Category: English

The new intern at the office was getting married, and he specially sent me an invitation. I opened it casually, but my entire body froze when my eyes scanned the bride’s name—Chloé Miller? Isn’t that my wife’s name? I reassured myself that there were plenty of people with the same name in the world, and I smiled, accepting the invitation. My colleagues beside me started to tease, saying how lucky Gage Price was to marry such a top-tier socialite. Someone added, “Although she’s a few years older than Gage, she’s incredibly well-preserved. She looks like a young woman.” As they spoke, someone projected the bride’s photo onto the big screen. A chorus of gasps and exclamations of envy instantly filled the room. I stiffly raised my head, and the face on the screen sent a chill through my entire body. It was clearly my wife’s face, an exact match! 1 On the day of their wedding, I arrived early. Gage Price, wearing a custom-made groom’s suit, shook my hand. “Thank you, Mr. Edwards, for taking the time out of your busy schedule to attend my wedding and witness my love.” A faint, cold smile played on my lips. To be precise, today I was here to witness their affair. At the hotel entrance, two floor-length wedding photos were displayed. In the pictures, Chloé Miller was in Gage’s arms, both smiling radiantly, full of happiness. Staring at the photos, my heart felt like it was being stretched and pulled by an invisible force. Gage’s smile was bright as he led me to the guest lounge. “Mr. Edwards,” he paused, a hint of tentative politeness in his smile. “On this special occasion, I’ll be less formal, if I may call you Adrian, sir?” He had just graduated from college this year, only twenty-two. His eyes sparkled, radiating the unique youthful energy of a college student. Seeing him smile so happily, my heart throbbed faintly. But I forced a smile and said, “You may.” I sat in the lounge. He offered me tea and fruit. His unbridled joy was exactly how I had been when I married Chloé. A hard, heavy stone felt lodged in my chest, making me feel suffocated and restless. That morning, before coming to the wedding, I had called Chloé. She said she was still away on a business trip. In the video call, she looked like a homesick child, her eyes filled with longing for me. She even showed me the watch she had bought for me. “I won’t be back for another three days. It feels like an eternity. Honey, I miss you so much.” Several times, I nearly broke down and exposed her hypocritical facade, but I held back. For fifteen years of marriage. In everyone’s eyes, Chloé was a good wife. A good mother, even a good daughter-in-law. Before this incident, I had once believed she was the best woman in the world. As happy as I once was, that’s how much pain I was in now. My colleague, Mark, arrived and complimented Gage. “You look absolutely dashing today!” Gage smiled, looking at me. “I’m happy because of the big day, but Adrian, sir, you’re still the handsome one.” At work, I was considered a handsome man. In college, I was the undisputed campus heartthrob. Even though I was a few years older than Gage, I still looked more attractive than him. But marriage was never won by looks alone. I felt no emotion, just a faint smile. Mark, ever the gossip, asked him, “Gage, I heard you’ve been with your wife for four years.” “How did you meet such a top-tier socialite like your wife?” Mark even playfully nudged his arm. “Are there any other eligible women like her? Introduce me; I’ll get a divorce right away.” Hearing the words “four years,” my heart shattered into ice. Four years. She had kept this from me for four years. And I hadn’t noticed a single sign of Chloé’s infidelity. I just pretended to be calm and listened to Gage speak. “She’s the best gift destiny could have compensated me with.” As he spoke, Gage pulled Mark to sit next to me. He said, “My freshman year, my parents both died in an accident.” “I almost couldn’t afford college. It so happened that my wife’s alma mater was my university.” “She donates five hundred thousand dollars to the university every year, and I was one of the students she sponsored.” “That winter was very cold. To thank her, I personally knitted her a sweater.” “That sweater, it started our love story.” I remembered Chloé did have a handmade sweater. She cherished it. But she had told me it was a gift from my deceased mother. Once, our son accidentally dropped the sweater on the floor. She lost her temper, giving him a harsh scolding. Turns out, that sweater was hand-knitted by Gage. What chilled me most was that she donated five hundred thousand dollars to the school every year, and I knew absolutely nothing about it. Two years ago, she claimed the company was facing a cash flow crisis. She mortgaged our house, her parents’ house, and my parents’ house. Only then did she help the company through its difficult period. Even now, the company’s business remains stagnant, neither losing nor gaining, in a half-dead state. Yet, such a shrewd woman would do something so absurd—cutting off her own arm to help a lover, just for a smile. Mark was incredibly envious and asked again: “I heard your wife might make a lot of money, and she gives it all to you.” “So why are you still working like a dog at our company?” I pricked up my ears, staring at Gage. The smile never left his face. “Even though she gave me all her money, it’s more than I could spend in dozens of lifetimes.” “But I want to do a job I enjoy. I don’t want to just be a man she supports.” “I have my own worth.” More than he could spend in dozens of lifetimes? My chest tightened even more! Just last month, our son couldn’t afford the fifty thousand dollar tuition for his private school. He transferred to a public school, and the huge sense of loss caused my ten-year-old son to develop anxiety and depression. I pretended to be calm and asked: “What industry is your wife in, to be making so much money?” “Her company mainly operates overseas. The domestic company doesn’t make much.” I was stunned. I had no idea Chloé had opened a company overseas. For the past four years, she claimed the company was struggling. And cut off money for the household. My after-tax annual salary of eighty thousand dollars was just enough to cover our family expenses. So I never pressured her. Even a few years ago when my mother-in-law passed away, spending almost two hundred thousand dollars on treatment over a year. I paid for all of it, a hundred thousand of which I had to borrow. To pay off that debt as soon as possible, I had to both maintain the facade that our family hadn’t fallen on hard times and scrimp and save. Chloé witnessed my many nights of worry and sleeplessness, saw my hair rapidly turning gray in my thirties. Yet, she never contributed a single dime. Mark continued to gossip, his voice a little lower. “I heard your wife was divorced, and you’re her second husband.” “Can she manage her relationship with her ex-husband’s side well?” A cold laugh formed in my heart, but I managed to control the churning emotions within me. Gage seemed to have nothing to hide, a smile still on his face. “Her ex-husband and son both passed away.” A gaping hole tore through my chest, and a choking sensation lodged in my throat. Incredulous, Chloé had actually told him that my son and I were dead. A hint of regret appeared on Gage’s face. “It was an accident. Such a shame, that poor guy didn’t get to enjoy life with her.” More colleagues from work arrived. Gage continued to smile, greeting them. He showed no sign of noticing my changing expression. They surrounded Gage, praising him. Everyone envied his good fortune, finding a wealthy, generous, and loving wife. As they were talking, Gage’s phone video rang. It was Chloé calling. Everyone cheered for Gage to answer. Gage didn’t answer, instead saying, “I want her to see me like this today, only when we exchange rings at the wedding.” Everyone cheered again. “Gage wants to surprise his wife at the wedding.” Gage smiled. “To be honest, my wife didn’t have a wedding for her first marriage.” “She never took wedding photos, nor did she ever see her beloved in a groom’s suit.” “So I want her to be happy and unforgettable today.” He was right. Fifteen years ago, when Chloé and I married. She was still a penniless Cinderella. Our wedding was completely bare-bones. Even the rings were fake, bought from a dollar store. I put all my money into supporting her entrepreneurial venture. Three months ago, our son suggested that she take wedding photos with me as a keepsake. She gave a natural smile. “We’re old married folk now.” Then added, “We’ll take a family photo sometime.” I felt a vague disappointment then, but I didn’t dwell on it. I always believed that as long as the family was safe, sound, and loving. Nothing else mattered. She had completely forgotten that on our wedding day, when we lived in a two hundred dollar basement apartment. She had tears in her eyes as she promised me: “Honey, when I have money, I’ll definitely take wedding photos with you, buy you a car, a house, and give you all the best things.” But when she had everything. What she gave me in return was a soul-crushing betrayal. Someone gasped, covering their mouth. “No way, she didn’t have a wedding with her deceased ex-husband?” “She said she had no feelings for her ex-husband, didn’t want to, but her parents forced her.” Gage said this calmly, as if he wasn’t talking about Chloé’s life. “She said, when her ex-husband died, she finally felt a sense of relief.” “Like the whole world brightened up.” My heart was tearing apart with pain. I never imagined Chloé would so cheapen and humiliate our relationship in front of her lover. She was the one who relentlessly pursued me until I agreed to marry her. On the surface, I remained unfazed. As Gage was speaking, he suddenly remembered something and smiled blissfully. “Oh, and my wife is pregnant, two months along.” Everyone gathered around him, congratulating him. Saying his child would be a genuine heir to a wealthy family. Gage didn’t shy away from the topic. “My wife has already given all her assets to me and our child.” “She’s also planning for us to move abroad as a family after the wedding, a honeymoon of sorts, to truly relax.” Again, there was a chorus of envy. My spine turned cold. His child is the heir? What about my child?! My ten-year-old son, at the age of eight, had risked his life to save Chloé from a fire. That time, Chloé was inspecting a warehouse. The warehouse caught fire due to an electrical problem. My son saw her trapped inside and rushed in without hesitation to save her. Since then, my healthy son had a broken leg and has been limping ever since. Chloé had cried for several nights, heartbroken. She promised me and our son, again and again. She would work hard to give me and our son the best life. To make our son a wealthy heir who would never run out of money. Now, those words were the biggest joke in the world. Mark was once again insanely envious, exclaiming again. “Gage, heaven has been so good to you.” “Your wife truly loves you so much! You two must be happy.” Gage patted Mark’s back, his tone full of certainty. “Don’t worry, she’d even risk her life for me. She’ll definitely love me forever.” I raised an eyebrow, deliberately asking, “What reckless thing did she do for you?” “Two years ago, I was with her, meeting at her company’s warehouse.” “Later, I lost a shoe. Actually, a pair of those shoes only cost fifty-nine dollars.” “Just because I really liked those shoes, she went back herself to look for it.” “But the warehouse unexpectedly caught fire, and she almost lost her life.” “Luckily, she was blessed with good fortune and found that cheap shoe for me.” My blood boiled, and I clenched my fists, my fingernails digging deep into my flesh. I never imagined that my son’s broken leg was because of him. Fifteen years of marriage, and I only just discovered that my wife, the person sleeping beside me, was a demon. The one who delivered the fatal blow was my most trusted wife! “Oh my god, how touching, this is just like a novel!” someone exclaimed. Everyone, like Gage, was moved, quietly wiping away the faint tears at the corners of their eyes. Someone else said: “Your wife is so good to you. Are your in-laws also that good to you?” I looked at him, and he nodded firmly. “Her mom and dad are both very good to me.” My spine tingled with coldness. Chloé’s mother had passed away four years ago. Her father suffered from Alzheimer’s and now resided permanently in a nursing home. Gage pulled out a fine piece of black jade from his chest. It was identical to the one I wore around my neck. He held it up for everyone to see. “This was a gift from my father-in-law. Although it doesn’t look like it’s worth much, he said it’s a family heirloom.” “It’s only passed down to sons-in-law. Starting with him, we’ll pass it down generation to generation.” I carefully touched the black jade around my neck, only to realize it was fake. As everyone once again expressed their envy. A staff member called out from a distance: “Where’s the groom? The wedding is about to begin.” Gage immediately smiled and responded: “Coming, coming.” Then he smiled at us and said, “See you later.” I silently thought to myself: See you later! Many people came to the wedding. I saw a couple with “Bride’s Father” and “Bride’s Mother” written on their chest badges. A bitter smile formed in my heart. Chloé, in order to give Gage a happy wedding. Actually hired people to impersonate her parents. The wedding entered the groom picking up the bride’s procession. On stage, Chloé’s lips curved into a blissful smile. I stood in the corner behind her, my heart churning with immense hatred. I watched her eagerly walk towards the door of happiness, take Gage’s hand, and walk back to the stage. At the wedding, they exchanged vows of eternal love. The officiant, following the script, asked Gage: “Groom, do you take this bride?” Gage, without hesitation, smiled and loudly replied, “I do!” I took the microphone, walked onto the stage, and spoke loudly with a sharp tone: “That depends on whether I agree!” My gaze, sharp as a blade, fixed on Chloé’s eyes. “Wife, wouldn’t you agree?”

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I harbored a secret crush on Ethan for ten years, never daring to confess, until I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. I tied him up and slept with him again and again. His eyes red with rage, he struggled: “Harper! Let me go if you dare.” I thought that once I let him go, he would furiously strangle me to death. Instead, he fiercely claimed every inch of my body, day and night without rest: “Harper, do I look weak to you? How dare you drug me?” 01 I had a crush on Ethan for ten years. From my teenage years into adulthood. He lived in the house right next door to mine. I watched him grow from a green youth into an increasingly mature man. I was completely mesmerized by the mature, masculine charm he exuded, but I never dared to say anything. I was afraid that if I spoke up, he would reject me, and then we would be over. That was until ten days ago when I fainted at work and was rushed to the hospital. The doctor looked at me with deep regret: “Terminal brain cancer. It’s too late. There’s no longer any medical value in treatment.” I couldn’t just die like this. I hadn’t traveled the world yet, and I hadn’t slept with Ethan… My mind was flooded with the dark romance novels I’d been reading recently—all about twisted, forced love. I was about to die anyway; was it so wrong to do something drastic? I called Ethan and invited him over for dinner. Ethan was the CEO of his own company and very busy. But he still agreed to come over later. When Ethan arrived, he looked travel-worn, wearing a long black coat. He brought a gust of cold air with him. Only then did I realize that he had been abroad when I called. He flew all day, came back, and walked straight into my trap. I felt a twinge of guilt. I tried to find an excuse to make him leave, but he walked straight to the dining table and sat down. Before I could say anything, he started helping himself to the food. I watched as he drank the Tom Yum soup—which I had heavily spiked. He even raised an eyebrow at me while drinking. “Haven’t seen you for a while. Your cooking has improved.” Of course, it had improved. Because that was takeout from the highest-rated Thai restaurant in the city. Why takeout? The reason was simple: I was afraid my cooking would be so bad he wouldn’t eat enough for the drug to take effect. By the time I went to the kitchen to grab a bowl and came back, his eyes were already starting to glaze over as he sat at the table. I bit my lip: “Are you tired? Do you want to rest?” He nodded: “A little dizzy.” “Then go rest for a bit.” We had known each other for years, so all defenses had long been dropped between us. He obediently followed me to the guest bedroom. 02 Ethan fell asleep. I struggled to take off his coat, then stared blankly at his torso faintly visible through his white dress shirt. I pursed my lips, feeling a bit panicked and my mouth going dry. But I still didn’t have the courage to completely undress him right then. I rummaged through my closet and found a pile of ties I had wanted to give him over the years but never had the nerve to. Today, they came in handy. I used the ties to bind his hands and feet directly to the bed frame. After laboriously finishing all that, I lost my strength and slumped onto the edge of the bed. Looking up, I saw his handsome, peacefully sleeping face. He was very calm right now. But I could imagine what kind of fury would erupt when he woke up. Just like the fury he showed that one time his mother suggested we should just get married. I stared at his face, not even bearing to blink. I kept thinking that in a few days, I would never be able to see him again, so I just wanted to look my fill all at once. I had been a kind, selfless person for over twenty years. In the end, I insisted on being selfish just this once. Even if he hated me, it didn’t matter. That way, when I died, he wouldn’t be sad at all. His phone in his coat pocket kept ringing; it was his assistant, Liam. Without much hesitation, and afraid of waking Ethan up, I answered it. “Ethan was too tired; he fell asleep after eating.” Liam tactfully hung up the phone. Gradually, my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. I simply crawled into bed, hugged Ethan’s waist tightly, and fell into a deep sleep. I was woken up in the middle of the night by Ethan’s roar. “Harper!” I shot up into a sitting position. The sudden movement made me dizzy; my vision went black, and I fell heavily back into Ethan’s chest. “Harper! What the hell are you doing?” What was I doing? I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him in confusion. “Guess.” Ethan’s face grew even darker. I kneeled on the bed, looking down at him: “Since you’re awake, let’s get down to business.” Ethan frowned deeply, both arms trying to break free from their restraints. I panicked a little, terrified that if he actually escaped, all my efforts would be in vain. I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my whole body onto him. “Don’t move! Listen to me!” Ethan ground his teeth in hatred. “Are you crazy?” I lifted my head slightly; my face was no more than four inches from his. “I’m not crazy.” “Then what are you doing?” “I’ve got you in bed. What do you think I want to do?” Ethan’s pupils contracted sharply, the disgust on his face impossible to hide. “Harper! I am Ethan!” “Do you have any decency left as a woman?!” I didn’t want to hear his accusations, so I grabbed something soft from the nightstand and shoved it into his mouth. Ignoring his eyes that looked ready to spit fire, I glared at him fiercely. “Shut up!” Ethan tried to break free, but found it useless. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. “I’m going to kiss you. Don’t interrupt me.” With that, I yanked the gag out of his mouth. Before he could speak, I closed my eyes and kissed him viciously. I clumsily pulled at his dress shirt; the buttons were ripped off one by one and scattered onto the floor. Like someone fleeing an apocalypse, I refused to stop, desperate to find an exit. I had a chest full of pent-up emotions, which I released bite by bite all over Ethan’s body, accompanied by his low grunts. I remembered something my friend Chloe once said: When a man is in bed, he only thinks with his lower half. Sure enough, amidst my somewhat aggressive actions, Ethan actually didn’t open his mouth to curse me. Just a continuous stream of grunts. Afterward, Ethan’s face was flushed, as if he had suffered a great humiliation. I couldn’t bear to look and put on my clothes, wanting to go to the bathroom to shower. Seeing me leaving, Ethan called out to me. “Harper!” I turned to look at him: “What?” His eyes were red with anger. “Let me go if you dare.” I was stunned for a second, then gave a nonchalant smile. “I’ll let you go, but not right now.” 03 After my shower, I originally wanted to go back to my own room. But I remembered Ethan’s eight-pack abs; they were so firm. So, I went back to the guest room. Ethan wasn’t asleep yet; he was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Like a frog waiting to be dissected in an experiment. Seeing me enter, he cursed through gritted teeth: “Let me go!” I shook my head: “No.” “Do you have no shame?!” “What exactly do you gain from doing this?” “Didn’t your mother teach you to have some self-respect?” He struck a nerve. On purpose. I pursed my lips and said nothing, just silently walked forward. I kicked off my slippers, got straight onto the bed, and straddled him. He frowned and was about to curse me again, but I reached out and covered his mouth. “Shut up and listen to me. “I’ve known you for eleven years and liked you for ten. I’ve thought about giving up, but I just can’t accept it. “I know you don’t like me. People say whoever loves more should take the initiative, so I’m taking the initiative. “I just want you, and struggling is useless!” With that, my eyes red, I lowered my head and kissed him. Ethan’s lips were thin and cool, like they tasted of mint. I was already exhausted, but I clearly felt a change somewhere on him. I lifted my head, looked at his face, and smiled. “Why pretend to be some pure, untouchable CEO? You’re just like any other guy!” The sounds Ethan made throughout the whole process made me blush, and… extremely satisfied. When I opened my eyes again, Ethan was already awake. But thankfully, his expression didn’t show that he had “suffered great humiliation.” Seeing me awake, his voice was raspy as he called my name. “Let me go.” “No.” He looked somewhat resigned and started trying a different approach. “Harper, what exactly is wrong with you? How long do you plan on keeping me tied up?” I counted on my fingers, then flashed a number at him. “7 days.” Ethan was completely speechless: “Why are you doing this?” “No reason,” I said calmly, throwing on my robe and getting out of bed. “I just insist on staying with you for a full seven days.” I thought Ethan would be angry, but he laughed. “This is illegal imprisonment. You know how many things I have to do every day, how many people will be looking for me. If I just disappear like this, do you think you can keep me here until the seventh day?” I stood by the bed, unable to move a single inch. It was true. He was a grown man. If he didn’t cooperate, how long could I actually keep him here? “Harper, untie me, and I promise I won’t leave.” I froze for two seconds, then stubbornly shook my head. “I don’t believe you.” “Harper, I have very important things to do. You can stay by my side, but you have to let me out.” Ethan thought I would definitely agree if he made a concession. But I refused without a second thought. I told him very stubbornly: “Until the police bring people to break down my door, you can only stay here.” Ethan knew it was a dead end. His dark eyes scanned me from head to toe several times. Finally, he unexpectedly compromised. “If you keep me tied up like this for seven days, my hands and feet will be ruined. Is that what you want?” “No.” “But I have no other choice. I can’t fight you off, and I can’t stop you, so I can only inconvenience you like this. Harper, I swear on my grandmother’s name, I won’t leave for seven days.” Grandma Vance. I knew how important she was to Ethan. I also knew she was genuinely good to me. When she passed away, Ethan and I hid in a corner and cried our hearts out together. That was the first time I ever saw Ethan cry. “You need me to cooperate, otherwise it’s highly likely your door will be forced open by this afternoon.” Ethan’s attitude was very sincere. I also knew he was telling the truth. The CEO of his company going missing—how could that not be a major incident? I wanted to keep him, but I didn’t want to leave a bad reputation behind after I died. I could guess with my toes how nasty and outrageous the media would make the story out to be. I compromised. I threw his clothes at him, then freed his hands and feet one by one. He gritted his teeth, flexing his stiff hands, and ruthlessly criticized: “I never realized before what a crazy woman you are.” I kept a straight face: “There’s a lot you never realized.” He stared at the messy pile of ties on the floor and turned to look at me in disbelief: “Where did you get all these ties?” “Whenever I saw one I thought would suit you, I bought it. I accumulated this many without even realizing it.” Well, at least I didn’t buy them for nothing; they finally found their use on him. “Why didn’t you just give them to me?” I sneered: “I don’t make a habit of chasing after someone who acts like I don’t exist.” Ethan’s face turned slightly cold. “So you just forced yourself on me?” I blushed from my face all the way down to my toes. When I was acting crazy, I didn’t care about the consequences. But now that I was calm and hearing him say it, I suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed. To get a man, I actually tied him up. But I quickly let it go, telling myself that doing something like this in my lifetime made it all worth it. 04 Ethan was a man of his word. After I untied him, he didn’t try to force his way out. He just asked for my laptop. “Are you going to email Liam for help?” Ethan looked at me like I was an idiot. “Is your brain not working right? If I wanted to leave, would I need to call someone for help?” My brain wasn’t just not working right; it was completely broken. I handed him the laptop. I had already quit my job anyway, so I didn’t need it. Ethan sat on the balcony handling his work, while I curled up on the living room sofa, quietly watching him. The sunlight poured in at what seemed like the perfect angle, giving me the illusion of a “peaceful, quiet life.” Except this “peacefulness” was something I had shamelessly kidnapped him for. The afternoon sun was glaring, and as I watched, I felt sleep creeping up on me. I tried hard to stay awake, but eventually lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, Ethan was nowhere to be seen. I jumped up, barefoot, and panicked, looking around wildly. Until I violently pushed open the bathroom door. My heart dropped back into my chest from my throat, but my sanity abandoned me the moment I saw him. I lunged at him. I had no experience, so I just bit and gnawed haphazardly, only wanting to leave marks. My heart felt like a lost deer, crashing wildly against my ribs. I clung to him like an octopus with all my might, terrified he would throw me off. In my daze, I heard Ethan’s helpless sigh, and then a strong arm scooped me up. “You’re an absolute lunatic, but I like it.” Like what? Before I could process it, he bit down on my neck, and then the tables were turned. I was starting to believe Chloe’s words more and more. In a man’s eyes, love and sex really are two completely different things. Afterward, the thick fog of lust faded, and Ethan leaned against the headboard, studying me. “Harper, I seriously suspect you’ve been possessed by some sort of demon.” Having known me for so many years, it wasn’t strange that Ethan had his doubts. After all, I was completely different from before. “Yeah,” I nodded seriously. “A sex demon.” Ethan narrowed his eyes: “Why doesn’t the sex demon go after someone else?” I tilted my head and thought about it: “Probably because you were the only easy prey around.” I grabbed my phone to order takeout, but Ethan stopped me. “What? You personally cook to lure me here, use me up, and now you’re brushing me off with takeout?” I couldn’t be bothered with him. Half an hour later, the takeout delivery knocked on my door. Ethan watched the yellow paper bag in my hand, his pupils contracting violently. When he saw me pull out a tiny box of pills from inside, he completely lost it. He rushed over and grabbed my chin. “Harper! What the hell are you doing? You’re taking this kind of stuff?” I struggled to speak: “You want me to give birth to an heir for you?” Fury covered Ethan’s face, even the tilt of his eyebrows expressing his rage. His fingers clamped down harder. “You dare to pull a stunt like this, but you’re afraid of having a baby?” “You’re hurting me!” I struggled to break free from his grip, but I knew he was genuinely angry. So I made up a reason that sounded plausible. “Of course I want to have your heir, but I just remembered I took a lot of antibiotics for a cold a couple of days ago.” I frowned at him: “What? Are you hoping I have a kid so you can use it to blackmail me?” Ethan looked away, his voice chilling. “In your dreams, you greedy woman.” “Ethan, you don’t usually act like this towards me! I forced you, sure, but if you hadn’t been willing, I wouldn’t have been able to force you anyway!” Ethan was angry, and I thought he would just turn and leave. But he just slammed the guest bedroom door shut with a loud bang. Heh, quite a man of his word. It made me feel a bit guilty. 05 In my school days, I saw Ethan as the ultimate nice guy. Gentle and polite, but also great at joking around. When his family moved into the house next door, my parents were going through a messy divorce. He watched as I was dumped in the big house, and then my parents never showed up again. I sat crying silently on my front porch, and he was the one who handed me tissues and milk candy. Later, he transferred to my school, same grade but different class. From the moment he arrived, he dominated the number one spot in the grade and never let it go. When I was first abandoned, I was depressed for a very long time. He was the one who brought me lunch from home during the day and came over to help me with homework at night. And later, he introduced his parents to me. Mrs. Vance and Mr. Vance were so good to me, often acting like my own parents. Especially Mrs. Vance; whenever we went shopping for clothes, she would always pick out things for me too, and have Ethan drop them off at my house. I felt incredibly embarrassed. But Mrs. Vance would always smile and pat my shoulder: “Don’t be silly, Harper. I’ve always wanted a daughter, and I just feel such a connection with you. When I see something that suits you, I just want to buy it for you.” When Ethan walked me home, he’d pat the top of my head and laugh: “My mom just likes you. Just accept whatever she gives you. We know you don’t lack money.” It was true. Regarding living expenses, those two so-called parents of mine never shortchanged me. It’s just that they both seemed to treat me as a projection of their failed marriage, so neither of them wanted to look at me ever again. The Vance family was like a warm ray of sunlight piercing through my darkest times. His parents loved me like their own child. I knew his family were genuinely good people. I also knew they felt sorry for me. But now, I had tied up their son. Did I feel guilty? I shook my head. Not at all. If he wasn’t willing, I couldn’t have done a thing. When I thought like that, I was crazy enough to be somewhat delusional. Ethan went into the guest room and didn’t come out all afternoon or evening. I looked at the table full of food, having no appetite. I knocked on Ethan’s door. “Dinner’s ready.” To my surprise, he opened the door and walked out after just a few seconds. He sat down at the table as if nothing had happened. But he remained silent, every pore radiating a “stay away from me” vibe. However, his mood didn’t affect me anymore. Besides buying the pill, I had also bought a bunch of condoms. Deadpan, I held out the different flavors for Ethan to choose from. Ethan lost it. “Are you really this desperate for me?” I nodded earnestly: “Probably.” He snatched a strawberry-flavored box from my hand and laid rigidly on the bed. Maybe it didn’t fit the mood perfectly. But a line of poetry suddenly popped into my head. “May you gather as much as you please.” I worked hard on Ethan, and his movements grew increasingly intense. In the end, he bit down on my ear. “Harper! I seriously want to kill you!” I didn’t have the energy to speak. But in my heart, I thought, You won’t have to lift a finger; you’ll get your wish soon enough. … After three days of this, Ethan’s energy remained normal. He could still handle company affairs remotely with great vigor during the day, and even found time to mock me. I, on the other hand, started feeling unwell all over. So, I kicked Ethan back to the guest room. Ethan leaned against the doorframe, looking at me with a half-smile: “Bored already?” I couldn’t be bothered with him, so I nodded: “Bored.” His response was another loud bang of the door.

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1 Five years. When the mental asylum doors finally swung open before me, I thought I’d be greeted by freedom and the warm embrace of my husband, Ryan Dudek. Instead, I was met by countless cameras, their lenses glinting with cold light, and a declaration that plunged me into an icy abyss: “Ms. Lynch, congratulations! This five-year mental asylum reality show has come to a perfect end!” A reality show? I hadn’t even processed the shock when Ryan, who should have been embracing me, appeared. His voice was calm, utterly devoid of emotion. “Noelle, all of this was Julianne’s idea. She orchestrated this program, and you, you were just the experimental subject I found for her, tasked with completing the recording.” So, this absurd charade had been streamed live, with three hundred million people participating in the voting. Julianne Lynch had, in turn, become a scorching hot, in-demand director. And me? For five years, I’d been subjected to electric shocks until my body convulsed, drooling uncontrollably, my mind often a fog. Ryan himself walked over and unlocked the handcuffs that had confined me for five years, saying with a detached tone, “The show’s over. Now, you can go home.” … The iron chains that had shackled me for five years were finally gone, but my legs felt like they were cast in lead. In my palm, I still clutched the last handwritten letter he’d given me, where he promised he could finally take me home. Now, that letter burned my skin. Ryan shook his head, a look of weary resignation on his face. “Those letters were also part of the experiment. It was Julianne’s idea, a way to test if you could survive on love alone.” “Looks like it worked pretty well.” Countless electric shocks. Now, there wasn’t a single patch of unmarred skin on my body. In the dark, windowless ward, I’d swallowed thousands of antidepressants. And the baby, a fully formed life, became deformed during a medical experiment, stillborn. The only thing that kept me going were his handwritten letters, which turned out to be mere props in an experiment. I touched my flat stomach, tears streaming down my face. “How could you be so heartless as to kill our baby?” When our eyes met, there was no guilt in Ryan’s gaze, only pride for Julianne. “That new drug was Julianne’s first commercial deal. No real pregnant women were willing to participate in the trial, so I could only sacrifice a child to help her achieve her dream.” “But you don’t need to be sad. At least you contributed to medical science.” Every nonchalant word he uttered felt like a stab to my heart. I looked around, then crawled towards him like a desperate dog, looking up. “What about Ethan? Why didn’t he come to pick me up?” The man recoiled sharply, as if he’d touched something filthy. But his words plunged me deeper into despair. “Ethan isn’t your child anymore.” Before I could react, the phone I’d just received suddenly rang. My son’s tender voice came through the line. “Are you really my mom? But I don’t want a crazy mom. I want a successful director mom like Aunt Julianne. Can’t you just… die?” Hearing my long-yearned-for son utter those words, I was so shocked my jaw hung open. My son impatiently hung up, and Ryan continued to explain. “Actually, this was also part of the experiment. For the show’s effect, I gave Ethan to Julianne as her son. We just wanted to air your reaction on the show.” Reporters rapidly clicked their shutters, frantically capturing the despair on my face. It was postpartum depression after giving birth to my son that led to me being taken to the asylum. That day, I cried my heart out. I worried my son would suffer without a mother. I worried Ryan would miss me. I had believed that today, we could finally be a family again, free from five years of nightmares. But on this very day, all my hopes dissolved into a colossal joke. “Ryan Dudek, let’s get a divorce.” Tears blurred my vision, and I could only hear my own hoarse voice. Ryan, who had been directing the reporters, finally looked up at me, frowning. Just as he was about to speak, his phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, he forced a smile as he answered. “Of course, the celebratory dinner is ready. I’ll be right back.” “I’ll transfer the money to her. You’re always the kindest.” Hanging up, he pulled a check from his pocket. “Take it. This is Julianne’s payment for your performance.” Seeing the amount, I laughed. Ten thousand dollars. The price for my five years in hell. I furiously tore the check to shreds and hurled the pieces at him. “I said, I want a divorce!” Ryan’s face instantly darkened. “If you divorce now, what about Julianne’s show? People will talk. Don’t be dramatic.” Instantly, my rage was doused with cold water. I gave a bitter laugh. Even the request for a divorce had to take a backseat to Julianne. Ryan slammed the door shut and left. I threw a cushion after him, like a truly deranged woman. Walking out of the asylum that had confined me for five years, I felt no joy of regained freedom. Seeing my hospital gown, taxis and passersby steered clear of me. In the city center, a giant screen played a promotional trailer for Julianne Lynch’ show. The woman in the sleek business suit was everywhere, alongside my own disheveled photos as a “featured guest.” I walked barefoot on the street, opening her social media feed. In these five years, she had become my son’s mother, my husband’s wife. They had visited Disneyland, the Eiffel Tower, ridden hot air balloons, and dived into the deep sea. They had explored every corner of the country and abroad. Ryan used to say he hated traveling. Every time I suggested it, he would pour cold water on my enthusiasm: “You’re not a child anymore. Where would I find the time to go gallivanting with you? Can’t you try to understand?” But he had not only gone with Julianne alone, he’d also taken tens of thousands of photos. Funny ones, playful ones, intimate ones, even some blurry ones were kept. Yet he hadn’t been willing to take even one wedding photo with me. Most glaringly, there was his support for Julianne’s career. He poured millions of dollars into paving her way, placing all resources into her hands. But he knew perfectly well that if I hadn’t been sent to the asylum, I would have become a renowned director by now. I self-destructively scrolled through countless times, my tears almost completely dried up. When I looked up again, I had walked home from memory. I tried the door lock code several times, but it always showed “incorrect input.” A bodyguard brutally kicked me aside. “Mr. Dudek said you’re not allowed in. The mistress of this house is Ms. Lynch. You’ll have to find somewhere else to stay!” He looked back, glaring at me with contempt. “Psycho.” I collapsed weakly on the ground, and through the glass, I saw the three of them—a happy family—sitting around the dinner table. This warm scene was exactly what I used to dream of. But now, the mistress of the house wasn’t me. Penniless, I huddled on the cold roadside for a night’s sleep. The next day, I returned to my company, only to be thrown out by my boss. “You dare show your face here again? What project would I trust a crazy person with? Mr. Dudek just gave the orders. If you know what’s good for you, get lost.” Thinking of my mother, still hospitalized, I felt close to losing my mind. “How dare he…” Before I could finish, Ryan’s call suddenly came through. “Noelle Lynch, you know Julianne spent five years on this reality show. Why would you ruin her work?!” I froze. “What are you talking about?” Ryan’s enraged voice was deafening. “Look at the big screen in the city center. These photos and rumors are all your doing, aren’t they? Are you not going to stop until you’ve completely destroyed her?!” I sharply looked up. On the large screen, a continuous loop of Julianne’s revealing photos played, alongside intimate pictures of her and Ryan. The furious voice on the phone grew more intense. “Go apologize to Julianne immediately. The breach of contract fees for the reality show, and your mother’s medical expenses—you can’t afford any of it!” As soon as the call ended, Julianne Lynch published a list of breach of contract fees and reputation damage compensation on her official website. She accused me of maliciously spreading her private photos and slandering her for breaking up my family. When the wall falls, everyone pushes it. The company that had just fired me also sent a legal letter, claiming I had damaged the company’s image and demanding compensation. Someone even leaked photos of me looking like a wraith in the asylum, solidifying the claims about my mental state. “Why is this crazy person out? Go die already!” “How can you trust what a psycho says? She’s just deliberately slandering Julianne Lynch!” … Faced with massive compensation demands and defamation, I couldn’t just sit back. I retaliated by posting an “apology video” online. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have allowed Julianne Lynch to take away my husband and child.” “I’m sorry, after being released from the asylum, I should have called the police immediately, instead of letting them turn on me.” The post went viral. Netizens began to question Ryan Dudek and Julianne Lynch’ relationship. Ryan called me repeatedly, but I hung up each time. Just when I thought everything was fine, my son cried in an interview: “Daddy and Aunt Julianne are just friends. My mom has always been crazy. She even said she wanted Aunt Julianne to die, boo-hoo…” Public opinion swung back again, and my phone was practically exploding. Legal letters flooded my phone. Seeing my own son accuse me, coupled with the astronomical compensation demands, my heart sank to rock bottom. Ryan called, his words laced with threats. “Julianne is being cyberbullied to the point of wanting to commit suicide. Do you have to drive her to her death before you’ll stop?” “Get over here and clarify, apologize!” I couldn’t believe it, shouting into the phone: “I haven’t done anything wrong, no way!” To my surprise, Ryan sent me my mother’s medical bill. Thousands of them. “Then you can try me!” Homeless, I wandered everywhere looking for a place to stay. But without exception, landlords slammed their doors in my face. “Who knows what a psycho like you might do? No landlord wants to take you in.” I tried to explain, “It’s all a misunderstanding…” “I saw all the videos online. Can a child lie? Still so stubborn.” The resounding slam of the door echoed heavily in my heart. I tried to borrow money everywhere, but was ruthlessly refused. “Sorry, sweetie, can’t do it.” “To be honest, Ryan told us not to lend you money. If it’s really that bad… maybe just apologize.” The hospital’s messages demanding payment for medical fees grew more urgent by the hour. An unprecedented wave of fear and exhaustion washed over me. I couldn’t hold on any longer. When he saw me, Ryan smiled knowingly. “I knew you’d come around. After this, I’ll take care of all your expenses.” I gave a weak, bitter laugh. Just as I was about to bow to Julianne, Ryan’s cold voice cut me off. “It’s gone too far. A simple apology won’t do anymore.” He pointed to the shirtless men around us and the dozens of cameras. “You cooperate with Julianne and film an R-rated movie. Then this matter will be over.” I looked up in shock, only to hear him continue nonchalantly: “There’s no high or low art. Hurry up and take off your clothes.” My eyes blazed red. “You want me to take off my clothes in front of cameras?” The man who once wouldn’t even let me wear a dress now felt like a complete stranger. Ryan didn’t answer my question, instead impatiently motioning for them to start the recording equipment. I struggled wildly, almost to the point of exhaustion: “It really wasn’t me! Let me go!” But Ryan refused to listen to another word, ordering his bodyguards to drag me onto the set. Julianne, as the director, followed them in. The moment the door closed, her face twisted into a snarl. “How does it feel to be betrayed by both your husband and son?” “Remember, I worked hard to get them, father and son. There’s no way I’m letting you take them back so easily!” Before I could react, she called a bank manager right in front of me: “Freeze the card used for medical expenses immediately!” What followed was a death certificate from the hospital. My heart plummeted completely. “Give me back my mother!” In that moment, I broke free from the bodyguards and lunged, my hands clamped tightly around her throat. “Noelle Lynch, you’re crazy!” Ryan burst in just then, seeing the scene, and shoved me away without holding back. Julianne cried, her face stained with tears: “Ryan, darling, if you hadn’t come in time, Noelle really would have choked me to death. She said I wasn’t fit to be Ethan’s mom…” Ryan’s sharp gaze fell on me, his face terrifyingly grim. “Acting like this in front of so many cameras, do you even care about being Mrs. Dudek anymore?!” I let out a sudden, bitter laugh. “She killed my mom! What else do I have to care about?!” Ryan froze, gritting his teeth. “Using your mother as a shield? You really are something!” “Since you don’t care about anything, then finish filming this movie, and I’ll make you famous!” He scoffed, taking Julianne with him as he left. The next second, the shirtless men closed in on me, frantically tearing off my clothes in front of the cameras. By now, I had no strength left to struggle. My vision swam with black spots, every part of me ached. I was thrown onto the ground like a dog with no dignity, blood gushing from beneath me. That night, Ryan spent a fortune buying trending topics, making the entire ordeal public. Julianne Lynch, as the rising director, received an award at the ceremony for her edited work. Below the stage, my son sat in his chair, eagerly awaiting. “Daddy, didn’t you say Mommy would be here?” Ryan impatiently glanced at his watch, about to make a call. Just then, his assistant rushed in, frantically waving his phone. “Mr. Dudek, bad news! Mrs. Dudek just livestreamed herself taking sleeping pills to commit suicide!”

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On the day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, his childhood friend announced her pregnancy on Facebook. Ethan rushed home and signed the divorce papers, but he threw my diagnosis report on the floor with disdain. “Sophia, don’t you think this pathetic attempt to win me back is a bit unnecessary?” 01 Ethan saw the divorce papers I had prepared, and at the same time, he saw my diagnosis report. “Sophia, stop using these pathetic tricks.” Ethan casually tossed the paper on the floor. “I’ve been using you all along. My love for you was all fake.” “I know,” I replied softly, my stomach cramping in pain. I had known since the day he testified against my father in court, since his childhood friend, Chloe, told me it was my father who had ruined their families. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Just pretend you didn’t see it.” I carefully put my diagnosis report away and handed him a pen. “Asking for a few million in the divorce settlement shouldn’t be too much for Mr. Vance, right?” I couldn’t defend my father’s actions. But Ethan had lied to me for ten years; that had to be worth something. When I went to visit my dad in prison, he looked incredibly haggard. He said, “Sophie, don’t blame Ethan. It was all my greed back then. You two live a good life together, and just remember to visit me often.” Fighting back a sob, I forced my tears down. I said, “Okay.” I had promised my dad I would live a good life. I was going to get treatment, survive, and strive to outlive him. Ethan’s cold sneer pulled me back from my memories. “A few million? Is that enough to pay off his debts?” Ethan flipped open the agreement and read it carefully. “Should I have my lawyer revise this?” Every word hit my heart like a block of ice. “My father wronged you, and he wronged many people. I know that. But you don’t have to pay for it.” My hand holding the paper curled up, wrinkling the edge, my sweaty palm slowly dampening it. “This money buys my ten years. It’s enough.” “Fine.” Ethan nodded, his jaw clenched, his eyes terrifyingly cold. He had disguised himself perfectly for ten years. In front of me, he let me throw tantrums and vent my emotions on him. He had always been careful to protect my feelings, his expression as gentle as day one for ten years straight. This was the first time I had ever seen him angry. The veins on the back of his hand bulged, and the pen looked like it was going to snap in half. Ethan signed quickly. His handwriting was a bit messy due to his haste, and every stroke was so forceful it seemed to tear through the paper. “My dad bought this house for us as a wedding gift. I plan to sell it to pay off some of his debts. I’ve already packed your things; they’re in those big boxes. The things you gave me are in there too.” As I spoke, I subconsciously looked down and noticed a small patch of skin on my ring finger that was a different shade—where my wedding ring used to be. When Ethan proposed, he told me that if I put it on, I would be tied to him for a lifetime. I had cried and replied that a lifetime was too short; I wanted the next life too. But there were no two lifetimes, not even one. We only had ten years. To me, those ten years felt fleeting, but for Ethan, every day must have felt like a year. “You…” I interrupted him: “You packed so fast. Why did you always pretend to be so scatterbrained before?” A sentence can have completely different meanings depending on the tone, and Ethan’s was clearly sarcastic. I used to be very scatterbrained, and Ethan always kept the house perfectly organized. My lips curled up slightly: “It’s not fast. It’s been two months since my dad was sent to prison, Mr. Vance.” He hadn’t been home for two months, but I could see his updates on Chloe’s Facebook. I knew Chloe posted them deliberately for me to see. As for why we were Facebook friends… it was because she was Ethan’s secretary. Three years after Ethan started his company, she barged into our lives. She pretended to be my good friend, sending me dozens of messages every day, sharing details of Ethan’s life at work, making me completely drop my guard around her. Little did I know, it was all exactly what she wanted me to see. Ethan’s pupils contracted, and he pursed his lips in silence. “When it comes to pretending, Mr. Vance is clearly the master.” I forced the corners of my mouth up, refusing to let my tears fall. Ethan’s tall figure loomed over me, and the smell of nicotine instantly flooded my nose. “Pregnant women shouldn’t be exposed to secondhand smoke. Think about Chloe and smoke less.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away. Chloe’s latest Facebook post was a picture of a positive pregnancy test. At that time, I was holding the freshly printed divorce agreement. The paper was warm, but my hands and feet were ice cold. I guess I should have ‘liked’ it. Ethan hadn’t expected my push and stumbled back two steps before catching his balance. A flash of shock crossed his eyes, but he quickly returned to his cold demeanor. “Didn’t you say you were selling the house? I’ll offer 10% above market value. Sell it to me, and you leave.” As soon as he finished, I was the one in shock. I didn’t understand why Ethan was being so spiteful. Maybe he just had too much money and nowhere to spend it. I had no reason to turn down money, so I nodded. “But before the contract is finalized, I’d like you to move out first.” “I’ll call my lawyer right now to draft the purchase agreement. I’ll wire you the money together, and you move out.” Ethan was inexplicably acting like a petulant child, his jaw clenched tight, emphasizing the words “you move out.” His anger was his business, but this arrangement suited me perfectly. I nodded again: “Arrange it however you like. I have an appointment this afternoon.” With that, I went into the bedroom to pack my own things. There wasn’t much left. After removing what I gave Ethan and what he gave me, and considering I was in a rush to leave, I had already purged my belongings once. The moment I closed my suitcase, the purchase agreement was sent over. The moment I signed, I caught sight of my relieved smile in the mirror. I looked up and met Ethan’s eyes, startled by his dark, brooding face. On a whim, I said to him, “Pleasure doing business with you.” As I was leaving, a large box flew past me and landed in the trash can in the hallway. The loud crash startled me. Before I could recover, another box flew into the trash. I didn’t need to look back to know it was Ethan. He was throwing away the trash. One box was the things he gave me; the other, the things I gave him. When I regained my composure, I didn’t look back and stepped into the elevator. Strangely, until the elevator doors closed, I didn’t hear the sound of his door shutting behind me. 02 Ethan’s money arrived very quickly. It seemed he was even more eager to end this relationship than I was. But surprisingly, we ran into each other that very afternoon, in the hospital’s obstetrics and gynecology department. The child of one of the victims from years ago had just been born. Due to a breech presentation, they faced exorbitant medical bills. I wanted to help them. Of course, I also hoped they might put in a good word for my dad. The woman’s husband said she refused to see me. He also said that since she had just given birth, her emotions were unstable, and he asked me never to appear before them again. Dejected, I left the maternity ward, only to bump straight into a couple: Ethan and Chloe. Their shock at seeing me was equal to mine. I had no desire to humiliate myself, so I pretended not to see them and quickened my pace to walk past. As we brushed past each other, my wrist was suddenly grabbed. A large, slightly damp palm clamped down on me. My forward momentum was halted, and my heart gave a sharp jolt. Terrified, I looked up into Ethan’s bloodshot eyes. The smell of nicotine on him was even stronger than this morning, making me dizzy. Just how heavy of a smoker was he? I couldn’t stand the smell of smoke. When I was little, my dad would only smoke in the bathroom when the craving hit him. But in the ten years I was with Ethan, not once did I taste even a hint of nicotine bitterness, not even when we kissed. He truly had incredible endurance. He must have suffered a lot over these ten years. The pain in my wrist quickly made me discard my inner self-mockery. Ethan’s voice dropped near my ear: “Why are you here?” I looked up into his eyes, which seemed to be desperately suppressing some intense emotion. But right now, besides awkwardness, I only felt confused. “Our marriage is over. I don’t need to report my schedule to you.” I didn’t want to show my vulnerability to Ethan and Chloe. My grip on my handbag tightened, my nails digging into my palms. “Are you pregnant?” Ethan took a step closer, suddenly closing the distance between us. Hot breath laced with nicotine washed over me. Chloe, standing nearby, widened her eyes and bit her lip resentfully. I let out a silent laugh and looked down, prying Ethan’s fingers off one by one. “Mr. Vance is overthinking things. Your protection was always very thorough.” A few years ago, I did want a child. But every time I brought it up with Ethan, he would always say his company was just starting out, and if we had a baby too early, he was afraid he wouldn’t have time to spend with them. I thought about how my dad frequently missed my school events because of work, and felt Ethan made a valid point. After a few times, I let it go. So, I hadn’t brought it up in years, only hoping his company would stabilize soon. If he had a child with me, he would be tied to that child for the rest of his life. And that child would be a permanent barrier between him and Chloe. Those excuses were just meant to stall me. He had been with Chloe for two months, and she was already pregnant. It clearly showed it wasn’t about fearing a lack of a father’s presence, but about not wanting a child with me. As soon as I finished speaking, a crack appeared in Ethan’s expression. “Sophia, don’t lie to me,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have no reason to lie to you.” The strong smell of nicotine made me frown slightly, and I took two steps back to widen the gap between us. Chloe watched Ethan, her face gradually darkening. “Then why are you at the obstetrics department?” he asked again, pointing at the large sign above the department door. Only then did I notice he was still wearing the watch I had given him. It was my birthday gift to him the year we got married. But I had clearly packed this watch into the box, the very box Ethan had thrown into the trash that morning. So I leaned toward another possibility: I must have seen wrong. “One of the victims is here. I came to visit. Is Mr. Vance satisfied with that answer?” I didn’t understand why Ethan kept pressing me, insisting I tear open my scars for him to see. But I knew that if I didn’t explain clearly today, I might not be able to leave. Neither Ethan nor Chloe would allow for the possibility of my pregnancy. I forced back the welling tears and made myself flash a strained smile. This time, they didn’t stop me from leaving. 03 Three days later, after visiting some of the families harmed by my father, I returned to the hospital for a follow-up. “Your condition is in the intermediate stage right now. As long as you receive active treatment, the chances of a cure are very high.” The doctor was a man around my age named Liam. For some reason, his name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I had heard it. My stomach started cramping again. As I stood up, my feet felt like they were stepping on cotton—powerless. I felt a bit dizzy, and by the time I came to, he was holding my arm, steadying me. “You look terrible,” Liam said. “I recommend you get admitted as soon as possible.” “Give me a little more time. I still have some things to do.” I wanted to finish visiting all the victims’ families, hoping to make amends for my dad, and I wanted to wait until his sentencing was announced before I was admitted. “Sophia, don’t be stubborn. While there is life, there is hope.” This was the first time Liam had used my first name directly, and I was slightly taken aback. I met his serious gaze, then quickly lowered my head and looked away. “Give me a few more days. I want to wait for my dad’s sentence.” Those few short words drained all the strength from my body. After a long pause, Liam replied, “Okay.” “I’m off the clock too. Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride.” Before I could speak, Liam offered. “It’s fine…” I waved my hand weakly. “I can go back myself…” “With your current condition, how can you go home alone?” Liam sighed. “Ms. Miller, I don’t want you joking around with your life.” He spoke very seriously, like a teacher scolding a bad student. Helpless, I could only nod. Since coming to the hospital for check-ups, I had seen Liam a few times. We didn’t have much to talk about, and the ride was silent. Until… He parked his car in the underground garage of my rented apartment. The moment I stepped out, headlights from the opposite car flashed directly at me, blinding me for a few seconds. When my vision cleared, I saw it was Ethan’s car. He was suddenly right in front of us. With a loud thud, Liam was knocked to the ground, a glaring smear of blood on the corner of his mouth. My mind was in chaos. I had no idea why Ethan suddenly appeared here, nor why he hit Liam. I quickly shoved Ethan away and helped Liam up. “What are you doing?” Ethan’s eyes looked murderous, a dark, hostile aura filling his pupils. “What are you doing?” he pointed at Liam. This time, I saw the watch on his wrist clearly. The strap was engraved with his initials, ‘EV’. It was definitely the one I gave him. “Bringing another man home the very day of our divorce. Sophia, if you commit adultery, I think our divorce agreement should be void.” Ethan’s words carried a gritted-teeth intensity. Liam warily tried to shield me behind him. Seeing this, Ethan raised an eyebrow and reached out to grab me first. With a cold sneer, I raised my hand and slapped him. The crisp sound echoed through the underground garage, and Ethan’s cheek quickly swelled. He slowly turned his head back, clearly caught off guard by my slap. “Ethan, have you lost your mind?!” My palm stung fiercely. The recoil kept my hand hovering in the air, trembling slightly. “That child in Chloe’s belly is yours, isn’t it? After all these years at the company, you know perfectly well what you two did behind my back! If we’re really going to calculate who cheated first, you’re the one who should be leaving with nothing!” My face felt like it was burning. I realized I was screaming, tears uncontrollably streaming down my face. I looked pathetic. And it was all in front of Liam, an outsider. To my surprise, Ethan actually laughed after hearing this. “What if I told you that Chloe and I have never been intimate, and when she went to the hospital for a check-up today, she told me the positive pregnancy test in the photo wasn’t hers?” Ethan’s gaze shifted to Liam, and he leaned in closer. “What about you?” Ethan’s words were like a bombshell, completely overturning all my previous certainties and leaving me at a loss. I didn’t understand why he was acting like this. One moment he agreed to the divorce, throwing away everything that held our memories, and the next, he appeared before me in a rage, questioning my relationship with Liam. “Are you alright, Mr. Vance?” Liam spoke before I could. He wiped the blood from his mouth with a tissue. “I think you’ve misunderstood. Ms. Miller and I are strictly doctor and patient. Given her current health, I didn’t feel comfortable letting her drive home alone, so I offered to give her a ride. “I also hope Mr. Vance can manage his emotions and think before acting. Since you’re already divorced, there’s no need to harass her. If you’re trying to reconcile, don’t use such an aggressive approach.” Liam finished and exchanged a glance with me. “Ms. Miller, remember to get admitted on time and take care of yourself. Goodbye.” I nodded at him, full of guilt. “About today… I’m really sorry.” He gave a small smile. “Don’t blame yourself.” Ethan seemed lost in Liam’s words, unable to snap out of it for a long time. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him anymore and headed straight for the elevator entrance. Hurried footsteps sounded behind me: “Sophia, that report… is it real?” Ethan caught up with me and pulled the door shut just as I had opened it. I looked up, meeting his somewhat vacant eyes. “Does it have anything to do with you? Wasn’t your goal to ‘catch me in the act’ so I’d leave with nothing?” Just like that morning, Ethan still refused to believe the report. But before it was disdain; now, it was denial. “Sophia, it’s not like that…” He scratched the back of his head in frustration, then suddenly grabbed both my hands as if he remembered something. “The reason I came is because Andrew told me just now that he’s selling all his shares. He also told me that the person who initially invested was actually you.” He looked at me, his eyes full of remorse and helplessness. “Why?” he asked. “Because I loved you.” When you like someone, it’s just like that. You only want them to be happy, you don’t want to see them defeated by difficulties, you don’t want to see them sad or dejected. So back then, I took out all my savings and asked Andrew to put on an act for me. I knew Ethan’s pride, so I never planned to tell him the truth. Even when I needed to sell the shares to pay off my dad’s debts, I didn’t let Andrew reveal the truth. I didn’t expect Ethan to find out anyway. “I said loved, Mr. Vance. Don’t misunderstand.” I tried to pull my hands away, but his grip only tightened. “And now?” he asked, the anger surrounding him instantly turning into an obsession. “Now, I don’t love you anymore.” Since he never loved me, why should I keep loving him? Ethan’s eyes flickered, as if stung by something, a faint shimmer in the corners of his eyes. “Why…” “You clearly loved me so much. Why divorce me just like that?” He grabbed my hands and pulled me into his arms, the strong smell of nicotine enveloping me. 04 “Ethan, don’t you find yourself ridiculous?” Unable to bear it any longer, I kneed him hard. He groaned and bent over, but his hands still held on tight. “Sophia, can we start over?” He looked up, tear streaks faintly reflecting the light. “You had plenty of chances to say that. From the time my dad was arrested until you testified against him, for two whole months, you were all lovey-dovey with Chloe, yet you wouldn’t even give me an explanation. Do you think we can start over?” “I only think of Chloe as a sister,” he said, sounding weak and pale. “But she never saw you as a brother. Every single one of her Facebook posts is proof of that,” I retorted. “I didn’t know about those posts.” “I don’t care. Ethan, what’s done is done. Let’s just end it here and leave each other with a shred of dignity.” “Sophia, for the past two months, I’ve been thinking… thinking about how to win you back… Signing the divorce papers was me acting out of spite. I never thought you could be so heartless…” Before he could finish, a phone rang, and my hands were finally released. Ethan pulled out his phone. The screen flashed “Chloe.” One second he was giving a deeply emotional explanation, the next he didn’t hesitate to answer Chloe’s call. I really couldn’t tell which of Ethan’s words were true and which were lies. “Chloe, I’m dealing with something urgent right now…” “What?” “I’m coming right now. Don’t do anything stupid!” Watching Ethan’s brow furrow into a deep scowl as he swiftly stood up. So even deep affection has two faces. I sneered inwardly. Free from Ethan, I couldn’t be bothered to engage with him anymore. I quickly scanned my face to open the door and got into the elevator. It wasn’t until the “ding” sounded that my heart finally settled. But my phone vibrated restlessly. I picked it up to see a text from Ethan: “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning. Wait for me.” I let out a silent, cold laugh and blocked his number. That very night, I admitted myself into the hospital. Partly to hide from Ethan, and partly because Liam had discussed it with me and strongly advised early admission. If I needed to leave, he would approve it based on my condition. But the truly ridiculous part was that the person waiting for me the next day wasn’t Ethan, but Chloe. I agreed to see Chloe because she said Ethan sent her to handle the transfer of the house’s ownership with me. But the first thing she said to me was: “Sorry, I was feeling down last night, so Ethan came to keep me company.” She was dressed to the nines, flawless from head to toe, her eyes brimming with smugness. But the dark circles under her eyes, barely concealed by foundation, couldn’t lie. Perhaps those dark circles represent other unspeakable secrets? I mocked myself inwardly for overthinking. “It’s fine. I should be thanking you for getting me out of a tight spot.” My calm response made her smile falter. She dispensed with the pleasantries and got straight to the point: “Sophia, even if my pregnancy was a lie, the person Ethan cares about most will always be me. Don’t think you can win his heart back by secretly getting pregnant!” With a smack, she threw a card at me. “There’s five million in here. Get rid of the child in your belly. If your dad manages to make it out alive, this money will be enough for him to live out his old age.” Unaware of how ridiculous she sounded, she looked at me with haughty arrogance. So, Ethan was telling the truth. Chloe wasn’t pregnant. But from her words, it was clear Ethan tolerated her behavior. “As for the PIN—” Chloe’s voice snapped me back to reality, a malicious smile forming on her lips. “It’s 180907.” “That’s the day Ethan flew tens of thousands of miles just to save me.” September 7, 2018, was the day Ethan changed his flight to end our honeymoon early. His excuse back then was a sudden emergency at the company that required his immediate attention. Maybe Ethan was such a good actor back then that I never felt insecure. Or maybe I trusted Chloe too much and never overthought it. I remember at my wedding, Chloe was my bridesmaid, and I personally handed my bouquet to her. “I hope you find your own happiness soon.” I had said it sincerely. At the time, Chloe’s eyes filled with tears, and as she took the bouquet, she broke down crying. I thought she was crying tears of joy for me, but looking back, seeing the man she loved forced to marry someone else must have been devastatingly sad. During the honeymoon, Chloe had been contacting Ethan intermittently. Ethan would always step away to take the calls. Because I trusted him completely, I didn’t bother paying attention. The last time, Chloe’s voice sounded incredibly panicked. One second later, my lips would have met his. But the moment the phone rang, he pulled away. The name “Chloe” flashed on the screen. Ethan almost subconsciously stepped back and answered it. Because the volume was a bit loud, I could faintly hear Chloe sobbing. Lost in the honeymoon bliss, I didn’t suspect anything. My first thought was that there was a massive crisis at the company that Chloe couldn’t handle. After all, she had been contacting him quite frequently during that time. Sure enough, half an hour later, Ethan looked at me guiltily: “I’m sorry, there’s an emergency at the company. I changed my ticket. I’m leaving tonight.” “I’ll go back with you.” “I promised to spend a whole month with you. Won’t it be too rushed if you come back with me?” Ethan’s face showed no signs of lying, his eyes full of apology as he reached out to stroke my hair. I naturally grabbed his hand. “A honeymoon is for two people. What’s the point of me being here alone? Besides, if we go back separately, my dad will definitely think we had a fight. There’s no need to worry him.” Ethan offered a small smile and nodded. “Okay.” Even though I also rebooked my flight, after landing, Ethan didn’t go home with me. He very “thoughtfully” called two cars. One to take me home, and the other, supposedly, to take him to the office. Only now did I realize that his actual destination that day was Chloe’s apartment. The memory playback in my mind ended. “I’m not pregnant, and I don’t want your money…” “Sophia!” Chloe interrupted me, leaning on the table as she stood up. “Are you still lying? If you’re not pregnant, why would Ethan pull strings to get his hands on your medical report?” Chloe’s words hit me like a physical blow, sending a shock through my body. “What…” “Sophia, do you know what I hate the most? It’s how you pretend not to know anything, when in reality, you’re just as calculating as I am, aren’t you?” Chloe’s face darkened. “Hello, Mr. Vance. Is it true that you donated 3.6 million dollars to the Cancer Foundation?” “Yes, because my wife was recently diagnosed with cancer as well. I hope to use this opportunity to build some good karma for her, and I hope all patients can be like her—actively seek treatment and never give up.” … A familiar voice suddenly came from the restaurant’s TV. Both Chloe and I turned to look. It was Ethan. He was smiling at the camera, and whether intentionally or not, he was twisting the wedding ring on his finger—the ring he should have taken off a long time ago.

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Last year, the developer’s son insisted on taking his yacht out during storm season. Half an hour later, he was gone. The yacht was caught right in the eye of the storm. Professional rescue teams couldn’t even get close. Only I knew how to navigate that old fishing boat. I didn’t hesitate. I steered the boat straight into the tempest and pulled him back to shore. But the moment he stepped off, he pointed a finger and cursed me, claiming I, a woman, had steered the boat so erratically that his limited-edition jacket got torn. He demanded I pay him thirty thousand. I confronted the developer, but he merely sized me up, cold and dismissive, telling me I had to take responsibility for my mistakes. This year, his son got into trouble again, in the very same stretch of sea. This time, the developer was literally begging, practically knocking his head on the ground, just for me to save his son’s life. 1 On South Bay Pier, I was patching the last tear in my fishing net. A commotion erupted behind me. Old Man Gunther, the village elder, rushed over, his face etched with worry: “Quick, everyone! Mr. Davies’ yacht is trapped in the storm!” The pier was packed with people. Mr. Davies stood at the front, his face a thundercloud. “What good are these rescue teams? Why aren’t they out there saving my son?” Old Man Gunther hastily waved his hands. “The rescue team says the water in that reef area is too shallow, big ships can’t get in!” A hush fell over the crowd. Then, Old Man Gunther suddenly looked at me, as if he’d found salvation. “Penny, you’re the only one in our village who can handle those old fishing boats. You’re the only one who can save Mr. Davies’ son.” Dark clouds churned ominously across the sky. But a life was on the line. “Alright, I’m going.” I jumped onto the old fishing boat my dad left me and fired up the engine. The storm was fiercer than I’d imagined. Several rogue waves crashed over me, drenching me to the bone, and leaving my arms with several stinging cuts. Half an hour later, I finally spotted the stranded yacht. Lucas Davies lay slumped on the deck, trembling uncontrollably. “Jump over!” I yelled at him. But he hesitated, and another wave slapped against the yacht, sending him cowering back onto the deck. “Jump, now! The waves are getting bigger!” The waves grew more violent, tossing the old fishing boat wildly on their crests. If I wasted any more time, not only would I fail to save him, I wouldn’t make it back myself. Finally, he moved. Lucas scrambled over the yacht railing, closing his eyes as he jumped. The moment his feet touched the boat’s edge, a wave struck, throwing him backward. Just as he was about to tumble into the sea, I grabbed his collar and yanked him up with all my might. I dragged and threw him onto my deck. He lay there, lips ashen, scared out of his wits. As I turned the boat around, I tried to reassure him. “Don’t worry, I’ve sailed this route for over twenty years. I’ll get you back safe.” The return journey was even more perilous than the trip out. The storm raged, and the waves swelled higher and higher. The cuts on my arm burned like hell from the saltwater, making me feel like my whole arm was about to snap off. But I couldn’t stop. After what felt like an eternity, just before the full force of the storm hit, we finally reached the shallows. I collapsed onto the boat, my entire body aching, bones feeling dislocated, blood dripping from my arm. The shore was in chaos. A few villagers helped Lucas off the boat. Old Man Gunther wrapped him in a towel and handed him a mug of hot water. Mr. Davies also embraced his son, his face filled with relief and concern. No one looked at me. Not even a “thank you.” I leaned against the helm, catching my breath for a couple of minutes, before getting ready to head home. A voice from behind stopped me. “Wait a minute!” Lucas, wrapped in a clean towel, strode over. He tossed his dripping wet jacket at me. “This jacket? Limited edition. Three thousand bucks!” I stared at the torn jacket on the deck, my mind blank. “What do you mean?” “Don’t play dumb, you witch! You’re the one who ripped my jacket. Aren’t you going to pay for it?” “And you drive like a maniac! Couldn’t you keep the boat steady? Waves splashed all over me!” I froze. It took a few seconds for it to click. When he jumped, he nearly fell into the sea. I’d grabbed his collar to pull him up, and that’s probably how his jacket got torn. I looked at him, then at my arm, still bleeding. “I just saved your life, and you want me to pay for your jacket?” He puffed out his chest. “A life is a life, a jacket is a jacket!” “You damaged my property, you have to pay! My dad says no one gets a free pass!” I turned to Mr. Davies. I thought he’d say something. After all, I had just risked my life, diving into the storm to pull his son from the sea. Any father would value his son’s life more than a tattered jacket, right? But his reaction completely blindsided me. He glanced at Lucas, a flicker of approval in his eyes. As if to say: Good boy, standing up for your rights. Then he turned to me, his voice flat. “You made a mistake, you have to take responsibility. You damaged the jacket, so you must pay!” I suppressed my anger, staring at Mr. Davies. “Why should I pay? I saved your son’s life!” Mr. Davies sneered. “Who asked you to save him? The rescue team was almost there. People like you, always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, just looking for an excuse to cozy up to us, right?” Lucas jumped up, glaring at me. “Exactly! You’re just a boat driver, trying to show off in front of me, hoping to climb the social ladder? Dream on!” I was stunned by his sheer arrogance and shamelessness. I looked at my fellow villagers, hoping they’d speak up for me. But they stood with Mr. Davies and his idiotic son. “This girl is so clueless. Mr. Davies is investing fifty million in our village. Why argue with him?” “Yeah, you damage something, you pay for it. Mr. Davies is right.” “Mr. Davies is a big shot, he treats everyone equally.” Listening to their familiar accents, seeing their familiar faces, I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. Fifty million? This Mr. Davies had promised to invest fifty million dollars in North Reef Village for tourism development. Yet, he hadn’t invested a dime, instead staying here for three months, freeloading and sweet-talking. The villagers dared not offend him, fearing their cash cow would bolt. They practically licked his boots, eager to please. Old Man Gunther, seeing the stalemate, tried to smooth things over. “Penny, just apologize, and this whole thing will blow over. It’s not about the money for Mr. Davies; he just wants an explanation.” An explanation. I saved his son’s life, and he wanted an “explanation” for me tearing his son’s jacket. I smiled. I looked at them and slowly spoke. “Alright, I’ll pay.” Back home, I simply bandaged the wound on my arm. Then I sat in the yard, looking at the old fishing boat docked by the shore. I decided to sell it. Not because I was short on three thousand. On the contrary, my grandparents and parents had accumulated quite a bit of property, including a dozen shops in the adjacent bay. But I felt the boat was unlucky. My dad had gotten into trouble on that very boat. Now this. It felt like bad karma. I pulled out my phone and contacted a buyer in the next bay. He offered four thousand dollars, a thousand more than Lucas’s stupid jacket. The deal was done the same day, and the money was transferred to me in full. The next day, I went to Mr. Davies’ office. Lucas sat on the sofa, legs crossed. Seeing me enter, he grinned. “Well, well, did you actually scrounge up the money? You didn’t have to borrow it, did you?” I ignored him, placing the money on the table. “Receipt.” Mr. Davies had his accountant issue a receipt, which read “Jacket Damage Compensation.” I took it, folded it, put it in my pocket, and turned to leave. Lucas called after me, smirking. “Next time, don’t be so eager to climb the ladder, and try to steer the boat a bit steadier.” The next day, I packed my things, ready to leave North Reef Village. I had a house and shops in the next bay, a place to settle down and shake off the bad luck. As I stepped out of the gate, I ran into Old Man Gunther. He looked surprised. “Penny, are you leaving?” I nodded. He frowned. “Isn’t the Mr. Davies business over? Besides, what’s a young woman like you going to do running off so far?” “I’m not running. My family property is still here. I’m just going to check out the next bay.” Old Man Gunther waved his hand. “Mr. Davies invested fifty million in our village. Falling out with him won’t do anyone any good.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Old Man Gunther, has the fifty million arrived yet?” He stammered. “Soon, it’s going through the process…” I said nothing more, pulling my luggage and walking out. Just as I reached the village entrance, Mr. Davies’ car pulled up. The window rolled down, and Lucas poked his head out. “Oh, leaving already? Just because you had to pay three thousand? Is that why you’re running away scared?” Mr. Davies also glanced at me, stating calmly. “Young lady, don’t be so impulsive. You grew up in the village, going out might not be as good as staying here.” Lucas added. “Exactly, a boat driver, what can you do out there? Waitress?” I stopped, looking at them. “Mr. Davies, take your time with that fifty million. I’m not waiting.” Lucas’s face changed. “What do you mean?” “Nothing much. You keep scamming and freeloading in North Reef Village. I’m going to live my life in the next bay. No one gets in anyone’s way.” Mr. Davies’ face darkened. I settled into the next bay, taking over a storefront to sell dried seafood. My dad’s old clients, hearing I’d opened a shop, were willing to give me a hand. Business wasn’t booming, but it was comfortable enough. I’d occasionally visit North Reef Village. The village was still the same—run-down, roads unpaved, school unrepaired, not a penny of investment visible. Old Man Gunther would always greet me with the same line. “Soon, soon. Big projects take time, it’s always like this.” I couldn’t be bothered to expose him. One time, I overheard some villagers chatting. “Heard Old Man Hughes’ girl opened a shop in the next bay, doing quite well.” “Pfft, just selling dried goods? How much can she really make?” “She ran off over three thousand dollars, so petty.” “Exactly, a big boss like Mr. Davies, would he really care about her three grand? She just insisted on making a fuss.” I walked past them. They instantly fell silent when they saw me. No one thought Lucas was wrong. No one thought Mr. Davies was a problem. In their eyes, I was just a boat girl, supposed to quietly pay up and shut my mouth. I ignored them. Life went on like this for another year. It was the same storm season again. Lucas arrived in North Reef Village with a few friends. “Last time was just bad luck. This time I bought a new yacht, Italian imported. What storm can it not handle?” Mr. Davies stood nearby, probably feeling his son was now capable enough to venture out. At noon, Lucas set sail. Less than half an hour later, the storm arrived early. Lucas’s yacht was once again trapped in the same stretch of sea. After the distress signal was sent, the rescue team arrived quickly. But large ships couldn’t enter, and the rubber dinghies they launched were capsized by a single wave. Mr. Davies was sweating with anxiety. He seemed to remember something, frantically dialing numbers on his phone. Meanwhile, I was at home, taking a nap. Waking up, the numbers on my phone screen made me pause. Seventy-one missed calls, over a hundred text messages. Before I could even open them, my phone rang again.

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My childhood best friend, who happens to be a massive A-list actor, claimed his pipes burst and came over to my place to shower. But while he was in there, I accidentally answered a FaceTime call from the current “it girl” co-star he was rumored to be dating. “What are you doing, babe?” “He’s in the shower. Do you want to call back later?” Right at that moment, my best friend’s voice echoed from the bathroom: “Hey, can you grab me a towel?” With that one sentence, the entire internet exploded. His carefully crafted “single and unavailable” persona? Fake. His secret, hidden-away girlfriend? Very real. 01 Liam Wright is my childhood best friend; we grew up together. When we were little, I was determined to be his “boss,” but somehow, he beat me to it by becoming Hollywood’s newest obsession. So, I lost my chance to make him call me “boss.” To keep his ego in check, every time I watched his shows, I made sure my curtains were pulled tight. Like right now. Watching him play the devoted, silently suffering golden retriever trailing after the female lead, I clenched my fists. He was always a complete goofball in front of me, but on TV, he was playing this innocent, lovesick puppy. Swish. The curtains were suddenly ripped open. The same Liam who was just standing in the pouring rain for love on my screen was now standing in front of me, soaking wet. The outline of his abs was faintly visible through his clinging shirt. He waved a hand in front of my face. “Forgot what I look like?” I smoothly hid my iPad behind my back. “No. What are you doing playing wet t-shirt contest in the middle of the day?” “Just tell me you’re tempted.” “I will literally punch you into next week, believe it or not.” I raised my fist, pretending to hit him. My heart, however, was secretly racing like a wild horse. “Hit me then.” He smirked, reaching out to ruthlessly ruffle my hair. He swaggered past me with his long legs. “A pipe burst at my place. I came over to use your shower. You don’t mind, right?” 02 “How does a pipe just burst out of nowhere?” “It couldn’t handle how hot I am.” He moved fast, shutting the bathroom door before I could run over and smack him. “If my pipes burst because of you, I’m ending you.” He has the exact same phone as me, a white iPhone 14 Pro Max. He’s also incredibly lazy, so when he liked my phone case, he forced me to order him the exact same one. So, when a ringtone went off, I instinctively grabbed the phone and hit accept. The audio came through before the video buffered: “What are you doing, babe?” “I missed you so much.” Those two sentences left me absolutely stunned. I finally realized I had accidentally answered Liam’s phone. “Uh, he’s in the shower right now. Do you want to call back in a bit?” “He’s in the shower? Wait, who are you? Don’t you know you shouldn’t answer other people’s phones?” She frowned, firing off three questions in a row. I was just about to explain when Liam’s voice rang out from the bathroom: “Hazel, grab me a towel, would you?” “Hold on—” 03 The call had already been disconnected. I had to put the phone down and go find a towel. “Open up, towel delivery.” I knocked on the bathroom door. “Yeah. I’m opening the door now, don’t go peeping again.” “…” What did he mean by again? I instantly felt a vein pop in my forehead. During our junior year of high school, I went over to his house for late-night snacks. His bedroom door was cracked open, so I just walked in like I usually did, right exactly as he walked out of his bathroom, completely naked. That was the first time I ever saw the usually arrogant golden boy blush bright red and flee back into the bathroom like his life depended on it. Who knew that later, he would insanely twist that memory into me peeping on him while he showered. Thinking about it, a faint heat rose to my cheeks. “Who wants to look at you? It’s not like I didn’t see you running around bare-bottomed when we were kids…” A man’s hand reached out—defined knuckles, faint blue veins tracing the back—and snatched the pink towel inside. He let out a soft scoff. “Why is it still pink?” “It’s the only color I have. You got a problem with it?” “I wouldn’t dare.” His tone was so incredibly punchable. When he finally came out, I tossed his phone at him. “Some girl FaceTimed you earlier. I think it’s the one you were rumored to be dating last year. I thought it was my phone, so I answered it. Are you guys actually…” He glanced at me. “Don’t let your imagination run wild. I’m single.” He took the phone, checked it, and his brow furrowed slightly. Then, he casually tossed the phone aside. He lowered his head, drying his hair with the pink towel. The line from his neck to his waist formed a sharp, incredibly attractive arc. “You’re not going to call her back?” “Too busy. I’ll deal with it later.” For some inexplicable reason, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. 04 “Oh right, have you been watching my latest show?” As he leaned closer, the scent of my gardenia body wash wafted over from him. I blurted out, “Of course not.” Who knew that the second after he slowly nodded and said, “Haven’t seen it, huh?”, he’d lunge forward and snatch the iPad right out from behind my back. I shot up from the couch. “What are you doing?!” He laughed. “Nothing. Just checking your watch history. Why are you overreacting?” No, no, absolutely not. If he found out I secretly watched his shows, he’d probably brag about it for the next five years. “Give it back!” But Liam calmly sat down on the sofa, leaned back, and held the iPad high in the air, completely out of my reach. “Tsk, can those short little T-Rex arms reach this?” I launched myself at him, using all my strength to grab the iPad, and yanked it tight against my chest. I was just about to flash a victorious smile when I suddenly realized I was literally straddling his lap. My upper body was pressed against his, the position incredibly, undeniably compromising. “Don’t fucking pose like that…” He tilted his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing. A burning heat instantly spread from my ears to my cheeks. But before I even had a second to scramble off him. BANG. My front door swung open. The heavy tension in the air was instantly shattered by two synchronized “Holy shits.” My best friend Chloe and our other childhood friend, Noah, stood there, jaws on the floor. “Holy shit, you two have been hooking up behind our backs?! How could you betray the trust of our childhood friendship?! Fake sobbing…” “Ahhhhh, my eyes! I shouldn’t be seeing this! Oh my god!” “We are not hooking up!” I sprang off Liam like I was launched from a catapult. “This jerk stole my iPad, I was just about to teach him a lesson.” Liam leaned back against the sofa, looking perfectly content, like he had just been thoroughly ravished. “Yeah. She was teaching me a lesson.” 05 Noah looked at Liam. “Bro, you know you’re trending at number one right now, and you’re just chilling here playing around?” Me: “Isn’t trending his default state of being?” Noah tossed his phone to me. “You’re involved in this one too. Take a look.” The words “Liam Wright Hiding Secret Girlfriend” had a massive red “BREAKING” tag next to them. My heart instantly sank, and I shot Liam a shocked look: “You have a secret girlfriend? Since when…” The next second, Liam’s fingers pinched my upper and lower lips together. “I just told you. I’m single.” Noah patted my shoulder. “Whoa, whoa, hold the banter. We have a massive situation right now!” Chloe chimed in. “Yeah, you two really need to look at this.” I didn’t think much of it until I looked—then I almost had a heart attack. —It turned out that the FaceTime call earlier was from the current “it girl,” Aria Stone, while she was live-streaming a reality show. I clicked on a trending clip from the show. It was a small prank segment where the female cast members had to call a “guy friend,” tell him “I miss you,” and see how he reacted. One of the cast members suggested: “Has anyone called Liam Wright? I really want to see his reaction, hahaha.” The moment she said that, the live chat immediately started tagging Aria. She acted shy. “Oh my gosh, you guys guessed it. I was just about to call him.” She immediately dialed Liam’s number. At that moment, the livestream viewership spiked to its absolute peak. And then came the part I had just personally experienced. When it started ringing, Aria nervously touched her chest, looking incredibly expectant as she delivered the highly anticipated, “I miss you.” But the voice that answered was mine. Then, the top half of my face appeared on screen, saying he was in the shower. The live chat instantly derailed. The screen was flooded with nothing but question marks. “Whoa, WTF is happening???” “Wait wait wait? Did I hear that right? A girl just said he’s in the shower?” And then, when Liam’s voice echoed from the bathroom asking me to bring him a towel, the chat exploded completely. “I’m just watching a reality show, and my man suddenly has a girlfriend?!” “‘Hazel’? We need a full FBI investigation on that name ASAP!” “Nooooo, they told us he was a single, unavailable ice king! It was all a persona! I’m sobbing.” “Hey, can the girl take the phone into the bathroom? Not that I want to see anything, but it’s just rude to shower off-camera.” The comments were scrolling so fast I couldn’t even read them. Aria still had a smile pinned to her face, but she quickly ended the call, the amusement completely vanishing from her eyes. “Oops, sorry guys, I think I accidentally dialed the wrong number…” But a male cast member next to her leaned in, sounding absolutely certain. “Let me see. No, that’s definitely Liam’s contact.” Aria’s expression instantly froze. “Then maybe it’s his sister…” “No way. Liam has mentioned in interviews that he’s an only child.” The live chat instantly seized the opportunity to spam: “She’s just his ‘sister’… sure, Jan…” 06 And then Twitter basically broke. #LiamWrightSecretGirlfriend #LiamWrightMysteryGirl #LiamWrightShowersWithoutATowel Fortunately, only the top half of my face was visible. Aria had played the role of the female lead’s best friend who secretly pined for the male lead (played by Liam) in his massive hit crime thriller. Her character’s silent, unrequited love resonated with a lot of viewers. As a result, a massive wave of “shippers” were constantly looking for proof that they were dating in real life. On the night of the finale, their names trended together for hours. A lot of fans had been hoping for a happy ending for them off-screen. Now, looking at the chaotic discussions online, some were wailing that Liam wasn’t “staying pure.” But mostly, it was people crying that their ship had officially sunk. Me: “Liam, I think I might have accidentally caused a massive disaster for you…” He tossed his phone aside. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I actually think it’s pretty great.” “How is this great?” Liam: “Since she decided to call me on a livestream, I was going to end up trending with her name attached to mine no matter what I did today. Now, that’s not going to happen.” Chloe chimed in: “He’s right! If you hadn’t answered, today’s headlines would definitely be about Liam and Aria. But because you picked up, the entire narrative shifted. That show ended a year and a half ago, and she still occasionally posts vague, ‘secret crush’ quotes to piggyback off his fame. It’s so annoying.” I understood now. “Oh, so you’re saying I actually did you a favor?” “Exactly,” Chloe winked at me. “Why don’t you guys just admit you’re dating and capitalize on the hype, hehe.” Me: “What are you even talking about? We aren’t dating, what is there to admit…” Noah nudged Liam with his shoulder: “It’s fine. You two can just confess to each other right now and boom, it’s real. Keep the good stuff in the family, right?” Hearing the word “confess,” my heart inexplicably skipped a beat. Liam’s expression shifted slightly. He shot Noah a look: “Back off. You think this is something to joke about?” I guiltily joined in: “Yeah, exactly.” Soon after, his manager called to discuss a crisis management strategy. After taking the call outside, Liam came back into the living room. “Hazel, the producers are going to call back in a minute. Do you want to go on camera with me to clear this up?” 07 On the show, the other guests had finished their calls. Only one guy was left, a baby-faced actor named Connor. He got his cue from the producers. “I’m good friends with Liam. Since he was busy showering earlier and I don’t think everyone got enough of the drama, I’ll call him again, hehe.” Soon enough, Liam’s phone rang beside me. As soon as he answered, Connor said in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Missed you, bro.” Liam clicked his tongue. “Knock it off. I know you’re filming.” “Liam, Liam,” Aria suddenly leaned into the frame. “It’s us!” But the moment I stepped into the shot, the smile on her face stiffened slightly. Connor’s eyes widened in surprise. “Whoa, Liam, is this your girlfriend?” “She’s my best friend. We grew up together. My pipes burst, so I came over to borrow her shower.” Then he explained why he was at my house. Of course, he was mostly explaining it to the audience watching the livestream. Connor played along, “No wonder! You guys are childhood friends.” I held up my phone to the camera. “Sorry about earlier. Our phones look exactly the same. I thought it was mine ringing and just answered it without looking.” Connor flashed a gossipy smile: “But why do you guys have the exact same phone case? The internet is convinced they’re matching couple cases, haha.” Liam: “I thought her case was cute, so I just had her order me the exact same one to save time.” I nodded. “Exactly. Our relationship is completely platonic.” After saying that, I looked at him. Neither of us was used to being this serious in front of each other. The moment we made eye contact, we couldn’t hold it together and both cracked a smile. Liam pinched my cheek. “Keep a straight face. Give me a little respect here.” I tried to stifle my laughter. “Okay, okay.” It reminded me of high school when our homeroom teacher made us do a poetry reading together. We had practiced it perfectly. But when the teacher made us do a dry run at the front of the class, we made eye contact halfway through and both burst out laughing. Just like now, the more people watching, the harder it was to keep a straight face. While we weren’t paying attention, the vibe in the live chat completely shifted. It was entirely flooded with variations of “YOU GUYS ARE SUS.” “Sus. The way they look at each other is so sus.” “Sus. There is definitely something going on there.” “Sorry to break the chain, but is Liam secretly in love with her? That soft look in his eyes, the cheek pinch… I literally cannot stop myself from overthinking this AHHHH!” “Omg, the childhood friends-to-lovers trope is everything! Why is Liam acting like this in front of her? I’m crying.” “Just stop denying it and announce it already.” “I’ve been reading a childhood-friends romance novel lately, and now I finally have faces to imagine it with, hehe.” “Damn! I always thought this guy was totally clueless about romance, turns out he was secretly blooming this whole time.” Amidst the chaos in the chat, Aria’s voice suddenly cut in. “By the way, Liam, the viewers were asking: if you hadn’t known it was me calling earlier, would you have blushed?” The live chat was instantly confused. “Who asked that? The viewers?” “You clearly wanted to ask that yourself, don’t use us as a shield.” “No,” Liam answered flatly. “I generally don’t answer FaceTime calls from people I’m not close with. Plus, this is my work phone. Today was just a complete accident.” It was a brief statement, but the implications were massive. “Hahahaha, Aria, are you sure you’re not just here to act as their wingman?” “So, Liam and Aria aren’t even close? I thought they hung out all the time off-screen.” “I’m so done. In past interviews, Liam clearly stated he wouldn’t date anyone in the industry. The fans just refused to listen and insisted Aria was his exception. They got slapped in the face today, huh.” “Honestly, Aria pulling stunts like this every time has completely ruined any goodwill I had for her.” “Liam has my heart. He never clarifies rumors this directly. He’s actually anxious this time. He isn’t worried about the audience misunderstanding; he’s terrified his childhood bestie will misunderstand! I’m sobbing.” “Seriously, this authentic childhood friends ship is so much better than those forced, fake Hollywood showmances.” I watched the rapidly refreshing comments. I didn’t think much of it until I looked—then I almost had a heart attack. “Guys, stop making stuff up. You know how Liam looks at people. He looks at a dog with deep affection.” The chat instantly flooded with “WE DON’T BELIEVE YOU.” Me: “If you don’t believe me, ask him. His phone is full of terrible, ugly pictures of me.” Liam: “Yeah. I have gigabytes of them.” But the chat was impenetrable. “Keeping gigabytes of her pictures and refusing to delete them? True love confirmed!” “I don’t care, even if the President says otherwise, there is definitely something going on between you two.” I patted Liam’s arm. “Control your fans. Shipping anything and everything is only going to hurt them.” Liam’s lips curved into a smile as he looked at me. “Is that so? I heard shipping a little bit of everything is a balanced diet.” “???” How could he be making jokes at a time like this? I secretly punched his leg under the table, but he caught my fist in his hand and refused to let go. A tingling sensation spread from my fingertips, rushing up to heat my ears. 08 Before I could even process what was happening, the narrative online shifted yet again. Some gossip account had somehow dug up my TikTok profile. “Liam’s PR team won the lottery today. A small-time influencer ‘accidentally’ answered his phone while he was showering, trying to get famous. They played along, created this ‘childhood best friends’ persona, and the internet ate it up. Isn’t this PR stunt way more effective than a cease and desist?” “Wait, does anyone actually believe childhood friends buy matching phone cases, shower at each other’s houses, AND accidentally answer FaceTime calls? You don’t even need half a brain to know that’s impossible, right?” Yes, I have a TikTok account with about 300k followers. When I was studying in London, I’d often post pictures and videos of my daily life. I didn’t care about the follower count; it just kind of happened. I never expected that one day I’d be labeled an “influencer” by a gossip blog. And suddenly, a bunch of “sober” voices emerged. “I knew it was a PR stunt from the start. It’s hilarious how many people are falling for it.” “Honestly, I wanted to say this earlier. How could there be so many coincidences? A burst pipe? An asteroid hitting your bathroom would be more believable.” “That girl did it on purpose, obviously. But everyone is shipping them. So funny.” “I knew yesterday it couldn’t be a childhood friend thing. What guy friend has so little boundaries that he showers at a girl’s house? Turns out she’s an influencer…” “Pack it up, everyone. Rich guys and actors all end up with influencers eventually. We all know how it goes.” “The modern male celebrity’s go-to excuse to avoid being cancelled: ‘She’s just my childhood friend.’ If she’s really his childhood friend, why was there zero trace of her when he was in college?” “Exactly. Liam debuted in college. If he had a childhood best friend, his hardcore fans would have dug her up years ago.” “Aria is the real victim here. The look in her eyes earlier actually broke my heart.” A flood of unprecedented hate comments poured into my vlog account. “Don’t think we don’t know what you were trying to do by answering that call. Your desperation for fame is practically spilling out of the screen.” “Stop playing innocent. Everyone knows exactly what you’re trying to pull.” 09 At the same time, Aria posted a tweet late at night. It made my jaw drop. It was a few selfies of her with tears streaming down her face. “Rewatching the show I was in, I still want to cry. Having a secret crush is so painful.” Her tweet was instantly picked up by the gossip blogs. “Oh, honey, stop thinking about that man. He likes influencers, he doesn’t deserve you! Crying emojis” “So Aria is the only one still stuck in character. She bore the weight of it all alone.” A massive wave of people expressed their sympathy for her. “Wait, don’t get distracted by the narrative here. Aria has been clinging to Liam’s fame for relevance this whole time. Why is she acting like the victim now?” Whenever Liam’s fans tried to defend him, they were swarmed and mocked: “Hilarious. You actually thought that girl was just his childhood friend?” “Fans are selectively blind. You’re defending him, but he’s not going to date you.” “I’ve been a fan for four years, and I think he and Hazel look great together. Is that a crime?” “You claim to be die-hard fans, but it took you four years to find out he has a childhood friend named Hazel?” “…” 10 It was the middle of the night. The controversy was still brewing, and I didn’t want to act impulsively. I was terrified that one wrong post would be twisted by the gossip blogs. Liam was probably asleep too. No matter how anxious I was, I had to wait until tomorrow to discuss how to clear things up with him. I tossed my phone aside. Out of sight, out of mind. Sleep was more important. The next morning, I was woken up by my phone vibrating incessantly. Chloe: “Hazel! Look at Twitter! Liam posted photos of you guys!” 11 Liam’s clarification post went up at 4:00 AM. It was a carousel of nine photos. They were pictures of us together, from childhood all the way to adulthood. There were photos of us at the beach, sliding down slides at the playground when we were little, standing on the high school track field, reciting poetry together at the podium, and that one time on a snowy street in London. “To those spreading rumors, enough is enough. If this isn’t what childhood friends look like, would you like to discuss the definition with my lawyers?” Once those photos were released, the rumors shattered instantly. The internet exploded. “Haters, come out and apologize right now! Just because you don’t have a childhood best friend doesn’t mean no one else can!” “Ahhhhh! 4:00 AM! This is the fastest response I’ve ever seen! He refuses to let his girl suffer even a tiny bit of injustice. I’m sobbing.” “Those gossip accounts are fucking shameless, always trying to control the narrative. What did the ‘Blank Canvas’ (Liam and Hazel) ship ever do to you? So angry!” “Haters, open your titanium eyes and look at this! If this isn’t a childhood romance, what is? Stop claiming ‘all men are trash’ just because you thought your fave was messing around with an influencer!” He was even replying to people’s questions in the comments. Comment: “What are you going to do about those gossip accounts spreading rumors?” Liam: “Nothing. Just preparing to sue them.” Comment: “Did your pipes really burst? [Doge emoji] [Doge emoji] I don’t even want to expose you.” Liam: “They really burst. [Doge emoji]” Comment: “Bro, why did no one ever capture you guys together during the years you debuted in college? Shouldn’t childhood friends hang out often?” Liam: “She was going to university in the UK. Did you think I didn’t want to hang out with her?” “Hahahahaha! Am I detecting a hint of resentment in that sentence?” “The 8th photo was taken in London!!! Liam went to London to see his Hazel! Weren’t there fans who spotted him in the UK a few times back then? Case closed! He was going to see Hazel! I’m crying.” Eagle-eyed netizens even found the account that frequently interacted with me in my TikTok comments. “He is amazing. He commented on every single video. The most frequent question was, ‘When are you coming back to the States?’” The hate comments from before were buried. “Haters, please stop. If you scare our sister-in-law into not posting videos anymore, what is Liam going to look at?” Several alumni from our high school graduation year also stepped forward. “Oh my god, haters just invent things out of thin air. Calling her an influencer instead of a childhood friend? I’m so done. We were shipping Liam and Hazel back in high school, okay?” The atmosphere in the comments section under Aria’s crying tweet also drastically changed. “Girl, wake up. That ship sailed a decade ago. Stop being so dramatic, okay?” “You really know how to play the victim to rally your fans.” She quickly scrambled to post another tweet. “Sorry guys, couldn’t you tell I was just acting as a wingman??? I also think the ‘Blank Canvas’ ship is adorable. I posted that on purpose. Couldn’t you tell?” Netizens gave their sharp critiques. “The last time I was this speechless was the last time she did something like this.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “439059”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Seven years into our relationship, Ethan Reed turned our wedding into a divorce ceremony for the third time, making a complete fool of me. This time, I didn’t yell or make a scene. My heart had simply died. Around me, his friends roared with laughter while I stood frozen in the center, my face expressionless. “Haley, why aren’t you laughing? Don’t tell me you’re actually mad?” I said nothing. Gradually, their laughter faded as they exchanged awkward glances. The silence became eerily oppressive. Only then did Ethan press his lips together and step forward to ruffle my hair. “What’s wrong? Haley, are you really angry?” I looked at him, suddenly remembering the conversation I’d overheard last night between him and his friends. “Ethan, aren’t you worried that pulling this stunt will make the Rose of the South actually leave you?” Ethan had answered dismissively, “I promised Vivian I’d mess with Haley three times. After this one’s over, I’ll give Haley a real wedding to make up for it. She’s been with me all these years, after all.” Now, I stared at him quietly and forced my lips into a smile. “A divorce ceremony, right? Let’s continue then.”

“Continue?” Ethan’s casual expression froze, his smile flattening. “Haley Grant, are you serious?” My gaze moved past him to land on the large banner that read “Let’s Get Divorced.” Seven years. Countless moments I’d spent yearning for us to get married, to spend our lives together. But in the end, what I’d been waiting for wasn’t “Let’s get married,” but this absurd prank. The first time I learned Ethan might propose to me, joy and excitement kept me awake all night. When I arrived at the venue in my carefully prepared dress and the curtain was pulled back, my heart shattered along with my hopes. That was the first time I’d ever lost my temper with Ethan like that. He spent a long time trying to calm me down. He promised he’d never pull that kind of joke again. But only three months later, the same thing happened again. That was the second time. The third time is now. My chest felt tight and suffocating. The whole thing seemed pointless. I answered him. “Yes, I’m serious. Let’s finish the ceremony as you wished.” Ethan’s expression darkened completely. He stared at me without speaking. Three seconds later, he suddenly smiled, though his eyes were empty, yet somehow filled with inexplicable anger. “Fine. Then let’s continue.” The crowd that had been mocking me and enjoying the spectacle fell completely silent, standing awkwardly in place. “Did he really screw this up? That shouldn’t happen. Nothing went wrong the first two times, right?” Another girl sneered. “How’s that possible? Everyone knows Haley Grant worships the ground Ethan walks on.” “She was all over him when her family still had money. Now that they’ve fallen, there’s no way she’ll let go.” I looked up at her sharply, my gaze piercing. She immediately fell silent, closing her mouth awkwardly. At that moment, a woman in a red dress stepped forward. “Haley, don’t be angry. I apologize, I…” “What are you apologizing for!” Ethan’s angry voice cut her off as he moved to shield her behind him. I turned to look. It was Vivian Song. Ethan stood between her and me, his voice low and confrontational. “What are you standing around for? Let’s go through with the ceremony.” The guy in charge came up on stage with his script, so embarrassed his scalp was tingling. “Miss Grant, do you willingly separate from Mr. Reed, whether he is rich or poor, with no regrets?” An absurd location, absurd words. And absurd vows that made my chest ache uncontrollably. Ethan stared at me quietly, his thin lips pressed tight, his whole body radiating irritation. “I do,” I said. The moment the words left my mouth, there was a loud bang. Ethan hurled the microphone to the ground, his face dark as he glared at me. “Haley Grant, you’ve gone too far.” I felt drained. An overwhelming bitterness washed over me. “What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you all arranged? How am I going too far by just going along with it?” He was momentarily speechless. He took several deep breaths, then kicked over a flower arrangement at his feet. He stormed off, pulling Vivian Song along with him. The venue fell deathly silent. The background music happened to switch to: “Happy Breakup, I wish you happiness, you’ll find someone better.” Ethan’s friend quickly turned it off, coughing awkwardly. “Um… Haley, this is our fault. Don’t be angry. Ethan didn’t know about this either.” I ignored him. Whether he knew or not didn’t matter to me anymore. I mumbled an acknowledgment and walked down the red carpet off the stage. When I walked out of the hotel, the sky was gray and overcast, rain pouring down. A black Maybach pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down to reveal Vivian Song’s apologetic face. “Haley, get in. We’ll give you a ride.” My gaze moved past her to the man beside her who hadn’t even looked up. I replied flatly. “No need.” I heard the man snort coldly and give a curt order. “Let’s go.” The water splashed up by the car instantly soaked the hem of my dress. I laughed bitterly and pulled out my phone to make a call. “Attorney Chen, the trust fund my father left—the condition for me to inherit it is to go to America to find Grandfather and never return, correct?” “Yes, Miss Grant. Once you land in America, you can apply for the inheritance.” Watching the taillights fade into the distance, I murmured. “Alright. I accept.”

I returned home soaking wet to find the lights blazing inside. Ethan and Vivian Song were just standing there, looking at me. As if I were the one who didn’t belong. “It’s too late. Vivian’s staying at our place tonight. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” He studied me carefully, his body in a defensive posture. After all, the old Haley Grant, the Rose of the South, would have definitely rushed over and slapped her. But now… I only paused for a second before agreeing casually, “Fine. She can stay as long as she wants.” Before Ethan could furrow his brow, I changed my shoes on my own and headed to the master bathroom to shower. My stomach ached with a dull, sinking pain. When the hot water cascaded down, it was warm, gradually washing away the coldness in my chest. This kind of thing had happened before. The day Vivian Song returned to the country, Ethan had already brought her home. I stood in the living room, staring at the man at the door holding a drunk woman, my mind going blank. “You brought another woman home?” I laughed in disbelief. “Don’t you think you should avoid this kind of thing?” He didn’t even pause. He carried her to the master bedroom and laid her on the bed. My pupils trembled. He turned around on his own and went to the bathroom to wet a hot towel, gently wiping her face. While doing all this, he warned me. “Watch your words.” “Vivian is my childhood friend. She’s going through family troubles right now and feeling down. Stop giving her dirty looks.” I stood in the doorway watching him bustle around, unable to describe what I was feeling. Ethan had severe OCD. He absolutely wouldn’t allow me to come home drunk, reeking of alcohol. Once when I lost control, he had the driver take me to a hotel to book a room. The point was, I wasn’t allowed home. But Vivian Song could break all his rules. My thoughts snapped back as someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Haley, let’s talk after you shower.” The man’s magnetic voice sounded by my ear. I knew this was already him lowering his pride. Still, I didn’t answer. When I came out after showering, he was waiting by the door with a hairdryer in hand. “Sit down. I’ll dry it for you.” I happened to be tired. Why refuse when someone was offering to help? “Let’s just move past what happened today,” his slender fingers threaded through my hair, but they felt cold, icy, “and we’ll make things work.” “Mm, make things work.” Make my own life work. Hearing that, he breathed a sigh of relief, his tense expression gradually relaxing. “Good girl.” In the mirror, I observed those downcast eyes. Ethan had beautiful eyes. When he wasn’t smiling, they were sharp; when he smiled, they curved into crescents. When we first met, I ran into some local thugs at a bar who insisted I go into a private room with them. Back then, before my family’s downfall, I lived like no one in the South dared to cross me, so I hadn’t brought bodyguards. That middle-aged man, emboldened by alcohol, grabbed me by the hair and slapped me hard. “I’m doing you a favor by sleeping with you!” Just as the door was about to close, Ethan appeared. He kicked the man away, then looked down at me with mockery. “You’re usually so arrogant. How are you so pathetic now?” But I wasn’t angry at all. Instead, I fell for him right then. I chased after him for years. The hairdryer stopped, pulling me from my memories. Looking at him again, I realized with surprise that those eyes no longer stirred anything in my heart. “What’s wrong?” Ethan frowned and inexplicably looked away, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. “Nothing.” He was about to say something when the door was pushed open. Vivian Song walked in as naturally as if she belonged there, tugging at the man’s sleeve. “Ethan, can you stay with me?” “You know now that I’m back in England, you’re all I have. I’m a little scared.” Ethan glanced at me, hesitating. “Maybe I shouldn’t. I…” “Go ahead.” He looked at me sharply. Time seemed to freeze for an instant. Then he took a deep breath, as if deliberately trying to upset me. “Fine, then I’ll go stay with her!” I turned around calmly and got into bed on my own. That night, Ethan didn’t come home. And I passed out in my sleep, blood pooling beneath me.

When I woke up again, everything was blindingly white. Ethan sat beside me, hands pressed against his forehead, lost in thought. “What happened to me?” His whole body shuddered. He looked up, his eyes tinged with red. “The baby’s gone. Haley Grant, you were pregnant. Didn’t you know?” My expression froze. I could also hear the accusation in his tone. Just then, the doctor pushed the door open. I asked him, “Why did I miscarry?” He glanced at the medical report. “Habitual miscarriage. Your uterine wall is already very thin, and combined with getting caught in the rain, catching a cold, and developing a fever, miscarriage was inevitable.” Ethan shot to his feet, his eyes trembling. “Habitual miscarriage?” His eyes, filled with a gathering storm, fixed on me. “Haley Grant! Don’t you need to explain this to me?!” The doctor, sensing trouble, quickly distanced himself from the brewing conflict. I looked down, my fingers brushing over my stomach. My chest felt like it was being sliced with a small knife, sharp and painful. When I looked up, my gaze held a trace of hatred. “Explain what? The first baby—you personally had it aborted. The second one was drugged away by your mother.” “Did you think you hid it so well?” “Now, what right do you have to demand an explanation from me?!” His hands clenched into fists. The hospital room fell deathly silent, filled only with the man’s ragged breathing. “You… when did you find out?” “I knew from the very beginning.” When I miscarried the first time, we’d just gotten together. That day, I drank a glass of milk and felt dizzy and faint. Perhaps the dosage wasn’t enough, because my consciousness didn’t fade immediately. I heard the conversation between him and his mother. “Ethan, we can’t keep this baby. We need to devour the remaining shares of the Grant family. We can’t have this kind of complication now.” The man was silent for two seconds, his voice hoarse. “Alright, I understand.” He asked, “Will this abortion pill affect her body badly?” “Not much,” his mother said suspiciously. “Ethan, Vivian’s coming back soon. What are you planning to do? Mom knows you can’t let her go.” For a long time, he didn’t answer. He didn’t deny it either. I kept my eyes tightly shut. I wanted to cry, to confront him, but I couldn’t do either. When I woke up, perhaps out of guilt, Ethan stayed by my side constantly. “We’ll have more children in the future,” he promised. But I kept losing one child after another. My thoughts returned to the present. After I finished speaking, Ethan suddenly looked lost. “Haley, I…” His explanation was interrupted by someone pushing the door open. “Haley, I heard you had a miscarriage. I came to see you.” I collected my emotions and looked up. “Get out.” Vivian Song’s expression stiffened. She hadn’t expected me to be so blunt, leaving her unable to save face. She hesitated in the doorway, neither entering nor leaving. “Haley.” The man’s displeased voice carried a warning, as if his earlier guilt had been just an illusion. I suddenly felt powerless, my spine sagging. “I need to rest. Please leave.” I looked at the man with his brows knitted tight. “Is this attitude satisfactory?” Ethan opened his mouth, wanting to say something but unable to get the words out. Finally, he could only forcefully ignore the unease in his heart. He stepped forward and hugged me. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. Haley, when you’re discharged, I’ll officially hold a real wedding for you, okay?” “I’ll make up for everything I owe you.” “Three days from now, okay? I’ll prepare everything. I’ll compensate you properly.” My heart felt nothing. He didn’t wait for me to nod in agreement either. As if afraid of hearing me mock him, he pulled Vivian Song along and left. My phone chimed. It was a text from Attorney Chen. “Miss Grant, due to the typhoon, the earliest flight is at noon three days from now.” “I’ve already booked your ticket. Someone will pick you up in America.” My fingers landed on the screen, typing as if I’d been set free. “Alright. I’ll be there on time.”

That evening, Ethan brought me home. “Drink some hot water.” He sat down beside me, concern seemingly overflowing from his eyes. If only Vivian Song weren’t there. I found it absurd. He went to the balcony to take a call. I don’t know what the person on the other end said, but he glanced at me. That’s when Vivian Song spoke up. “Still not leaving him?” I looked up at her. Her eyes were mocking. “Honestly, I’ve never seen anyone debase themselves more than you.” “You should know he’s loved me from the very beginning. Even those three times he humiliated you were just because I asked him to.” Hearing that, I found it laughable. “And what about you? No matter who Ethan loves, at least he and I have a marriage certificate.” “What gives you the right to lord it over me?” Vivian Song raised an eyebrow and suddenly laughed out loud. I was confused. But I had an ominous feeling. She glanced at the man on the balcony with his back to us, then suddenly leaned close to my ear. “So you still don’t know.” My lips flattened. My fingers unconsciously tightened on my sleeve. “Know what?” She said softly, yet her words landed like a crushing blow. “Your marriage certificate is fake. It was just something Ethan used to placate you.” “What did you say?” My voice was hoarse. Vivian Song pulled out her phone, opened the marriage registry system, and checked her marital status. Then she held it in front of my face with cold mockery. “Open your eyes wide and look.” My stiff gaze turned toward it. In the spouse column, it clearly showed: Ethan Reed! My mind went blank. Everything was so absurd I couldn’t accept it. My eyes glazed over. I turned around and looked at the man on the balcony, suddenly laughing bitterly. “So it was all fake.” Soon after, he hung up and came back inside. Seeing my expression, he frowned and reached up to touch my forehead. “What’s wrong? Still not feeling well? Why is your face so pale?” I instinctively stepped back. His hand hung in the air. Ethan’s fingers froze. “Rest well. The wedding is in three days.” Three days later, early in the morning, Ethan wheeled a wedding dress into the master bedroom, gently ruffling my hair. “Take a look at the dress first. It’s too heavy, so you’ll put it on at the banquet hall. We’ll go together.” I turned my face away, avoiding his touch. “I’m not feeling well. You go ahead.” He hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Alright. The ceremony officially starts at noon.” Watching his retreating figure, my eyes were full of mockery. I tore up all the photos of us in the house, scattering them everywhere. Thinking of the gift I’d prepared for him at the wedding venue, I laughed coldly. After venting, I removed my SIM card and left without looking back. At the same time, at the wedding venue, Ethan’s mother looked extremely displeased. “Son, what were you thinking? Are you really holding a wedding with her and spending your life together?” “What about Vivian?” Ethan’s heart felt inexplicably heavy, as if something was suspended high above, unable to settle. “Yeah, it’s decided. I’ll make things work with Haley. As for the marriage certificate issue, I’ll handle it without her knowing.” He glanced at the time and asked his assistant. “Go check if Mrs. Reed has arrived yet.” The assistant was about to turn around when the hotel manager burst in, face pale and gasping for breath. “Mr. Reed, something’s happened…” Ethan’s heart sank, his expression instantly darkening like storm clouds. “Speak clearly!” The manager’s voice trembled with fear. “The bridal dressing room… You’d better go see for yourself…” Ethan’s eyes shook. His usually composed face now looked like a storm was approaching. He rushed out and pushed the door open with trembling hands. When he saw what was before him, his breathing stopped.

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On my wedding night, I caught my good friend Judson and my wife Doman in bed together. Crying, they claimed they were drunk and confused. They knelt at my door for three days and three nights. When they saw I was determined to divorce, Doman slit her wrists, and Judson got a vasectomy. Under the repeated persuasion of friends and family, I eventually softened. For seven years, she was gentle and considerate. Everyone praised her for knowing her mistake and reforming. Until my father-in-law Andrew’s birthday, when my six-year-old sister-in-law hugged Doman’s leg and asked: “Where’s my daddy?” I smiled and pointed at Andrew behind me: “Jones, your dad is right there, isn’t he?” Jones turned her head and said crisply: “I’m talking about my real daddy.” I froze and looked awkwardly at Doman. Her expression remained calm as she looked up at me and said: “Samuel, there’s something I never told you. Actually, Jones isn’t my parents’ child. She’s mine and Judson’s daughter.” I heard her words and froze in place. My brain felt like someone had punched it hard. It was buzzing. “What did you say?” My voice was trembling, full of disbelief. Doman put Jones down and patted her back: “Be good, go to Grandma.” Jones bounced over to my mother-in-law Eve. Eve scooped her up, her eyes darting away, not daring to look at me. Doman turned around, her expression so calm it was chilling. “Jones is mine and Judson’s child. Judson got a vasectomy. He’ll never have children in this lifetime, so I gave birth to her.” She paused, looking at Jones who was playing with Eve’s hair, her tone as casual as discussing what to eat today. “I originally planned to keep it from you for life.” I staggered back a step, grabbing the dining table behind me to keep from falling. “Then you… why are you telling me now?” My throat felt like it had been scraped with sandpaper. Every word tasted of blood. Before Doman could speak, Andrew stood up. He looked at me, his voice heavy: “It was my idea.” I jerked my head up to look at him. “Jones is already six years old. Your mom and I are getting old. We can’t raise a child properly.” “We don’t want to keep making this mistake!” My chest felt like someone was squeezing it. I couldn’t breathe. Eve suddenly put Jones down and pushed her toward the bedroom: “Jones, be good, go play inside. I’ll come keep you company in a bit.” When the bedroom door closed, she turned around. The expression on her face had completely changed. “Samuel, don’t blame Doman. If you hadn’t insisted on divorce back then, Judson wouldn’t have gotten a vasectomy. We were the ones who told Doman to give birth.” She paused, her tone self-righteous: “Judson is our adopted son. We had to leave him an heir!” My brain went blank. Doman had said back then that Eve had a late-life pregnancy and was afraid of gossip, so she went to Europe to give birth. Doman went along to take care of her for a whole year. I thought she was being filial. It turned out it wasn’t Eve having a baby. It was her having a baby. I raised my head and looked at Doman. This woman I had loved for ten years. We met in college and married after graduation. I thought we were a perfect match. But on our wedding night, she rolled into bed with her adoptive brother, my best friend. I asked for a divorce. She knelt on the ground begging, her forehead hitting the floor with loud thuds. Judson knelt beside her, a grown man trembling and crying. Seeing I wouldn’t compromise, the next day, she slit her wrists. When I rushed to the hospital, she lay in the bed, pale as paper, but gripping my hand tightly. “Samuel, I was wrong… please don’t divorce me…” “Without you, I’ll really die…” I softened. Judson also got a vasectomy that same day, saying he would spend the rest of his life atoning. Everyone urged me: “She slit her wrists, he got a vasectomy. What more do you want?” I thought about it for a whole month, convincing myself to forgive her, convincing myself to forget that night, convincing myself to love her again. I did it. For seven years, I forgot about that incident and treated her sincerely. I thought she had really changed. But now it seemed, all of this was just a joke! After a long silence, I raised my head and stared coldly at Doman, saying word by word: “Doman, let’s get divorced.” My voice was so soft I could barely hear it myself. When the words fell, Andrew and Eve’s expressions changed completely. Doman also froze, her brows furrowing tighter. “Over such a small matter?” She turned her head, impatience in her tone. I laughed, laughed until my eyes stung. “Small matter?” “Doman, you had someone else’s child and raised her right under my nose. That’s a small matter?” She sighed, turned to look at me, her eyes calm. “Samuel.” She placed her hand on her lower abdomen. “I’m pregnant.” “Are you sure you want to divorce me?”

I froze at her words. “What did you say?” Doman removed her hand from her abdomen and looked up at me, her eyes as calm as a stagnant pool. “Your dad has late-stage liver cancer. He doesn’t have much time left.” “Before he dies, doesn’t he just want to see you have a child?” I felt like all the strength had been drained from my body. These past seven years, I had mentioned having a child to Doman countless times. The first year, she said her career was just starting, to wait a bit longer. The second year, she said she wanted to enjoy our two-person world for a few more years. The third and fourth years, she always said she was busy, always said there was no rush. I thought she didn’t want children. I thought she was really planning for our future. But now, she was using a child as leverage to threaten me. In my mind, I saw my father in his hospital bed. When I visited him last week, he was so thin he was unrecognizable, yet he still held my hand and smiled. “Samuel, I don’t have many regrets in this life. I just want to see you have a child.” “You and Doman have been together seven years. It’s time to have a child.” I kept my head down, unable to speak. He patted my hand, smiling with expectation. “It’s okay, I can still hold on. I can still help you take care of the baby.” I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. Eve came over, her tone softening. “Samuel, you and Doman have been together so many years. Can you really bear to divorce?” Andrew also walked over, his head down as he said in a muffled voice: “Doman did wrong in this matter, but these years… how she’s treated you, you know in your heart.” “For the child’s sake, both of you back down a bit.” I opened my eyes suddenly, a bitter smile pulling at the corner of my mouth. Had Doman treated me well? Yes. After that incident, she was attentive to me in every way. Every morning when I opened my eyes, there was always a pressed shirt at the bedside. Whatever I liked to eat, she learned to make it at home. No matter how troublesome, she was willing to learn. When I worked overtime until late at night, she always left a light on, with soup warming in the pot. When I had a fever and was hospitalized, she stayed by my bed for three days and nights without closing her eyes. Everyone said I was lucky. “Your wife treats you so well. I’ve never seen anyone so considerate.” “You two are such a perfect match. You’ll definitely grow old together.” Even Andrew and Eve, because of that incident back then, were especially good to me. During holidays, Andrew personally cooked my favorite dishes. When my parents visited, Eve would accompany them shopping all day without complaining. I thought she had really changed. I thought the woman who knelt before me and slit her wrists was really spending the rest of her life in repentance. But it turned out all of this was just an act performed for me. I raised my head and looked at the three people in front of me, saying hoarsely: “So, what do you want me to do?” “Just acknowledge this child?” As soon as I finished speaking, Doman pulled out a document from her bag and handed it to me. “This is a property division agreement.” I looked down. The content was painfully glaring. It stated that no matter how many children Doman and I had in the future, 70% of the family assets would belong to Jones. Including the old house my dad left me. I was stunned and looked up at her in disbelief: “You want me to leave most of my assets to your illegitimate daughter?” Doman showed no guilt. She looked at me with complete self-righteousness. “Samuel, you don’t like Jones. In the future, you definitely won’t be able to treat both children equally.” “I’m just fighting for a bit more for Jones. Is that wrong?” “I just want to give my child security.” I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak for a moment. I just felt it was ridiculous. She wanted to give her child security, so she had to sacrifice my interests and my child’s interests? Why should I? I was about to argue when the doorbell suddenly rang. Eve walked over to open the door. Standing outside was a man in casual clothes, with a faint smile on his face: “I’m back.”

Judson’s voice carried into the living room. Everyone froze. Andrew and Eve’s faces first flashed with disbelief, then were overtaken by enormous joy. “Judson? Really?” Doman was even more excited, her eyes reddening. She unconsciously walked a few steps toward the door. Judson entered, first holding Eve’s hand and saying gently: “Mom, I’m back.” His gaze swept across the room. When he saw me, the smile at the corner of his mouth stiffened. “Samuel, you’re here too.” I forced out a smile that looked worse than crying. Seven years. Judson seemed not to have changed at all, except for a bit more gentleness in his expression. Did he know Doman had given birth to his child? Just as I was thinking this, the bedroom door suddenly pushed open. Jones, hearing the sound, ran out. The moment she saw Judson, her eyes lit up. Like a little butterfly, she flew into his arms. “Daddy! You’re finally here! I missed you so much!” Judson quickly held the child in his arms, the affection in his eyes overflowing. “I missed you too.” Jones wrapped her arms around his neck and looked at Doman, saying in a sweet voice: “Mommy missed you too. She looks at your photos every day.” Hearing this, Judson looked up at Doman, his gaze tender as water. Watching their happy family of three, I felt cold all over. Finally, I just laughed in anger. So they had known all along. Only I, like a fool, had been kept in the dark for seven whole years. I looked at Judson, my voice cold as ice. “Don’t you owe me an explanation?” I stared at him hard, asking word by word: “Didn’t you say you would never appear in front of me again?” As soon as I finished speaking, the smile on Judson’s face froze. He handed the child to Eve and looked at me, struggling to speak: “Samuel, I’m sorry, I…” “Enough!” Before he could finish, Doman sharply interrupted. She quickly walked to Judson’s side and glared at me: “Samuel, Judson finally came back. Are you going to drive him away again?!” Andrew and Eve also snapped out of it and immediately glowered at me. “Samuel, Judson has been gone for seven years. What more do you want?” “Exactly! This is our home. If anyone should leave, it’s you!” Jones also broke free from Eve’s embrace, rushed over, and pushed me hard, screaming: “You’re a bad person! Don’t bully my daddy!” I looked at their united front, looked at Doman’s undisguised disgust toward me. The last trace of warmth in my heart was completely crushed. “Fine, fine… I’ll leave!” Eyes red, I slammed the door and left. Leaving Andrew’s house, I drove toward the hospital. While waiting at a red light, I scrolled to Doman’s Twitter. It was a photo of their family of three. Judson holding Jones, Doman leaning against him, smiling radiantly. The caption read: [A happy family] I laughed, liked it, and left a comment under that post: [Brother becomes lover, sister becomes daughter. Quite happy indeed.] Less than a minute after posting the comment, Doman’s call came through. As soon as I answered, her angry accusations came pouring out: “Samuel, what do you mean?! Delete that comment right now!” I laughed coldly: “Isn’t what I said the truth?” “You!” She was furious. “Fine! You’ll regret this!” With that, she hung up. I tossed my phone to the passenger seat and floored the gas pedal. When I reached the hospital and went upstairs, I saw several nurses rushing a hospital bed toward the emergency room. And lying on the bed was my dad. I froze, my brain going blank. After coming to my senses, I frantically called Doman. “What did you do?!”

On the other end of the phone, her voice was cold and vicious. “What did I do?” “I just called your dad and told him I was going to abort the child in my belly!” “That the Simon family will be without descendants forever!!!” I was so angry my whole body shook. I roared into the phone: “Doman, are you insane! Don’t you know my dad is sick? Don’t you know he can’t handle shock?” “Get over here right now! Come tell my dad you were joking!” Doman laughed coldly: “Who told you to post that stuff on Twitter? Do you know how upset Judson was when he saw it?” “Do you know how much determination it took for him to come back?!” “Samuel, this is the price of speaking carelessly!” With that, she hung up directly. After that, no matter how many times I called, no one answered. Twenty minutes later, the light in the emergency room went out. The doctor came out, removed his mask, and shook his head at me. “There’s not much time left. Go in and see him.” All the strength in my body seemed to drain away. I staggered into the room and held my dad’s icy cold hand. He could no longer speak. He just looked at me weakly, his lips moving slightly. I understood from his lip movements. “Doman… child…” Tears burst from my eyes. I choked out: “Dad, don’t worry, the child is still there!” “She’s just mad at me, talking nonsense. Don’t take it seriously.” In my dad’s cloudy eyes, there seemed to be a glimmer of light. He struggled, as if wanting to say something. I leaned my ear closer and heard him use his last bit of strength to say: “Want… to see… Doman… and the child…” He wanted to see Doman. He wanted to see that unborn child. “Okay, okay, I’ll call her. I’ll call her right now!” With trembling hands, I took out my phone and called Doman’s number over and over, called Andrew’s house… all went unanswered. “Dad, wait, she’ll come soon, very soon…” I held my father’s increasingly cold hand, tears falling in large drops onto the back of his hand. I kept calling and texting, but there was never a response. My dad kept looking toward the doorway, the light in his eyes dimming bit by bit, little by little. Finally, I could only watch as my dad’s hand slowly dropped, watch as the line representing his heartbeat on the monitor became a flat line. “Dad——!!!” I knelt by the hospital bed, letting out a beast-like wail. Over the next few days, I handled my father’s funeral arrangements alone, without notifying anyone from Doman’s family. It wasn’t until a week later that my phone screen lit up. It was a message from Doman. [Tomorrow my parents are throwing a welcome party for Judson and announcing Jones’s identity. We’ll say Jones is our child to outsiders!] I looked at the words on the screen, expressionless. Seeing I didn’t reply, she sent a few more messages. [Alright, I know you’re still angry.] [Don’t worry, after the party ends, I’ll go with you to see Dad.] [We’ll bring Jones too, to make him happy.] [Remember to come tomorrow!] Seeing her mention my dad, a cold smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. I picked up my phone and replied with three words: [Got it.] After sending the message, I looked at the document envelope on the table. Doman, don’t worry. Not only will I come, I’ll prepare an unforgettable gift for all of you. The next afternoon, I appeared at the party on time. The hotel banquet hall was crowded. All the guests were relatives and friends from Doman’s side. Andrew and Eve stood on stage, beaming. “We’ve invited everyone here today to announce some great news!” “Our adopted son Judson, after working overseas for seven years, has finally come home!” Thunderous applause erupted below. Judson stood to the side in a sharp suit, smiling and nodding. Finally, Doman led Jones onto the stage. She took the microphone, smiling gently and gracefully. “There’s one more thing we want to share with everyone. Actually, Jones is mine and Samuel’s daughter.” She followed yesterday’s script, relating Jones’s “background” in detail. Finally, she looked at me with deep affection and said softly: “Now, let my husband, Samuel, say a few words too!” I was about to stand when Eve leaned close to my ear and whispered threateningly: “Don’t say anything crazy up there, or you’ll regret it!” I smiled, picked up the document envelope, and walked onto the stage. I took the microphone from Doman’s hand. Facing the crowd below, I said clearly, word by word: “Thank you all for coming today to attend mine and Doman’s—divorce party.” As soon as those words left my mouth, the entire room fell deathly silent.

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On the fifth day of my husband Owen’s business trip, his cousin Louise suddenly sent me a message. “Bruna, I saw the obituary Owen posted on Ins. I’m in postpartum confinement right now, so I can’t make it to your father’s funeral. Don’t be too sad. Take care of yourself and the baby.” My whole body froze. My dad was perfectly fine. What funeral? Also, Owen and I were childfree—where did this baby come from? I suppressed my inner unease and gave her a brief reply. Then I used a burner account, pretending to be his relative, and added Owen on Ins. Sure enough, I saw that obituary! I immediately drove three hours to the funeral venue. In the solemn funeral hall, I met Owen’s other “wife” from his Ins. She looked at me with red-rimmed eyes, her voice choked with emotion: “You must be Owen’s relative, right? Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to attend my father’s funeral.” My heart surged with shock as I carefully examined the woman before me. She wore an expensive black dress and only light makeup, yet it was clear she was extremely well-maintained. I tried to calm myself down, but my voice still trembled uncontrollably: “Where’s Owen?” “He’s…” “Mommy!” Before Emily could finish, a five or six-year-old boy rushed right over to her. My breath caught. That face was like a miniature version of Owen. Counting the time, I’d been married for five years. That meant Owen had been juggling two women at almost the same time. So, did she know about my existence? Between her and me, who was the mistress? After our marriage, Owen said he was afraid I’d work too hard, so he wanted us to be childfree. His family never gave me trouble over this even once. I’d always been touched by his thoughtfulness. Never did I imagine the truth was that he’d had a son with another woman! Emily crouched down and ruffled the child’s hair. A smile appeared on her pale face: “Jimmy, be good. I still have things to do. Go find Grandma.” My heart jolted. Mother-in-law Antonelli actually knew about all this! The boy nodded obediently and ran to an old lady. That was none other than Antonelli, who had been “bedridden with chronic illness.” Right now, she was holding her grandson and walking as spryly as could be. In my memory, from the first time I met Antonelli, she’d been sickly. Every day she took more pills than she ate food, and year-round she was practically a hospital regular. The reimbursement receipts Owen submitted piled up like a small mountain. My expression darkened, my voice trembling as I probed with a remark: “The old lady seems really healthy.” Emily didn’t notice my abnormal reaction. She sighed, her words carrying gratitude: “Yes, Antonelli loves me like her own daughter. She raised the child.” “I don’t work, and she gives me $20,000 in living expenses every month.” My heart clenched violently, and a suffocating feeling instantly enveloped my entire body. Owen lived with my family. Shortly after our marriage, he’d had surgery for a severe herniated disc. Since then, he’d been unemployed at home, responsible for taking care of household meals and chores. To support the family, I threw myself into business trips and overtime. I worked my way up from director to CEO, and naturally my salary rose accordingly. My father-in-law passed away early, and Owen had depended on Antonelli. To put his mind at ease, I’d suggested several times that we bring Antonelli to live with us, but he’d refused with various excuses. So I transferred $22,000 to Antonelli every month for medical and living expenses. It turned out this mother-son pair had been using it all to support his mistress and bastard child! There were quite a few guests at the wake. Emily didn’t notice my emotional state and brought me over to Owen’s relatives. I looked at these people’s faces—each one more unfamiliar than the last. Yet they all acted very familiar with Emily. “Emily, you’re the apple of Owen’s eye.” “For him and the child, you must take care of yourself.” Emily smiled bitterly, her left hand moving to her lower abdomen. “Don’t worry, I will.” They even had a second child on the way! I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, yet I felt no pain. Using the excuse that his hometown was too far, Owen had even kept our wedding simple. After marriage, I’d never heard of him keeping in touch with any relatives. I’d had my doubts. But he would sigh heavily and say that after his father died early, those relatives bullied him and his mother. Naturally, there wasn’t much point in keeping in touch. Only now did I understand—these relatives weren’t avoiding contact with him. They were just avoiding contact with me! In their eyes, they only recognized Emily as Owen’s wife. Owen, what kind of enormous trap did you set for me?!

The relatives around them kept praising Emily: “Owen is really good to you. I heard he claimed to be taking leave for surgery, but actually came home to keep you company. What a good man!” “Such strong work capability, always the top salesperson, and he hands over all his money, even has to report his pocket money to you.” “You don’t know how much we all envy you.” Emily’s face flushed, happiness practically overflowing from her eyes. “I’ve told him too that he needs to spend money when he’s out, and doesn’t need to be so hard on himself.” “But he cares about me, says he’s afraid I won’t feel secure, and he’s willing to let me manage things.” Only then did I realize—the surgery, being unemployed—it was all fake! “I heard Owen is about to be promoted to director, right?” “He’s so capable, he’ll definitely treat his wife even better in the future.” My heart jolted again. Director? How utterly ridiculous! Owen had a job, and I didn’t know. He had such a high salary, yet still felt entitled to spend my earnings. I’d never even seen him bring home a single penny! In reality, he’d given it all to another woman, supporting another household! Emily’s tone was gentle as she continued: “Owen is the best person I’ve ever met. Being able to marry him is the greatest blessing of my life.” “When he heard something happened to my dad, he rushed over immediately and arranged this entire funeral.” A few days ago, Owen had looked flustered, saying he needed to accompany a newly employed friend on a business trip. In reality, he came to be this woman’s support. And I’d thought he was being loyal to his friends. Turns out, the clown was me all along. “Not only that, everyone knows he’s afraid you’ll get tired, so he even hired a housekeeper for you.” “Emily, look how well-maintained you are, like a girl in her early twenties. You don’t look like a mother at all.” I thought of looking in the mirror before leaving—the exhausted face staring back at me. I was only thirty, but excessive overtime and running myself ragged for our small household had left me haggard. Yet the woman before me had clear eyes, unburdened by daily necessities. All because she had an Owen who loved her to the bone. But I didn’t. Emily’s eyes curved into crescents, the grief from our first meeting already more than half gone. “What touches me most is how good he is to my parents—so much better than me, their own daughter.” “He visits them every week, bringing all kinds of nutritional supplements. Each time he also transfers tens of thousands to them.” Perhaps mentioning her late father, Emily couldn’t help but shed two more tears. Because my dad was rather domineering, he disagreed with Owen and me being together from the start. I was blind, insisting I had to marry him. After marriage, to protect his pitiful little ego. I resolutely moved out of my villa and bought a small two-bedroom to have our own little world. Though it wasn’t far from my dad’s house, I rarely went back because of work. Owen would only visit my dad during holidays, going through the motions perfunctorily. It seemed cold, yet I couldn’t pick out any specific faults. He spent four days almost every week visiting his “sick” mother Antonelli. In reality, he came here to reunite with Emily’s family. He even used the William family’s money to give to his “in-laws” here. What a “good son-in-law”!

Owen called Emily: “Honey, I’ve bought everything needed for the burial.” “Don’t worry, everything for our dad is absolutely the best.” “Stop crying so much. You need to take care of your health. Our family will depend on you from now on.” Emily was moved to tears: “Owen, you’re the one who works hardest for our family.” “Don’t rush. There’s still time. Drive carefully and stay safe.” After hanging up, an old lady in a wheelchair came to Emily’s side. “Emily, where’s Owen?” Emily wiped away her tears and forced a smile. “Mom, he’ll be home soon.” She looked at me again. “I still have things to attend to. Could you help look after my mom?” With that, she turned to greet other newly arrived guests. Emily’s mother Laura sighed softly: “Emily’s father passed away suddenly. Owen prepared this wheelchair for me, afraid I’d be overcome with grief.” “He means well, so I can’t refuse this kindness.” Mentioning Owen, Laura’s face filled with pride. My heart had already gone numb with pain. Inadvertently, I caught sight of the gold earrings on Laura’s ears—they were my mother’s heirlooms! I thought I was seeing things, so I leaned closer to confirm several times. Both earrings had scratches I’d accidentally made as a mischievous child. In exactly the same positions! I was certain—these were my mother’s belongings! Inner fury surged up, rushing straight to my head. I reached out my hand, wanting nothing more than to rip them off right now and burn all bridges! But ultimately reason prevailed over impulse, and I didn’t do it! I did want to blow up this scene, but not to become a laughingstock! Making a scene like that would only make people think I was crazy. That would be too easy on Owen and this family. I retracted my hand frozen in midair. Laura asked me: “Are you married?” I tried to keep my tone steady: “Yes.” “How does your husband treat you?” “He cheated on me, wouldn’t let me have children, but secretly had a bastard with some tramp. He even used my family’s money to support that household.” Laura was slightly stunned, seemingly not expecting me to say such things, then anger appeared on her face. “Disgusting! That man is absolute trash, and that mistress and her family are no good either.” Her words actually carried some indignation on my behalf. “People like that belong in hell.” “You can’t let them off easy, or they’ll think you’re a pushover.” Coincidentally, that’s exactly what I was thinking. Just then, Owen called me, his tone urgent: “Bruna, something happened with my friend.” “I urgently need fifty thousand dollars. Transfer it to me quickly!” My hand holding the phone kept trembling. I suppressed my rage and asked back: “What happened?” “Did someone in the family die?” Owen was stunned, seemingly not expecting me, who usually supported him unconditionally, to say such a thing: “Why are you talking like that?” “Is that harsh?” “What do I care about their business?” “Figure it out yourselves!” After hanging up, within seconds, a new message from Owen came through. [You usually act so understanding, but you’re actually this heartless.] [Bruna William, don’t regret this!] The next second, Emily’s phone chimed with a new message, and she walked over to Laura. “Mom, Owen says he bought you some jewelry.” Laura smiled and said, “That boy, so extravagant.” While looking at the images Emily passed her on the phone. When I saw that jewelry, I completely froze on the spot. They were all my mother’s heirlooms!

I finally understood what he meant by telling me not to regret it. This man wasn’t satisfied with just giving away the earrings—he had to go this far! It truly refreshed my understanding of him once again. How could someone be so shameless?! “Mom, Owen says it’s only right to be filial to you.” “He also says after Dad’s funeral is over, he’ll take a few days off work to take you out to relax.” “Even if just for us, you must take care of your health.” Emily’s voice trembled, tears instantly welling up. Laura’s eyes filled with tears as she gripped Emily’s hand and nodded firmly. Seeing this scene, my emotions were incredibly complex. A loving mother and filial daughter, a harmonious family. Without all this mess, I might have admired them like everyone else. But all these happy scenes were built on trampling the happiness of me and my entire family! Emily gracefully attended to the guests like a competent hostess. Laura in front of me sighed deeply again, as if talking to me, yet also to herself: “Owen even suggested bringing me to live at his place.” She pulled out a grayscale photo of her late husband from her pocket. She touched the smiling face in the photo, a tear falling. “Owen is a good man who knows how to care for people.” “Emily is with him, so you can rest in peace.” “Even I can close my eyes without worry now.” I instinctively clenched my fists, my brows furrowing. My heart felt like it was being stirred by something, unbearably painful. But whatever is owed must be repaid, no matter who it is, right? Images suddenly flashed through my mind. When Mom was critically ill, I knelt crying by her bed, hands trembling as I accepted the jewelry box. Mom said this was my dowry, and also a safeguard in marriage. Dad had a huge fight with me, determined to stop me from marrying beneath myself to Owen. When he learned I’d gotten married, he fell ill from anger. But he still offered me an olive branch first, telling me if I ever suffered any grievance, he would always be my support. In a trance, I seemed to see myself again, working late at the office that night. My heart full of expectations for a happy marriage. Now, the dream was completely shattered. I couldn’t help clutching the pregnancy test in my bag—one I’d stroked so many times it was creased. It read: Pregnant, eight weeks. I’d planned to tell Owen this good news when he returned from his business trip. But sadly… “Emily, I’m here.” Owen’s shout brought me back from my thoughts. I saw him gently embrace Emily, coaxing her like a child, wiping the tears from her eyes. I’d never seen such deep affection in his eyes. I was also hearing that tender tone for the first time. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here for everything.” I never knew he had such a responsible side. As for the other secrets he was hiding, I had no interest in knowing anymore. Watching the two of them openly display their affection, my heart felt no ripples. Turns out when anger reaches its extreme, it becomes abnormally calm. “By the way, where’s your mom?” “One of your relatives is looking after her.” Owen let out a long breath and nodded. “Then we should really thank them.” With that, his gaze pierced through the crowd and landed on a familiar figure. And I walked up to the podium and picked up the microphone: “Owen, my husband. How are you going to thank me?” The entire funeral hall instantly fell dead silent. His heart skipped a beat. Owen looked up in utter shock. When his eyes met mine, his pupils contracted and all color drained from his face.

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I’d been with Ethan for seven years before my mom finally agreed to meet him. At dinner, the moment my mom raised her cup, Ethan’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and gave my mom an apologetic smile. “Just a moment, I need to take this call.” That moment turned into forty minutes. The food on the table had long since gone cold. When he came back, his jacket reeked of women’s perfume. My mom said nothing. She just looked at me. The disappointment in her eyes hurt more than any words of blame ever could. Ethan sat down beside me and ruffled my hair. “Sorry about that. Had a last-minute issue with a project.” I forced a smile. A few days later, I got my marriage certificate. Only the groom wasn’t him. When my mom left the restaurant, her back was slightly hunched. A taxi waited by the curb. Before she opened the door, she turned to look at me. “Rachel, just trust your own judgment.” Nothing more. I nodded and watched the taxi disappear into the night. Ethan stood behind me, his hand on my shoulder. “Is your mom upset?” “No,” I said. “That’s good.” He let out a relieved breath. “Next time I’ll put my phone on silent. Today was really just an accident.” I turned away, slipping out from under his hand. “What project?” “Hmm?” He looked confused. “You said there was an issue with a project,” I said, meeting his eyes. “What project requires you to step outside for a forty-minute phone call?” He paused, then smiled. “Listen to that tone. You sound like you’re suspicious of me. It was Serena’s proposal—there was a problem with it. It’s her first time handling a project this big, and she panicked. I had to calm her down.” Serena. His assistant. Six months with the company. Twenty-three years old. “That took forty minutes?” “Well,” he said, pulling me close—this time I didn’t dodge. “It should’ve taken ten minutes, but she started crying. I couldn’t just leave her like that. You know how girls are—once the emotions start, it’s a whole thing.” “Not like you, though.” He looked down at me, his gaze tender. “My Rachel always understands.” A bitter taste spread through my chest. It was always like this. He always said I was the most understanding, then felt perfectly justified giving his time and patience to someone else. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “Today was the first time my mom met you.” His hand stilled. “I know.” “She dyed her hair specially for today.” My voice was flat. “She hasn’t dyed her hair in ten years.” Ethan was silent for a few seconds. Finally, he just patted my shoulder. “I know. That’s why I feel even worse. Next time, I promise I’ll make it up to her properly.” “Let’s find a time. I’ll take her to that Italian place she likes. Sound good?” He finished speaking and glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late. Let me take you home. I have an early meeting tomorrow.” He raised his hand to hail a cab. I stood there, watching his profile. The streetlight stretched his shadow long across the pavement. He was still the same Ethan—always saying things no one could fault. But suddenly I remembered three years ago, when my mom first said she wanted to meet him. Back then Ethan had said, “Let me get a bit more established first. I want to give her a better impression.” Two years ago, my mom brought it up again. He’d said, “Next year. Once this project wraps up, I’ll have more free time.” Last year, he said he was preparing for it. This year, they finally met. And then came today. The car stopped in front of my building. Ethan unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over for a goodnight kiss. I lowered my head, pretending to search through my bag, and avoided it. “I’m tired. Drive safe.” His hand froze mid-air. After a moment, he pulled it back. “Alright. Get some rest.” I got out of the car. The moment I closed the door, I heard his phone ring again. He answered it, his voice warm with laughter. “Still awake? Don’t cry. I looked over the proposal for you…” The car started and drove away. I stood downstairs, watching the taillights disappear around the corner. My phone buzzed. A message from my mom: “Are you asleep yet?” My finger hovered over the screen for a moment, then I typed: “Not yet.” After a while, she sent another message: “Rachel, I’m not old-fashioned. If you really love him, I won’t stop you.” “But I’ll say this once.” “Don’t undervalue yourself.”

I sat on the couch until two in the morning. Only a floor lamp lit the living room. On the coffee table lay a photo of my mom and me, taken on her birthday last year. In the picture, her eyes were crinkled into crescents from smiling, holding the scarf I’d given her. I’d spent a month picking out that scarf. It cost half my monthly salary. When Ethan saw the price tag, he’d said, “You’re buying her something this expensive? She won’t even have anywhere to wear it.” I didn’t respond. I bought it anyway. My mom was so happy when she received it, but she never wore it out. She said she was saving it for an “important day.” Like today. I stared at her smiling face in the photo, feeling my throat tighten. I got up and went to my bedroom, pulling an old tin box from the top shelf of the closet. Inside were things from Ethan and me over the years. Movie ticket stubs, amusement park passes, birthday cards he’d written. At the very bottom was a yellowed sticky note he’d slipped into my backpack in college: “Once I graduate and start earning money, the first thing I’ll do is marry you, so your mom won’t worry.” The handwriting was messy, but every word pressed hard into the paper. I stuck the note back in the box and closed the lid. My phone buzzed again. A message from Ethan: “Did you get home? Get some sleep.” I stared at the message without replying. Five minutes later, he sent another: “Still mad?” “I booked an Italian restaurant for tomorrow lunch. I’ll take your mom. You come too.” I stared at the screen for a long time. Finally, I typed: “No need.” He replied quickly: “What’s wrong? Are you really angry?” “Rachel, I know I didn’t do well today, but you have to understand—Serena’s project is really important.” “I’m at a critical point in my career right now. Once I get through this phase, I’ll give you all my time, okay?” I didn’t respond. I closed the chat window and scrolled to a contact labeled “Mrs. White.” Three months ago, my mom had asked someone to set me up on a blind date. This was the mother of that potential match. I’d refused immediately back then. My mom had said, “Just keep the contact. You never know.” I’d saved it but never planned to use it. Now, I sent Mrs. White a message: “Hello Mrs. White, this is Rachel. About what we discussed before—would that still be possible?” After sending the message, I turned off my phone. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind kept replaying my mom’s expression today. And the perfume smell on Ethan’s jacket. It wasn’t the brand I used. The next morning, when I woke up, I had over a dozen messages on my phone. Ethan had sent seven or eight, ranging from “good morning” to “why are you ignoring me” to “what’s wrong with you.” Mrs. White had replied: “Of course! The young man is wonderful. How about meeting this weekend?” And one from my mom: “Rachel, are you okay?” I replied to my mom first: “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Then Mrs. White: “Yes, thank you Mrs. White.” Finally, I opened Ethan’s chat window. His latest message was from ten minutes ago: “Rachel, aren’t you being too childish?” “I already apologized. What more do you want?” I stared at those two sentences, my finger hovering over the screen for a long time. In the end, I typed: “Let’s break up.”

Ethan’s call came through three seconds later. I didn’t answer. He called five more times. When the sixth call came in, I picked up. Before I could speak, his voice came through. “Rachel, are you done throwing your tantrum?” His tone was clearly impatient. “I’m not throwing a tantrum,” I said. “I’m serious.” “Serious?” He gave a cold laugh. “You’re joking about breaking up? Rachel, how old are you? Why are you still so immature?” “I’m not joking.” “Then what do you mean?” His voice rose. “Just because I took a phone call yesterday, you want to break up with me? Don’t you think that’s ridiculous?” “It’s not because of yesterday,” I said calmly. “It’s because of these seven years.” He paused. “What seven years? What are you trying to say?” “I’m saying,” I looked out the window, “I’m tired, Ethan.” “I’ve waited seven years. You’re always waiting for the next time. Next time the project ends, next time things are more stable, next time you have more time.” “But there’s never a next time.” He was silent for a few seconds, then his voice softened. “Rachel, I know you feel wronged. But you have to understand—I’m at a critical point in my career right now…” “I understand,” I interrupted him. “I’ve always understood.” “So you—” “But I don’t want to understand anymore.” The line went quiet for a moment. “Rachel,” his voice turned cold again, “did your mom say something to you?” “I could see her expression yesterday. She clearly has a problem with me. Did she tell you to break up with me?” My grip on the phone tightened. “This has nothing to do with my mom.” “How does it have nothing to do with her?” His tone carried a hint of sarcasm. “You were never like this before. You saw her yesterday and suddenly you changed.” “Rachel, you’re twenty-nine years old. Can you stop listening to everything your mom says?” I closed my eyes. “Ethan, I’m meeting someone this weekend.” “Who?” “A blind date.” The line went completely silent. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice full of disbelief. “What did you say?” “I said I’m going on a blind date this weekend.” “Rachel!” He practically shouted. “Do you even know what you’re saying?!” “I do,” I said, my voice flat. “I’m completely clear-headed.” “Clear-headed?” He laughed bitterly. “If you were clear-headed, you wouldn’t say something like this!” “A blind date? You’ve been with me for seven years, and now you’re going on a blind date? Rachel, do you have any—” “We’ve already broken up,” I interrupted. “As of right now.” “So me going on a blind date is perfectly reasonable.” “You—” He seemed too angry to speak. After a long moment, he finally said, “Fine. Go.” “Go on your blind date. Meet a hundred people if you want.” “Rachel, I’ll be watching to see how long you can keep this act up.” He hung up. I put down the phone. My hand was trembling slightly. But my heart felt calm.

My mom called ten minutes later. “Rachel, did you and Ethan have a fight?” I was startled. “How do you know?” “He just called me.” My mom’s voice sounded tired. “He said you’re going on a blind date and asked me to talk you out of it.” “He also said you were influenced by me, and told me not to give you bad ideas.” I closed my eyes. “Mom, don’t worry about it. This is my own decision.” “I know.” She said, “I just wanted to ask if you’re serious about this.” “Yes.” The line was silent for a moment. “Then I support you.” Her voice was soft. “You’re my only daughter. I just want you to be happy.” “If he truly cared about you, I wouldn’t care about losing face yesterday.” “But if he can’t even care that much, I can’t trust him with you.” My eyes began to sting. “Mom…” “Don’t cry.” Her voice carried a hint of a smile. “Why cry? This is a good thing.” “I already asked Mrs. White about it. The man is a teacher—solid and reliable. Meet him this weekend. If it doesn’t work out, just think of it as making a friend.” “And if it works out…” She paused. “I hope you won’t be deceived by a man again.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “Mom, I disappointed you.” “Silly child,” she sighed. “You’ve never disappointed me. I just feel bad for you.” After hanging up, I sat on the couch in a daze for a long time. My phone buzzed again. A message from my best friend Sophie: “I heard you’re going on a blind date?!!” “Did that jerk Ethan call you?” I replied: “I’m the one who initiated the breakup.” She responded instantly: “You should’ve broken up ages ago!!” “I’ve been side-eyeing him forever!!” “Remember your birthday last time? He said he was on a business trip, but I saw his assistant’s location check-in on social media—she was in the same city!” I stared at this message, my fingers going cold. I called Sophie. “When was this?” “Last month, on your birthday.” Sophie said, “I wanted to tell you then, but you were swamped with that project. I didn’t want to distract you.” “Wait, let me find it for you.” Soon, she sent me several screenshots. From Serena’s social media. The photos showed a restaurant with candlelight and wine on the table. The caption read: “Thanks to Mr. Hayes for the guidance. This newbie is finally making progress!” The location showed our city. Posted at 8 PM on my birthday. That day, Ethan had told me he was on a business trip in another city. The project was urgent, and he’d have to work late. He told me to celebrate my birthday without him and promised to make it up when he got back. I stared at that photo for a long time. Candlelight, wine, warm lighting. And Serena’s eyes curved into crescents from smiling. “Rachel, are you okay?” Sophie asked carefully. “I’m fine.” I heard my own voice, completely calm. “Thank you for telling me.” “Are you really going on this blind date?” “Yes.” “Then I’m coming with you.” She said, “I’m not letting you go alone.” I smiled slightly. “Okay.” After hanging up, I opened my chat history with Ethan. I scrolled up to a month ago. That day I’d messaged him: “When are you coming back?” He’d replied: “The project’s a bit tricky. Might be a couple days late. Happy birthday, babe. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” I’d responded with: “Okay.” Looking at that message now. Every word felt like a joke. That weekend, Sophie came with me to meet the person Mrs. White had introduced. His name was Nathan, thirty-one, a high school teacher. He was a quiet person, didn’t talk much, but answered questions very earnestly. He asked me, “Have you really broken up?” I was taken aback. He smiled. “I heard you had a boyfriend you were with for a long time. I don’t mind, but I want to know if you’ve really moved on. I don’t want to be anyone’s substitute.” I looked at him, suddenly feeling this person was very sincere. “I’ve moved on,” I said. “Or rather, I’m in the process of moving on.” He nodded. “That’s good.” “I can wait for you to fully move on.” After the meeting ended, Sophie pulled me aside. “This guy’s pretty good. Way better than that scumbag Ethan.” “And did you see how he looked at you? He genuinely likes you.” I smiled without responding. My phone buzzed. A message from Ethan: “Done with the blind date?” “So, how was it? Meet your standards?” His tone dripped with sarcasm. I didn’t reply. He sent another message: “Rachel, I’m giving you three days to cool off.” “If you don’t come back after three days, don’t blame me for what happens next.” I looked at this message and smiled faintly. I closed the chat window. Opened my contacts and sent Nathan a message: “Nathan, thank you for today. If it’s convenient, could we get our marriage certificate tomorrow?” He replied quickly: “Of course.” I put away my phone. Sophie leaned over. “What are you texting?” “Getting married tomorrow.” “So fast?!” Her eyes widened. “You’re serious?” I looked across the street at a coffee shop. Five years ago, Ethan had told me in that very place that once his career stabilized, he’d marry me. “Yes. Completely serious.”

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