Category: English

I’d just gotten back from two weeks of shredding the slopes in Aspen with my best friend. Around midnight, my phone rang. Someone told me to move my car. Half-asleep, I figured it was a prank call, mumbled “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” and went back to sleep. A few minutes later, a man claiming to be a cop called. “Move your car immediately, or we’re having it towed.” All sleepiness vanished in an instant. But my car was parked in my own designated spot. Where was I supposed to move it to? 1 The man’s voice on the phone was a raw, angry bark. “You parked in the wrong spot. Move it, you hear me?” I frowned, my patience worn thin from two weeks of travel and being woken up in the middle of the night. “You must have the wrong number. I’m in my own parking spot. Where am I supposed to go?” “Your spot? I’ve been parking here since the day I moved in. You better move that piece of junk, or I’m not responsible for what happens to it.” His words sent a shiver of doubt through me. What if I really had parked in the wrong place? I threw on some clothes, grabbed my keys, and headed down to the parking garage. The moment I approached, a burly, menacing man pointed a thick finger in my face and started screaming. “You goddamn bitch! Shameless slut, you dare take my spot? You got a death wish or something?” The sudden torrent of abuse stunned me. Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and involuntary. But then I looked up and saw the number painted on the concrete wall: B3502. My spot. A wave of humiliation and rage washed over me. “Say that again,” I said, my voice shaking. “Whose spot is this?” The man’s fleshy jowls quivered with fury, his finger still aimed at me like a weapon. Spittle flew from his mouth, landing just inches from my feet. “Are you fucking stupid? Get your piece-of-shit car out of my spot, now! Don’t think I won’t hit you just because you’re a woman.” His sheer belligerence ignited my own anger. “Watch your mouth. And for the record, this is my spot. I’m parked here legally. Why should I move?” He sneered, his eyes bulging. “Screw you, you worthless cunt. I’ll say whatever I want. Now move the damn car before I smash it to pieces.” I clenched my jaw, tears blurring my vision. “I told you, this is my spot. You have no right to make me move.” He brought his heavy boot down on my car door. A sickening thud echoed through the garage, leaving a deep dent in the metal. “My right is that I’m your fucking boss right now. Are you moving it or not? The next kick lands on you.” I glanced up at the security camera mounted on the ceiling. “No,” I said, my voice dripping with fury. “Go ahead. Try it. I’ll make sure you rot in a cell.” He spat on the ground, a disgusting glob of yellow phlegm landing on my shoe. “Ooh, a tough little bitch, are we? Fine. I won’t kick you. I’ll just smash your car.” He stomped over to his own vehicle, a massive black Mercedes, and returned a moment later with a baseball bat in his hand. “Last chance. Are you moving the car?” “No.” He raised the bat with a savage grin. “It’s illegal to hit you. But it’s not illegal to smash a piece of junk parked in my spot.” CRUNCH. CRACK. SMASH. He brought the bat down again and again, caving in the front of my car. The thunderous noise set off a sickening chorus of car alarms throughout the garage. A security guard came running, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What’s going on? What are you two doing in the middle of the night?” 2 Seeing the guard, the tears I’d been holding back finally streamed down my face. The bully, Frank, beat me to it, smoothly offering the guard a cigarette. “Hey, man, sorry about the noise. It’s this little bitch here. Parked in my spot and refuses to move. Stubborn as a mule. You know how these young women are, think they’re princesses and the whole world has to bow down to them.” The guard saw the premium brand of the cigarette and a greedy grin spread across his face. He tucked it behind his ear for later. Then he turned to me, his expression all stern disapproval. “Miss, if you’re in someone else’s spot, just move. There’s no need to make a scene. You young girls are all the same, spoiled rotten. Not everyone in this world is going to coddle you just because you’re a woman. Now move your car and stop causing trouble.” I stared at him, a fire blazing in my chest. “One cigarette is all it takes for you to throw fairness out the window? This spot is mine. Why the hell should I move?” The guard hesitated for a second. Frank scoffed. “She’s a fucking liar. I’ve been parking here since I moved in. How come I’ve never heard it was your spot? Besides, you drive a cheap piece of junk like that, you think you can afford a parking spot that costs more than your car? You’ve gotta be kidding me.” The guard’s eyes flickered between my old, beat-up sedan and Frank’s gleaming Mercedes. It didn’t take him long to make up his mind. “Come on, lady, it’s the middle of the night. Just move it and be done with it. You’re keeping everyone awake over nothing. How can you be so selfish? Look, there are plenty of empty spots over there. Just park in one of those.” “I told you, this spot is mine. I bought it. I’m not moving.” “Oh, so you want to play it that way, huh?” Frank’s face turned purple with rage. He raised the baseball bat again. “You asked for this. I’m going to turn this heap of scrap metal into a fucking pancake.” With a roar, he began smashing my car with a terrifying, relentless fury. I just stood there and watched, my face a cold mask. He went on for a full half-hour, until there wasn’t a single panel on my car left undamaged. “Hello, I need to report an assault. Someone just destroyed my car and…” I had just raised my phone to my ear when the baseball bat swung through the air and connected with the side of my head. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. My world went silent, replaced by a high-pitched ringing. Something warm and wet trickled from my nose. I touched it. Bright red blood. Frank froze, his eyes wide with panic. He dropped the bat. “God damn it, my lucky day. Fine, don’t move it. Fucking bad luck, wasting my time.” The world swayed around me. I slowly crumpled to the ground. The sounds around me seemed muffled, trapped behind a thick wall of glass. The guard waved a hand in front of my face. “Miss? Miss, are you okay?” When I didn’t respond, he panicked and ran. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911, then called for an ambulance. 3 When the police arrived, I vaguely remember trying to explain what happened. Then, I blacked out. When I woke up, it was noon the next day. The doctor told me I had a severely perforated eardrum. The tear was so large it would require surgery to repair. I also had a concussion and needed to rest. After the doctor left, two police officers came in to take my statement. “Didn’t I tell you everything last night?” I asked, confused. The officer shook his head. “You were mostly crying and just kept saying a big man hit you. We didn’t get any other useful information. And the security camera for that area was broken.” My heart sank. The management in my building was usually pretty good about maintenance. How could the camera just happen to be broken? “Was it just that one camera?” The officer nodded. “The property manager thought it was strange too, but that’s the situation. Do you know the man who attacked you?” I shook my head. “Wait. There was a black Mercedes parked next to my spot. It belongs to him. Maybe you can identify him through the car.” “Okay, we’ll look into it. Is there anything else?” I remembered the security guard. I told the police everything. 4 A few days later, the police informed me they couldn’t find the Mercedes in the garage. They couldn’t find the security guard, either. “Are you sure you remember correctly?” one of them asked. I shook my head. How could I forget? The events of that night were burned into my brain. They replayed in my nightmares, waking me up in a cold sweat. Two weeks later, I was discharged from the hospital. The first thing I did was go to the property management office. “Who was the security guard on duty for Building 7 on the night of July 8th?” A young woman with a bob cut helped me. She checked the records. “That was Leo. Do you need to see him?” “Yes,” I nodded. A few moments later, a slightly overweight man walked in. “You were looking for me, ma’am?” I looked at him, and my stomach dropped. It wasn’t him. The guard that night had been tall and skinny, with sly, calculating eyes. “Were you the only one on duty that night?” The man looked annoyed. “One guard for the night shift isn’t enough? What is this about, anyway? The cops have already asked me eight times.” I lowered my head and mumbled an apology. I walked out of the office, feeling completely defeated. Just as I was leaving the building, I saw him. The bully. The man I had been searching for. I calmly dialed the detective in charge of my case and began to follow him, keeping my distance. I waited for him to get on an elevator, then watched the numbers light up. Luckily, he was the only one inside. The elevator stopped on the 18th floor. Our building has two apartments per floor. It wouldn’t be hard to find him. The police arrived shortly after. We went up to the 18th floor and knocked on the first door. An elderly woman answered. After a few questions, she confirmed she was home alone. That meant he lived in the other apartment. My heart pounded as I pressed the doorbell. It rang and rang, but no one answered. My hope began to fade. Unwilling to give up, I held the button down, letting it buzz incessantly. Finally, there was a noise from inside. “Who the hell is it? In such a goddamn hurry to die? Ringing and ringing, you got a problem…” The door flew open. The man froze when he saw us. He recovered quickly, a greasy smile spreading across his face. “Officers. What can I do for you?” “Where were you at 3:30 AM on July 8th?” The man, Frank, scratched his head, putting on a look of simple-minded confusion. “I was at home, sleeping. Why? Did something go missing? Was there a murder?” The officer’s face was grim. “Can anyone verify that?” Frank was smug. “Sure. My wife.” He yelled into the apartment. “Honey, come out here! The police have some questions. We’re law-abiding citizens, gotta cooperate, right?” As he spoke, he shot me a look of pure, unadulterated triumph. “Coming.” A woman, just as large as Frank, emerged from the apartment. “What’s wrong? My husband was home with me all night.” “We haven’t even asked a question yet,” the officer pointed out. “How do you know what we’re here about?” 5 Frank’s wife froze for a second. The color drained from his face. Then she laughed, a little too loudly. “Oh, I heard you from the other room. Weren’t you asking where he was on the night of the 8th? What happened?” I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I pointed at Frank, my voice shaking with rage. “Stop pretending! You’re the one who called me in the middle of the night, and when I wouldn’t move my car, you smashed it to pieces and hit me with a baseball bat! You ruptured my eardrum!” Frank clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. Oh my, who would do such a terrible thing to a young lady? That’s just awful. I feel for you, really. Too bad we can’t find the guy who did it.” His wife was even worse, rolling her eyes at me with contempt. “Listen, girl, I’m not trying to be mean, but why did he hit you and not someone else? Maybe you should think about what you did wrong. Sometimes, if you’re not such a bitch, you don’t get hit.” She covered her mouth in mock surprise. “Oh, sorry. I’m just a little too honest. No offense.” The officer glared at her. “Are you certain your husband was home at 3 AM on July 8th? This is an official inquiry, and we are recording. Lying to an officer is a crime.” Frank’s wife, clearly confident we had no proof, stood her ground. “Don’t worry, officer. We’re good, law-abiding citizens. We would never commit perjury.” “Alright then.” The officer sighed. “We’ll need to see your IDs for our report.” The couple reluctantly handed them over. After we left, the officer told me, “We’ll run a check on any vehicles registered to them. In the meantime, please be careful.” I nodded weakly, all hope draining away. Even if they found the car, what then? People like them would never admit to anything. But a bitter sense of injustice churned in my stomach. Was the victim supposed to just take it, while the attacker walked free? Agitated, I found myself walking down to the parking garage. I stared at the mangled wreck of my car sitting in its spot, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. It wasn’t an expensive car, and it was a few years old. But I could never bring myself to replace it. I had saved for so long to buy it after graduation. It was my first major purchase. Even later, when I had enough money for a house and a much better car, I couldn’t part with my old partner, the one that had been with me from the very beginning. I ran my hand over the dents and gashes, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. Suddenly, a small light on the dashboard flickered. It was as if my old friend, my silent companion of so many years, was trying to say hello. My mind exploded. How could I have been so stupid? My dashcam. It recorded 24/7. And I had cloud backup, with storage for up to 90 days of footage. 6 I practically flew back to my apartment, memory card in hand. Before I could even plug it in, I got a friend request on my phone. The profile picture was of Frank. The message read: “Accept. Urgent.” My hands trembled as I accepted. Was he here to apologize, knowing about the dashcam? I was wrong. He was here to gloat. “Sucker. You deserved it.” “That’s what you get for taking my spot.” “What’re you gonna do? Cry to the cops again? They can’t do shit without proof. Bet you’re pissed.” My fingers flew across the screen, my knuckles white. “The law has a long arm. You just wait.” He sent back a rolling-eyes emoji. Then came the final, infuriating message. “Hahaha, stay mad. Go on, try and get me arrested. I’ll be waiting. And I know that spot is yours now. Soon as you move that piece of junk, I’m parking there again. Thanks for buying me a parking spot, bitch!” He followed it up by spamming me with a dozen GIFs of a smirking man saying “Thank you!” Then, one last taunt. “Come on, little slut. Call the cops again. I’ll be right here at home, waiting for them to come get me. ;)” “Okay.” I sent the single word, a cold smile on my face, then blocked him. He was so brazen because he knew the number and the social media account were untraceable burners. Fine. I didn’t need trash like him cluttering up my phone anyway. I took a deep breath, plugged the memory card into my laptop, and found the video from that night. “You goddamn bitch! Shameless slut, you dare take my spot? You got a death wish or something?” “She’s a fucking liar. I’ve been parking here since I moved in… Besides, you drive a cheap piece of junk like that, you think you can afford a parking spot that costs more than your car? You’ve gotta be kidding me!” … “You asked for this. I’m going to turn this heap of scrap metal into a fucking pancake.” “God damn it, my lucky day. Fine, don’t move it. Fucking bad luck.” Every frame, every word was captured in crystal clear quality. The video and audio were perfect. I made a copy, grabbed the original memory card, and headed straight for the police station.

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The head table at the Stewart Industries annual gala was a sacred space, reserved exclusively for core family members. So when I walked into the ballroom, I was surprised to see my husband, a man famously aloof, with a young, unfamiliar woman seated beside him. The girl offered a sweet smile and greeted me. “Good evening, Mrs. Stewart. I’m Julian’s new assistant, Alice Reed. It’s my first time at an event like this, so please bear with me.” I glanced at the head table. The seat that should have been mine was now occupied by her. Julian looked up and saw me, his expression unchanged. “Stephenie, this is Alice. I brought her tonight to give her some exposure.” I knew, in that moment, that this man was no longer worth my breath. As Stephenie Stanley, the jewel of the Stanley family, I would never stoop to squabbling over a man with his flavor of the month. It was beneath me. 1 I kept my eyes fixed on Alice. The girl immediately put on a wounded expression. “Mr. Stewart said he was just showing me the ropes… I’ll go find another table right away…” She said the words, but her body remained perfectly still, showing no intention of leaving. I looked at Julian. He was in a hushed conversation with the CFO, completely oblivious to our little drama. Alice added, “I accidentally tore my dress, and Mr. Stewart was kind enough to let me wait here for a replacement.” Only then did I notice the small tear in the hem of her skirt. My heart plunged into an icy abyss. The head table at a Stanley family event was reserved for blood relatives and their spouses. When Julian and I first married, even my own cousin was politely asked to move when he tried to sit there. In the business world, Julian Stewart was known as a block of ice. He kept everyone at a distance, his boundaries absolute. He wouldn’t even clink glasses properly with a female board member he’d worked with for years, let alone arrange for a replacement dress for a junior assistant—such a personal gesture. When had this man, so defined by his principles, started making exceptions for others? I remembered our engagement night, what he told me: “The Stanley family rules are my rules.” The focus in his eyes then had made me believe in him, in his principles. Now, something was silently crumbling. But I, Stephenie Stanley, was no pushover. “Get up.” My voice was quiet, but it cut through the low hum of the head table, silencing it instantly. Alice clearly hadn’t expected me to challenge her so publicly. The hand holding her dinner knife froze over her napkin. “Mrs… Mrs. Stewart…” Her eyes reddened instantly, and she cast a helpless, pleading look at Julian. Julian finally looked up, his brow furrowed. “Stephenie, she’s just sitting here for a moment. It’s not a big deal.” He paused, then added, “She’s just an intern. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.” “Julian,” I interrupted, my fingertip tapping lightly on the table. “Do I need to repeat the rules of this family to you?” The entire table held its breath. Alice finally grasped the gravity of the situation. She scrambled to her feet, knocking over a champagne flute in her haste. “I’m… I’m so sorry…” she stammered, a few strands of hair falling from her meticulously styled bun. Julian rubbed his temples. “Just go to the powder room for now.” I watched his attempt to smooth things over and found it utterly laughable. I gestured to the head butler. “Please escort Ms. Reed to one of the side lounges. And have all the place settings at the head table replaced.” As I turned, I caught a glimpse of Alice’s clenched fists, the tips of her ears burning red with humiliation. And Julian? He was checking to see if she’d been cut by the broken glass. “The gala is cancelled,” I announced to the room. “Please, enjoy the rest of your evening.” I walked toward the exit without a backward glance. Julian caught my arm. “Stephenie, are you angry?” “She’s just an intern. Why humiliate her in public?” I looked at the way he was defending her and suddenly wanted to laugh. My husband was pleading with me on behalf of another woman. “Julian,” I said, smoothing a non-existent wrinkle on my sleeve, “are you sure you want to have this conversation here?” He understood my meaning immediately. I was forcing him to choose, right here, in front of everyone: defend the little assistant, or preserve the dignity of our marriage. Julian took my hand and walked with me out of the ballroom. “This is the first time an outsider has ever dared to sit at the Stanley family table.” My voice was soft, but it made Julian’s spine go rigid. He knew exactly what I was referring to. Who in our world didn’t know about Julian Stewart’s boundaries? Countless heiresses and socialites had tried to get close to him, only to be coldly rebuffed. Female assistants sent by business partners never even made it past their probation period. He let out a low chuckle, his fingertips tracing my tense jawline. “So, the great Stephenie Stanley does get jealous?” His warm lips pressed against my forehead. “She’s just a clueless new hire. I’ll have her transferred to a branch office tomorrow.” Julian tilted my face up, his eyes, magnified by his glasses, were focused and deep. “There will only ever be one mistress of my life, and that is you.” I stroked the diamond ring on my finger and said nothing. Don’t disappoint me, Julian. 2 The very next day, Julian disappointed me. I’d seen the way Alice looked at him during the gala, the little spark in her eye that gave away her ambition. I had thought that publically ejecting her from the head table would have been lesson enough. But then I was scrolling through my social media feed this morning and saw Alice’s post from the Maldives. “Thank you, Mr. Stewart, for the special reward! My first time flying first class~” The post included a picture of a first-class boarding pass and a screenshot of her chat with Julian. My fingers trembled uncontrollably. I knew that flight number. It was the route for Julian’s private jet. So, when Julian said “transfer,” he meant a transfer to the Maldives branch office. The bitter irony was that today was supposed to be our wedding anniversary. He had told me yesterday he was too busy with work and we’d have to reschedule. A sharp pain, like a needle, pricked my chest. I grabbed my phone, ready to call him. But then I stopped. To lose my composure over someone like her was beneath me. I dialed my travel agent. “Michael, I need you to book out every single five-star hotel room in Tahiti. For today.” The next day, while Alice was still posting selfies from the Maldives, every single employee in the company—except for her—received an all-expenses-paid, seven-day vacation package to Tahiti from me. Even the cleaning staff got one. My executive assistant, being the pro she is, made sure everyone posted about it. 【Thank you, Mrs. Stewart! This is what it feels like to work for the real boss!~】 【[Heart.jpg] Off to Tahiti!】 The posts were all accompanied by photos of first-class tickets and five-star hotel confirmations. The entire company played along with gleeful enthusiasm. In the corporate world, everyone knows which way the wind blows. Within an hour, the entire business community was buzzing about Stewart Industries’ lavish company retreat. The Director of Marketing posted a video of a stunning blue ocean in the 500-person company-wide group chat and then tagged Alice. 【@AliceReed How come you’re not here? Even the entire finance department made it.】 The chat went silent for three seconds. 【Oh, wait, my bad. I just remembered, I don’t think Alice got a ticket.】 He followed it with a “my lips are sealed” emoji. The group exploded. 【I heard there’s a typhoon in the Maldives right now.】 【The weather here is amazing! I just saw Mrs. Stewart going snorkeling.】 【Alice must be holding down the fort at the office, right? Poor thing, working so hard.】 Reading the messages, a satisfied smile touched my lips. When they all returned a week later, the gossip was still flying. “Did she really think she was the lady of the manor?” “Mrs. Stewart’s move was savage.” “The only person in the entire company left to watch the office… hahaha.” Alice frantically tried to wipe away her tears, accidentally knocking over her makeup bag in the process. The clatter of a lipstick rolling across the floor drew even more knowing glances. When Julian returned, he found Alice standing outside his office, clutching an envelope. “Mr. Stewart,” she said, her voice trembling, “I’d like to transfer you the money for the flight.” Julian frowned and took the ticket receipt. “The company group chat is going crazy.” Tears streamed down Alice’s face. “They’re saying… they’re saying I was the only one left behind…” She choked back a sob and showed him her phone, the screen filled with pictures of her colleagues partying in Tahiti. Alice’s fingers dug into the fabric of her skirt, her voice a barely audible whisper. “I honestly didn’t think Mrs. Stewart would be so upset…” She lifted her red-rimmed eyes, looking like a frightened rabbit. “Mr. Stewart, I’m willing to apologize to her in person… I’ll get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness if that’s what it takes.” Julian rubbed his temples. He never looked at employee social media, but the corporate retreat report from HR was currently flooding his inbox with pictures of Tahiti. A report in which Alice Reed was conspicuously absent. “Come home with me,” he said.

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Three years after breaking up with Asher Vance, his socialite mother tracked me down. She claimed he’d become a worthless degenerate and begged me to “save him.” I found him at a club, surrounded by sycophants as he flirted with girls. He froze when he saw me—then sneered. “Want me back? Get on your knees first.” I slapped him hard. Text suddenly scrolled across my vision: [Is this side character insane? Slapping the male lead!] [Our sweet heroine Claire would never act like this!] [Disobedient women deserve to die!] Asher’s face burned red with rage… Then he gritted out, “…Sorry.” The club fell silent. They’d forgotten—three years ago, I’d trained this young master to be my most obedient dog. 1 The day Asher’s socialite mother found me, I was finalizing my plans to study abroad. “Vera, please, I’m begging you. Go back to Asher and save him.” We met at the same café as last time. She got straight to the point, squeezing out a few crocodile tears. “Ever since you two broke up three years ago, he’s been spiraling. Now, he’s a completely degenerate heir who does nothing but party and waste his life away. That boy has been spoiled since birth. His father and I can’t get through to him at all. If he keeps going like this, he’ll be completely ruined!” I stirred my coffee, listening to her entire speech before letting a small, amused smile touch my lips. Because it was this same woman, in this same café, who had thrown a check at my face three years ago and demanded I leave Asher. She had arrogantly called me a gold-digging nobody, unworthy of trying to control her son. That men were born to be on top of women. That I should spend less time social climbing and more time educating myself. That my poverty was a sin and he would be better off without me. She conveniently forgot that it was because of me that Asher had managed to rein in his temper, graduate from college, and was preparing to take over the family business. I looked up at Mrs. Vance, my expression no longer holding the fear and uncertainty of three years prior. It was replaced by a cool, mature composure. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll do it.” Before she could even smile, I delivered the second half of my sentence. “But that comes with a different price tag. How long I stay by his side depends on how much you’re willing to pay. The moment the term is up, I’m gone.” Mrs. Vance’s face turned a sickly green. “Vera, how could you become so mercenary? You can’t put a price on matters of the heart! You’ve disappointed me so much!” I didn’t waste another word. I stood up to leave. Her expression shifted instantly. She scrambled to placate me, fawning and promising to wire the money immediately. I chuckled softly. Kindness gets you bullied. I learned that lesson three years ago. That night, with a five-million-dollar deposit in my account, I found the club where Asher was holding court and pushed open the door to his private room. The noise inside died instantly. All eyes turned to me. 2 Someone barked at me immediately. “Who the hell are you? You think you can just walk in here? Get the hell out!” I ignored the lapdog and scanned the room. It was filled with Asher’s usual cronies, each with a girl in a low-cut dress and a micro-skirt draped over them. Expensive liquor and food littered the table. It was a scene of pure, decadent rot. My gaze landed on Asher, slouched in a corner, leg crossed, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He’d dyed his hair a trendy ash gray and was looking down. Sitting next to him was a girl who was a watered-down version of me. I have an edge of ice; she had an air of innocence. Asher’s childhood friend recognized me, his jaw dropping. “Holy shit! Isn’t that the legendary Ve—” He slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The moment Asher heard my name, his head snapped up. Our eyes met, and he visibly flinched. The colored lights in the room seemed to dim, and I couldn’t quite make out his expression. When the lights flared back up, his face was a mask of disgust and mockery. Asher leaned back, slinging an arm around the girl beside him. Her cheeks flushed, and she snuggled against him like a delicate bird. A pity Asher didn’t notice her shy display. He was too busy trying to humiliate me. “Well now, look who it is. If it isn’t the gold digger who dumped me for money.” Asher’s eyes raked over me, from head to toe. Seeing not a single luxury brand on me, a smug satisfaction flickered across his face. “Still poor as dirt, Vera. What, you want to get back together? Why don’t you get on your knees and beg?” His friends erupted in jeering laughter. Other than his childhood friend, none of them knew who I was. Their insults were sharp and cruel. “Damn, what kind of idiot dumps a guy like Asher for money? If I were a girl, I’d be licking his boots every day. He could hit me, slap me, I wouldn’t care. I’d call him daddy!” “This chick is just trying to cash in, right? Why does she look so much like Claire? Is that a nose job? Jesus, can you stop with the desperate tactics? You’re not even fit to lick Claire’s shoes. She’s the one who deserves to be Asher’s wife!” Claire. That must be the girl’s name. As pure as it sounded. Hearing these words, Claire looked at me from the safety of Asher’s embrace with a sort of pity, hiding a sliver of triumph and disdain. She probably pitied me for going so far as to get plastic surgery to look like her, just to get close to Asher. And yet, I wasn’t even worthy of sitting beside him. Among them all, only Asher’s childhood friend remained silent, his eyes darting nervously between Asher and me. He opened his mouth as if to explain something, but someone else’s loud jeer drowned him out. Just then, the stream of text appeared before my eyes. [The villainess finally makes her entrance. Supposedly she’s the male lead’s ‘one that got away,’ but she doesn’t look like much. Way worse than our girl Claire.] [Don’t worry, she’ll be gone in a flash. The male lead has already forgotten her. He won’t give her the time of day.] [I always laugh at this part of the story. The side character tries to politely talk the male lead into going back to work, but he won’t even look at her. It’s so humiliating, hahaha!] Honestly, I had planned on being civil with Asher. It was our first time seeing each other in three years, after all. But after reading those comments, I changed my mind. Too much time had passed. Someone had clearly forgotten the rules. He needed a reminder. Asher was still preening, turning to praise his lackey for the insults, when a large shadow fell over him. I was standing right in front of him. I raised my hand high. And brought it down, hard, across his face. CRACK! The room went dead silent. 3 For a few seconds, everyone was frozen, as if someone had hit pause. Mouths hung open wide enough to fit an egg. Claire was the first to react. She glared at me, her eyes brimming with tears of indignation. “Miss, how could you hit him? Have you no decency? Even if you have a poor education and no manners, that’s no excuse to come here and harass people! Mr. Vance is not in your league!” What a masterful takedown, all without a single curse word. I found it amusing. Such a righteous little defender. Funny how she seemed to be enjoying it when they were slandering and insulting me just a moment ago. A selective sense of justice, reserved exclusively for men. [Ahhh, this bitch of a villainess is insane! Does she have a death wish, hitting a powerful male lead like that? She scared our precious heroine! Good job scolding her, sweetie! You were too gentle, though. Next time, tear her apart!] [This moron who’s doomed to die in three chapters is supposed to be his great love? More like a bad memory! With the male lead’s temper, he’s going to beat her face in!] [See, our girl Claire is gentle and considerate. The perfect little wife, born for him. She never talks back, she’s as obedient as a kitten. It’s obvious who anyone with a brain would choose, right?] [No wonder she’s the evil side character! Women who are greedy and disobedient are the worst. A woman’s greatest asset is her willingness to please a man. I hope she dies soon. Can’t wait for the male lead to lose it!] I was astonished. If being a fawning, submissive wife was what it took to be the heroine, then I was perfectly happy being the evil side character. What was a man? A creature born to serve women. They were that eager to see Asher lose his temper with me? I smiled faintly. Then I’m afraid you’re all in for a disappointment. I looked down at Asher from my superior height and said, word by word, “Apologize. To me.” A blond guy next to him spat and stood up, pointing a finger in my face. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking—” “Shut your mouth!” Asher’s roar cut the man off. The red handprint was still stark against his handsome, pale face, his eyes were crimson with fury. He met my gaze, and I saw the glint of tears in the corner of his eyes. But he gritted his teeth and forced out the words. “I’m… sor… ry.” The entire room was in shock. Asher’s friend muttered in terror. “Shit… it’s over… the only demon in the world who can control Asher is really back…” I nodded, satisfied. I was beginning to think they’d all forgotten. This young master of the Vance family had been trained, three years ago, to be my most obedient dog. 4 “All of you, get out!” When Asher gave an order, no one dared to disobey. Everyone except Claire scrambled out of the room, tripping over each other in their haste. The gossip about the young master getting slapped would probably be all over their social circle before long. Seeing that I wasn’t leaving, Claire frowned. “Miss, please leave! Didn’t you hear Mr. Vance? Can’t you show a little basic courtesy, or did you really drop out of high school?” Asher, dizzy with anger, snapped, “I was talking to you. Get out. Now.” Claire froze, her face crumpling as tears streamed down her cheeks. Though they weren’t officially together, it was clear she had already cast herself in the role of Asher’s girlfriend. She shot me a resentful glare, the kind you give the other woman, before running out of the room crying, her retreating figure like a fragile white flower. Nice. Very delicate. Too bad Asher was completely immune to such charms. He didn’t even glance her way. [What is the male lead doing?! How could he kick out his future wife? Shouldn’t he have yelled at the side character and comforted her?!] [This has nothing to do with the side character. It’s definitely because our girl said a few extra words to the second male lead yesterday, and our male lead saw and got jealous.] [Our male lead is such a little jealous baby! I hope he figures out his feelings soon and makes it up to Claire!] [But I’m still a little mad that he’s using the side character to make Claire jealous. Ugh, is he really letting this bitch get away with it?] [Don’t worry, our male lead knows what he’s doing. He would never let the side character touch a hair on his head. This is all just an act.] After enjoying their ridiculous mental gymnastics, I sat down across from Asher. “Your taste has changed?” Asher looked at me mournfully, ignoring my question. “Weren’t you going abroad? What are you doing here?” I raised an eyebrow. “How did you know I was going abroad?” Asher was speechless. “I…” “Paying such close attention to me… you’re not still in love with me, are you?” I leaned forward, my gaze invasive. The familiar pressure washed over him. Asher instinctively looked away, the tips of his ears turning red, but his mouth was still stubborn. “Who’s in love with you? That’s hilarious. It’s been 1,186 days. I’ve already forgotten all about you!” A smirk played on my lips as I stood up. “Alright. Well, I forgot to tell you, I moved my things back into the apartment we used to live in. Since you’re not interested, I guess I’ll just have to live there by myself.” Asher shot to his feet, his expression a complex mix of emotions. “You never ended the lease on that place? For three years?” I gave him a meaningful look without saying a word and pushed open the door to leave. He started yelping behind me like a desperate puppy. “Hey, hey! We can talk about this, don’t be in such a rush to leave! I never said I wouldn’t go! Dammit, you abandoned me for three years, can’t you at least pretend to beg me a little? Vera, get back here!” The corners of my mouth lifted. I leaned against the wall outside and lit a cigarette. After my foster mother passed away, I’d picked up the habit of having one occasionally. I watched the smoke curl slowly upwards, listening to Asher’s soft, excited muttering from inside the room. “Thank you, God, Jesus, Mary, and all the saints, she really came back for me…” I lowered my eyes, hiding the look in them. You fool. It wasn’t a god who answered your prayers. It was your mother’s money. 5 Asher and I met in college and were together for five years. During that time, he had countless falling-outs with his family. When a rich kid gets his allowance cut off, he’s just as broke as anyone else. So we rented a tiny one-bedroom apartment and lived there together for three years. After we broke up, I never canceled the lease. I would even come by occasionally to clean. If I had to give a reason, it was probably because after my foster mother died, it was the only place I had left that I could call “home.” I never expected it would come in handy like this. When Asher walked into the apartment and I saw the nostalgic, pained look on his face, I didn’t bother to explain the real reason. After all, I was only here for the money. Why would I say anything that didn’t benefit me? Letting him think I was nostalgic for him wasn’t a bad thing. It had only been a week since my last cleaning, so the place was spotless, preserved exactly as it was when we were in love. Asher did a slow circle of the room before turning to face the wall. As he turned, I caught the glint of red in his eyes. I knew he was already lost in his own world of romantic fantasies. Let him be. I was exhausted from the long day. I dragged my suitcase into the bedroom. Asher tried to follow me, but the door slammed shut with a decisive thud, mercilessly blocking him out. When I opened the door again in my pajamas, he was still standing there, his head hung in disappointment. If he had a tail, it would have been drooping. I tossed a set of clean men’s pajamas onto the sofa. “Change into these.” He looked up, his eyes bright, his imaginary tail wagging like a propeller. I added, “I’m sleeping in the bedroom tonight. You’re on the sofa.” And just like that, the tail drooped again. When Asher came out of the bathroom in his pajamas, I almost whistled. They say your face reflects your soul, and for someone as naive and innocent as Asher, it meant he looked young. Even after all these years since graduation, with his hair combed down, he looked as fresh as a college student. And I suspected he’d left the top buttons of his pajama shirt undone on purpose. It was a convenient way to show off his chiseled eight-pack and the V-line of his abs. Add to that his pale skin and the rivulets of water trailing down his chest, and from a purely aesthetic standpoint, I had to admit it was incredibly sexy and tempting. But I hadn’t forgotten my purpose. A financial relationship was better kept simple. I didn’t want to invite unnecessary complications. I calmly turned around, went back into my room, and got into bed. Crack. I thought I heard the sound of a young man’s heart breaking behind me. That night, for the first time in a long time, I slept well. I usually have trouble sleeping, but strangely, I always slept soundly when I was with Asher. Maybe it was because he was so simple-minded that I couldn’t bring myself to put up my guard. I don’t like enclosed spaces, so I left the bedroom door open. When I got up in the middle of the night, I tripped over something almost immediately. I turned on the lamp and froze. Asher was curled up on the cold floor beside my bed, with only his jacket for a mattress. Snapping out of my daze, I crouched down and stared at him, thinking, Is he going to start talking in his sleep now? “Vera… don’t leave me… can we please get back together…” Ha. I knew it. I leaned in close to his ear, my dark hair brushing against his cheek. “Asher, you’re a really bad actor.” Asher’s face turned visibly red. Perhaps he knew that when it came to intelligence, we weren’t in the same league. I had always been able to see right through him. “Then what’s your answer?” Asher threw caution to the wind and opened his eyes. They were as dark and deep as ink. “Let’s get back together. Forget the past and start over.”

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At my own birthday party, I was made to wear the late lady of the house’s sapphire necklace. The moment my ten-year-old son saw it, he shoved me down the stairs. He glared down at me, his eyes burning with hate, and ordered the butler to take the necklace from me. “I knew you were up to no good! You pretend to be so gentle and kind, but you’ve always wanted to replace my mother!” “Just wait until Dad gets home! I’ll make him throw you out!” Warm blood trickled from my forehead, a stark contrast to the ice forming around my heart. I looked at the child I had cared for for a decade. With a sigh of release, I nodded. “You don’t have to wait for him. I’ll leave now.” … Taking the towel our housekeeper offered, I pressed it to the gash on my head and started to go upstairs to change. But Ryan spread his arms, blocking the staircase. “Didn’t you say you were leaving? Then go! Why are you still going upstairs?” he snarled, his eyes wide with contempt. The face I knew so well was twisted with hatred. “I need to change my clothes,” I said, my voice calm. My gown was torn and spattered with blood. It would be humiliating to walk out like this. Ryan’s eyes raked over me, and he scoffed. “You’re so greedy. You wouldn’t even be wearing a dress that expensive if it wasn’t your birthday. What else do you think you deserve to change into?” “You sit at home all day doing nothing! All you know is how to ask my dad for money to buy this and that! And now you’re stealing my mom’s necklace!” “You want to leave? Then get out! Get out now!” Seeing his resolute stance, I sighed again. “Fine. I won’t change. Just let me go up and get Daisy.” Daisy was a cat I had rescued. When I found her in a storm, her umbilical cord was still attached. It took a great deal of effort to nurse her back to health. Ryan blocked me again. “You’re not going upstairs! The cat? I’ll get it for you!” He stomped up the stairs and quickly returned with the cat. He stood on the second-floor landing, holding Daisy out over the railing. A malicious grin spread across his face. “What if I just drop her from here?” he taunted. “You rolled down the stairs and didn’t die. The cat probably won’t either, right?” Before the words had even faded, he let go. Ignoring my own injuries, I lunged forward, trying to break her fall. Daisy was usually so gentle, but now, terrified, her claws shot out, scratching deep lines into my arms and chest. She screeched, scrambled out of my arms, and fled to a corner to hide. Seeing me clutch my bleeding wounds, my face contorted in pain, Ryan burst out laughing from the top of the stairs. “Hahahaha! Serves you right! Who told you to catch that thing? It’s just an ugly stray. Only trash like you would care about it.” I stared at Daisy, trembling in the corner, and said nothing. I had raised Ryan until he was seven, when his father, Ethan, suddenly took him away. He said Ryan was starting elementary school and that I, a high-school dropout, wasn’t qualified to educate him. He sent him to live with another woman. Seven years had woven that child into the very marrow of my bones. Tearing him away was an agony I could barely survive. After my pleas went unanswered, I snuck out to see him on his birthday. When I got there, I saw Ryan sitting on the other woman’s lap, cooing and kissing her cheeks. All the stubborn defiance he showed me was gone. The moment he saw me, he buried his face in her neck, clinging to her as if terrified I would drag him away. Ethan emerged from his study and immediately reprimanded me. “Who let you come here? Leave. Now.” They were a family of three. I was the outsider. It was during the rainstorm on my way home that day that I found Daisy. Her companionship over the next three years slowly began to fill the hollow space in my heart. I silently walked to the corner, soothed Daisy, and picked her up to leave. But Ethan was standing in the doorway. I don’t know how long he’d been watching. The same annoyance was etched on both the father’s and the son’s faces. Seeing my disheveled state, he frowned with impatience. “Alright, that’s enough. Go change your clothes, and then apologize to Ryan.” “Make sure you wear a long-sleeved gown.” “If the guests see your injuries and start gossiping, you’ll embarrass me again!” “And one more thing.” “Don’t you ever touch Lydia’s things again. Or I’ll throw you out of this house for good.” Like father, like son. Even their threats were identical. Blood dripped from my forehead. The scratches on my arms were stark and red. They didn’t ask if I was okay, only that I be presentable for the rest of the party. When I didn’t move, Ethan’s tone softened for some reason. “Fine. I’ll buy you a new set of jewelry tomorrow. Now go and take care of your injuries.” His gaze shifted to the cat in my arms. “That’s not a purebred, and it’s clearly not tame. Get rid of it. I’ll buy you a new one.” His tone, as always, allowed no room for argument. Just like when he had suddenly taken Ryan away, and just as suddenly brought the boy, now full of hatred for me, back home. He had never given me a chance to object. But suddenly, I was tired. For the first time, I refused. “No.” The air went still. Ethan looked at me as if he couldn’t believe his ears. His voice rose. “What did you say? No?” I looked him straight in the eye and nodded calmly. “Yes. I said no.” From twenty to thirty, I had given the best ten years of my life to this family. Day after day of raising a child, caring for Ethan, slowly watching my own youth fade. And in the end, there was nothing that was truly mine. Except for Daisy. I could only take Daisy. Ethan’s face immediately turned to ice. He called to the butler standing by the stairs. “Get that cat out of her arms and throw it out. Then take her upstairs to change.” “Dad!” “That’s enough, Ryan. Be a good boy and don’t make a scene tonight. How about I take you to see Aunt Anya tomorrow morning?” “…Okay, fine. But if this woman steals Mom’s things again, you have to kick her out!” “Alright, alright.” The father and son decided my nonexistent future right in front of me, as if I wasn’t there. I laughed at myself. Haven’t I always been treated this way? I was always just Lydia’s shadow. Ethan and the original Lydia had been childhood sweethearts. They married right after college. A year later, she was pregnant. But she suffered an amniotic fluid embolism during childbirth. They exhausted the city’s blood banks, but couldn’t save her. Ethan was devastated, completely incapable of caring for the newborn. Lydia’s family, afraid a new wife would mistreat the child, found me. I was desperate for money for my mother’s surgery, on the verge of selling a kidney. They told me I was also her father’s child—an illegitimate daughter. They offered me the money for my mother’s medical bills. In exchange, I had to go to the Ethan’s house, raise the child, and hold the position of lady of the house in Lydia’s place. I agreed. And so, I stayed for ten years. I was a mother, a nanny, a secretary. Even a bedmate. I exhaled, as if trying to expel all the bitterness and injustice of the past. Dodging the butler’s outstretched hands, I raised my voice, my tone firm. “Mr. Croft, I said, I’m leaving.” “Ryan is ten years old now. You have someone you love. There’s no need for me to stay here any longer.” “The deal we made is finished!” Ethan took a step forward, grabbing my face, his grip unyielding despite my injuries. “Elara, have I been too soft on you? Have you gotten bold?” “What is it you want? The sapphire necklace? Or the title of Mrs. Croft?!” “Mr. Croft, my name is not Lydia. It’s Elara.” Lydia wasn’t my name. The family had given it to me, so Ethan would never forget the woman he’d lost. “I’m not trying to blackmail you. I truly believe there’s no reason for me to stay.” “Thank you for the birthday party. I regret that I won’t be able to attend the rest of it.” I pulled his slackening hand away, bowed my head to him in thanks while clutching my cat, then straightened up and walked towards the door. “Lydia, you’re thirty years old and still so naive! Without this family, you are nothing!” “Then I’m nothing.” The name wasn’t mine. The child wasn’t mine. The husband wasn’t mine. You see, I was nothing to begin with. My entire existence here was just a transaction. Ten years was long enough. I didn’t want to be Lydia anymore. I wanted to be Elara, the person I had almost forgotten. Just then, an angry, childish voice yelled from the second floor. “Lydia!” I hesitated, but still turned back. One last look, as a final farewell. But a toy airplane was hurtling straight for my face. I couldn’t dodge in time. It slammed into my forehead. “Ah!” Fresh blood poured from the wound, and the impact sent me sprawling to the ground. From the second floor, Ryan, holding the remote control, cackled with glee, completely unfazed by the fact that the toy he’d just used as a weapon was one I had bought for him. “Hahahaha, you stupid woman! Go on, get out!” “After you’re gone, I’ll have my dad marry Aunt Anya!” “You’re a thirty-year-old hag! If it weren’t for the Crofts giving you scraps to eat, you’d be a prostitute by now! You think anyone would ever call you Mrs. Croft?” Ethan stood by, watching coldly, saying nothing. I silently pushed myself up and took one last look at the boy. Then I turned and left. Ten years, and I had nothing to show for it. After leaving the Croft estate, I had nowhere to go. My mother had passed away in my second year there. As for the Lin family, I had never been to their home, nor did I want to. With a sigh, I first went to a clinic to get my injuries treated, then took Daisy and checked into a furnished apartment I’d seen near the hospital. By the time I was settled, it was midnight. I picked up my phone and saw a dozen abusive messages from Ryan. I considered sending him an explanation about the necklace, but found I was already blocked. I had expected it, so there was no real disappointment. But my departure had been so abrupt. As Ethan’s unofficial private secretary, there was still work I hadn’t handed over. Many clients were still sending files to me. The next morning, I went to Ethan’s company. “I’m so sorry, Miss… Lin,” the receptionist said, bowing with an apologetic and awkward air. “Mr. Croft just informed us this morning that you are no longer permitted to enter the building freely, so…” I gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. Could you please just call the CEO’s office? Tell them I have some work to hand over…” Before I could finish, a wave of expensive perfume washed over me from behind. The impeccably dressed Miss Anya came to a stop beside me. “No need to call,” she told the receptionist. “I’ll take her up.” In the elevator, it was just the two of us. Anya’s face wore a perfectly polite smile as she stared ahead. “Miss Lin, I thought you were a person of some dignity. I assumed that after being kicked out, you wouldn’t show your face here again.” “But you’re more thick-skinned than I imagined.” “To come back looking for Ethan, so brazenly.” “Then again, a woman in her thirties… you’re too old to even be a mistress. I suppose you have to cling to Ethan for dear life.” “But let me be clear, Miss Lin.” “I made you leave once. I can make you leave a second time.” I had heard that Anya had been in love with Ethan since they were young. She went to study abroad after high school, only to return and find him already married and then widowed. I, the substitute, was by his side. She had remained unmarried all these years, and anyone with eyes could see she was waiting for him. Ethan knew it, too. That was why he had sent Ryan to her for a time. I ignored the venom in her words and explained quietly, “There are just some work matters to hand over. I…” Anya held up a hand to silence me and answered her phone. “Ryan, sweetie! Auntie is at your dad’s office. Have you eaten yet?” “Of course! Let’s have lunch together, and this afternoon, your dad and I can take you to the amusement park, how about that?” “Auntie misses you too! Oh, by the way, your… other mother is right here with me. Do you want to say hello?” Anya glanced at me, a smirk playing on her lips as she held the phone out to me. I hesitated, then took it. “Hello…” “You witch! What are you doing at my dad’s company?! Are you hitting on my dad again? Have you no shame?!” “You talked a big game yesterday, but not even a full day later you’re already desperate for a man, is that it?” “If you want a man so badly, hang a sign around your neck that says ‘I’m a slut, I need a man,’ and go stand on the street!” “I’m telling you, Dad, Aunt Anya, and I are a family! You just get as far away from us as you can!” Anya had put the call on speaker. Ryan’s raw, unfiltered rage echoed through the small elevator. I bowed my head in humiliation, blinking back tears. Not because of his malice, but because I’d just heard him sweetly call Anya “Mom,” begging her to come see him. I remembered when he was just over a year old, the first time he had called me “Mama.” He had thrown himself into my arms, laughing, kissing my cheek. My own mother had just passed away, and it was his tiny presence that had soothed my grief. I handed the phone back to Anya and listened in silence as she said her loving goodbyes to Ryan. The elevator doors opened. Anya walked out as if nothing had happened, knocked on the CEO’s office door, and went inside. “Ethan.” Hearing her voice, Ethan’s furrowed brow relaxed. But the moment he saw me, it creased again. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell the front desk not to let you up?” “I brought her,” Anya said smoothly. “She claimed she had work to hand over. She looked so pitiful, I thought I’d help her out.” “Anya, you’re too kind,” Ethan said. “What work could she possibly have? A high-school dropout—can she even read? She takes the trivial tasks I gave her and acts like they’re important.” I was a high-school dropout. When I was sixteen, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. With no savings, I had to quit school to work. My homeroom teacher told me the school could raise funds for me, that it was a waste for a student with my grades to drop out. But my mother needed someone to care for her. After much deliberation, I left school. “Leo, you handle the handover with her,” Ethan commanded. “Get it done today. And then inform the entire company that she is not to be allowed in here again.” He stood up from his chair and walked towards me, his presence looming. “Lydia, you’d better mean what you say.” “If I find out this is just some ploy to get back in my good graces, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” Perhaps it was because of my injuries, but when the scent of his cologne hit me, a wave of nausea washed over me. I clamped a hand over my mouth and ran for the restroom. When I came out, Leo, his assistant, was there with a handkerchief. “Are you alright?” I nodded, wiping the water from my lips. “I’m fine. We can do the handover now.” “Of course, Miss Lin. This way, please.” Leo was as gentle as ever, not looking down on me because of what had happened in the office. He had always been like this. When others would whisper and mock me for my background and lack of education, he always treated me with kindness and offered his help. On impulse, I called out to him. “Assistant Leo, actually!” The moment the words were out, I regretted them. But under his encouraging gaze, I finished my thought. “I… my name isn’t Lydia. My real name is Elara. After today, I might move to a new city.” “So, before I leave, I wanted to tell you my real name.” Leo looked at me for a moment, and a small, genuine smile touched his lips. “Of course, Miss Elara.”

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In my third year married to Collin, I learned I couldn’t have children—a permanent, irreversible defect. Grief consumed me, but Collin suggested adoption. At the agency, we met a sweet, well-behaved girl. I adored her instantly. But on signing day, I noticed a tiny birthmark on her hand. “I don’t want her,” I said. Collin insisted, “We’re adopting her.” “Then I want a divorce.” Shocked silence filled the room. “Over a birthmark?” Collin asked, disbelieving. “Yes. It’s ugly.” His mother snapped, “You’re the problem! You can’t have kids, and now you’re rejecting her over a mark a doctor could remove?” Collin pleaded, “We’ll get it removed. She’s lovely—is this worth the drama?” I laughed bitterly. “After we divorce, adopt her. Adopt as many as you want. I won’t care.” 1 Collin looked at me, his face a mask of bewilderment. “Lily! What the hell is going on? You’re throwing our marriage away for a child you’ve met twice? What did she do to upset you? This is insane.” I locked eyes with him, my voice devoid of all emotion. “It’s her or me. Choose.” He looked at me as if I were a stranger. Shock radiated from him. “She’s just a child, Lily. A little girl who’s already been abandoned once. How can you be so cruel? She can’t help her birthmark.” “Fine,” I cut him off. “Divorce it is.” The color drained from Collin’s face. I said nothing more. The air in the agency turned to ice. The staff exchanged nervous glances until the director finally broke the silence. “Mrs. Hayes,” she began gently, “Rosie is the sweetest child we have. She never makes a fuss, and she’s always helping the other children. We’ve had other potential families, but she never seemed to connect with them. She really took a liking to you.” My father-in-law tried to play peacemaker. “Lily, dear, she seems like a wonderful kid. And with modern medicine, if that mark bothers you, it’s an easy fix.” I remained silent, my resolve hardening with every word they spoke. Collin moved closer, his hand reaching for mine, his touch hesitant. “Can we please just go home and talk about this?” His voice was thick with a plea, a raw, wounded sound I’d rarely heard. I snatched my hand away, leaving him no room for hope. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ll have my lawyer draft the papers. Make sure you’re ready to sign them.” His mother gasped, her eyes wide with fury. “How dare you? You’ve been married into our family for three years without a single sign of a baby, and now we know why. We try to find a solution, and you throw it in our faces.” She jabbed a finger at me. “I never knew you were such a petty, vindictive woman. Are you trying to make sure the Hayes family line dies out?” She started dredging up the past, her voice rising with every grievance. “Remember all those times you wanted a midnight snack? My son got up to cook for you, no matter how late, without a single complaint. You loved that one bakery downtown, so he stood in line for an hour every single day to buy you a cake. Do you have a heart? We have treated you so well, and all I want is a grandchild. What good are you if you can’t even give me that?” She clutched her chest, her words painting me as an ungrateful monster. I grabbed my purse to leave. Just then, the little girl, Rosie, stepped toward me, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Mommy,” she whispered. A wave of revulsion washed over me. I pushed her away. Collin’s sister, Pathy, caught her before she fell. “Lily! She’s just a child! So you don’t like her birthmark, but did you have to push her?” she scolded. “Why are you taking your anger out on her? All she wants is a family. What did she do wrong by calling you ‘Mommy’?” I shot her a cold glance. “You can let her call you that.” Pathy’s face went pale, and she started stammering. “What are you talking about, Lily? This is the child you and my brother were adopting.” “And you know it’s our adoption, so why are you so involved?” My retort silenced her. She bit her lip, unable to respond. “Enough!” Collin’s voice trembled. “Honey, please, can we just talk about this in private? I’ve already told everyone we were doing this today. Just sign the papers, for me. Please. Give me that much. You can scream at me all you want when we get home.” “No,” I said flatly. “Sign the divorce papers.” I turned to walk away. Behind me, there was a heavy thud. Collin had fallen to his knees in front of everyone. 2 “Please, Lily. Just sign,” he begged, clutching at my legs, refusing to let me leave. His mother was beside herself, on the verge of fainting as she shrieked at him to get up. In all our years together, through all our fights, no matter how vicious, he had never knelt before. They say a man’s pride is in his knees, and here Collin was, sacrificing his for a child who wasn’t even ours. Collin, do you really want her that badly? I glanced over at the girl, now hiding in Pathy’s arms. So beautiful. So adorable. So much like her. A dark, humorless laugh bubbled up inside me. I bent down and, one by one, pried his fingers from my leg. “Don’t make a scene.” My coldness finally broke him. His eyes reddened, and tears streamed down his face. I looked around the room. The well-behaved child. The furious mother-in-law. The silent onlookers. And my kneeling husband. Somehow, I had become the villain in this story. The monster who would destroy a three-year marriage over a pea-sized birthmark. “My answer is the same,” I said, my voice steady. “Divorce.” Then, without a backward glance, I walked out. I went home alone and called my lawyer to draft the papers. It was late when the rest of the family finally returned, their arms laden with shopping bags filled with gifts, their voices echoing with laughter. Rosie was in the center of it all, the star of the show, being ushered in like a princess. The moment Collin walked in and saw me sitting in the living room, the smile vanished from his face. “Honey,” he started, treading carefully. “The director said Rosie could stay with us for a few days. I know you don’t like her, so don’t worry, I’ll take her back soon.” I avoided his gaze. “No need. Let her stay.” His face lit up. “Really? You’ve changed your mind?” I slapped the divorce papers down on the coffee table with a resounding thud. “Sign them.” He shook his head, his expression crumpling into one of pure desperation. “Lily, I’m sorry. If you don’t want to adopt, we won’t. Please, just don’t divorce me. I can’t live without you. Why, Lily? Why are you doing this?” His mother pulled him back. “Are you cheating on him? Is this your scheme to leave my son with no heir?” she shrieked. “Since you married into this family, have I ever mistreated you? When you couldn’t get pregnant, I never said a word, afraid I’d upset you. I’m an old woman now! All I want is a grandchild to hold, someone to call me Grandma. Is that so wrong?” She grew more and more agitated, tears streaming down her face as she accused me. Just then, Pathy, holding Rosie, walked over and suddenly knelt before me. “Lily, I know we were lucky when you married into our family,” she said, her voice trembling pitifully. “You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, a true princess, and we’re just an ordinary family. You’ve never known what it’s like to be homeless, but I have. I know what it feels like to not have a family. It’s so painful, I even thought about killing myself.” She continued, her performance worthy of an Oscar. “I just can’t bear to see her go through the same thing. I know you look down on unwanted children like us. And I know you’ve told my brother many times that you don’t like me. If you’ll just take her in, I’ll leave this house right now and never come back.” Her words were so pathetic, so heart-wrenching. I snapped. I swung my hand and slapped her hard across the face. “Don’t you know exactly why I don’t want this child?” I seethed. Collin shot to his feet. Before I could process it, the back of his hand cracked across my face. The force sent me tumbling off the sofa, my head smacking against the sharp corner of the coffee table. The world spun, a dizzying blur, and then I felt something warm and wet trickle past my eye. “Lily, I’m so sorry,” he stammered, staring at his own hand in horror. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.” He rushed to my side, trying to press his hand against the wound. I shoved him away, grabbed my purse, and headed for the door. My father-in-law’s voice boomed behind me. “You walk out that door, you’re never welcome back in this house! You’ll leave this marriage with nothing!” 3 I stumbled back to my parents’ house, exhausted and bruised. My mother gasped when she saw me, pulling me into a hug. “Honey, what happened to your face? Where’s Collin? Didn’t he come with you?” I buried my face in her shoulder, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. “Did you and Collin have a fight? What happened?” she murmured, stroking my hair as the floodgates of my misery burst open. “Mom,” I sobbed, “that child…” I told them everything. When I finished, they stared at me in stunned silence. “I can’t believe Collin is that kind of person,” my father finally roared. “How could he do something so despicable?” “Divorce him,” my mother said, her voice firm. “We don’t want a penny from that family. We don’t need their money.” My father was so furious he wanted to storm over to their house and confront them, but I held him back. The next day, I went to Collin’s office to retrieve the unsigned divorce papers. I rode the elevator to the top floor and pushed open the door to his office without knocking. Inside, he and Pathy were laughing, playing with Rosie. The moment Collin saw me, he shot to his feet. His eyes, filled with pity, went straight to the cut on my forehead. “Lily, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t thinking.” “You know how much Pathy means to our family,” he pleaded. “She’s always been the favorite. I just can’t stand to see her get hurt.” He took my hand and tried to slap himself with it. “It was my fault. I lost my head. Hit me. Do whatever you need to do to feel better.” I pulled my hand away. “I’m here for the papers,” I said, my voice flat. “What is wrong with you, Lily? What happened? Just talk to me, please.” In just two days, I felt like my entire life’s energy had been drained. “I just want a divorce. I’m tired, Collin. I don’t love you anymore.” He just shook his head, refusing to hear it. “That’s not possible. What did I do wrong? I’ll fix it, whatever it is. You’re lying. You can’t just stop loving me. If you don’t like her, we won’t adopt her. No kids, I don’t care. I just want you.” He pulled me into a crushing hug, so tight I felt like he was trying to merge my body with his. “Collin! Don’t you understand English?” I shoved him back. “I want one thing. A divorce!” I enunciated each word. “Or do you want me to start listing all the filthy things you’ve done?” His calm facade cracked. For a split second, I saw a flash of panic in his eyes. “What did I do wrong, Lily? Just tell me, and I’ll change.” Pathy cut in. “Just let her go, brother. She’s an ungrateful snake. She’s forgotten every good thing you’ve ever done for her. Her conscience has been eaten by a dog. What were you thinking, marrying a high-maintenance woman like her?” Collin spun around and slapped her. Pathy staggered back, clutching her cheek in disbelief. “Apologize to your sister-in-law,” he commanded. Pathy stubbornly turned her head away, tears welling in her eyes. “If you won’t sign,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “I’ll see you in court.” With that, I walked out of his office. As the elevator descended, I could hear people whispering behind my back, their eyes darting from me to their phones. I snatched a phone from one of them. “What are you all gossiping about?” The company group chat was buzzing with notifications. “I heard the little girl is the CEO’s daughter. He admitted it himself.” “The wife is being so unreasonable. Who even notices a birthmark that small?” “That kid is adorable. So sweet. I’d adopt her in a heartbeat. I can’t believe someone could be so cruel.” “Well, it’s her own fault she can’t have kids. Now she’s taking it out on a child. The CEO really has it rough, married to a shrew like that.” Suddenly, a message from Pathy appeared: “Anyone who spreads rumors will be fired.” The chat went silent. I sneered. So Pathy was the big boss now, was she? She’d really leveraged her position to become Collin’s executive assistant. 4 A few days later, I came home to find a mountain of trash piled outside my front door. It was everything I owned from the Hayes’ house, dumped unceremoniously on the pavement. Lying in the dirt was my favorite teddy bear, a gift from Collin. It was filthy. I stared at it for a long time before finally picking it up. It was the first gift he ever gave me. The night we made our relationship official, I’d had a sudden craving for a teddy bear. It was late, and most of the stores were closed. Collin ran nearly ten miles before he found a little shop that was still open. It was a cheap, simple bear. I had seen countless others that were more intricate, more beautiful. But for some reason, that one had captured my heart. It had become my most treasured possession. I took a picture of the scene and sent it to him. “You really know how to fake sincerity, don’t you?” I texted. It took him hours to reply. “Lily, that wasn’t me. I would never, ever do something like that!” I didn’t want to hear his excuses. I blocked his number. That evening, a torrential downpour began, raindrops hammering against the glass. The doorbell rang. I opened it to find Collin standing there, soaked to the bone. Water dripped from his clothes, and his wet hair was plastered to his forehead, his jaw clenched tight. “Get inside,” I said. I tried to pull him in, but he wouldn’t budge. “No. Not until you forgive me.” “Then stand outside,” I said, and shut the door in his face. A little while later, I checked the security camera. He was gone. I let out a bitter laugh. I was such a fool for ever believing him. The rain lasted all night. When I opened the door the next morning, he was there again. Wearing the same drenched clothes, still dripping wet. “Can you forgive me now, Lily?” he asked, his voice raw with misery. “I’ve been out here all night.” “What are you trying to pull?” Before I could say more, Pathy appeared, running toward us in a panic. She rushed to Collin’s side, helping him up. “Are you insane?” she screamed at me. “You let my brother stand in the rain all night? What kind of monster are you? Just because your body is broken, you have to make everyone else miserable? You’re disgusting!” Collin put on a show of being hurt, pretending to hold her back but not saying a single word in my defense. The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh. I was done wasting my breath on them. Pathy shoved her phone in my face. “See for yourself what a horrible person you are. My brother may tolerate you, but the rest of the world won’t put up with your princess attitude.” On the screen was a video of Rosie being interviewed by a reporter. She was recounting the story of how I had rejected her because of her birthmark, crying pitifully the entire time. The agency director was there too, confirming my cold and heartless behavior that day. The entire internet was crucifying me. “Oh my god, Rosie is so precious. How could she say those things to a child? That little girl must be so traumatized.” “She’s so young and already so mature. She almost had a home, and then this happens.” “My heart breaks for her. I didn’t even see the birthmark until she pointed it out. That woman was just looking for trouble.” Everyone was attacking me. My identity was leaked. People started throwing eggs at my family’s company building every day. The company’s stock plummeted. I was public enemy number one. Seeing the worry etched on my parents’ faces when they came home each night made me want to scream the truth from the rooftops. “Don’t worry,” I told them. “When the press conference happens, I’ll make them all pay.” On the day of the press conference, the entrance was swarmed with reporters. The moment I appeared, cameras and microphones were shoved in my face, the flashbulbs blinding me. I ignored them and walked expressionlessly to the stage. A few minutes later, Collin and his family arrived. My former in-laws looked at me with pure disgust, not even gracing me with a glance. Behind them was Pathy, holding Rosie in her arms. Good. Everyone was here. As soon as I sat down, the questions started flying. “Ms. Xu, what is your response to the recent incident at the adoption agency?” “Ms. Xu, is it true you refused to adopt Rosie because of the birthmark on her hand?” … I took the microphone. “It is true,” I said slowly, “that I refused to adopt Rosie because of the birthmark on her hand.” The room erupted. “But first,” I continued, “I have two things I want to show everyone.”

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On my eighteenth birthday, a man claiming to be my fiancé, Aiden, from ten years in the future, publicly called off our engagement. Then he pointed to Clara Jenkins, the scholarship student our family sponsors. “The person you truly love is her,” he told his younger self. “A decade from now, you’ll divorce Bekah for her. Instead of letting it all end in a bitter wreckage then, it’s better to cut it off at the source.” “Clara has this cool, untouchable pride. She’s beautiful, fiercely independent… in a way Bekah could never be. The man you’ll become is completely captivated by her.” The eighteen-year-old Aiden I knew grabbed the man’s collar and snarled, “You’re insane.” But later, when we were supposed to be planning our applications to study abroad, he hesitated. He lost his application form nine times. The tenth time it happened, I didn’t call him on his lie. Instead, I called Aiden’s older brother, Herman. “The alliance between our families has to continue,” I said. “Are you up for it?” 1 The application deadline was looming. Aiden came to find me again. He stood at my gate, guilt written all over his face. “Bekah… I lost the application form again.” The tenth time. Just as I expected. I looked at the boy in front of me, the boy I had known my whole life. This time, I didn’t tell him to go back to his advisor and ask for another form. I just waited for him to make a choice. My silence seemed to unnerve him. Thinking I was angry, he slumped to the ground in frustration. “Something goes wrong every single time. It’s not my fault. Fate must be messing with me. I guess I’m just not meant to study abroad.” He looked up at me, his voice softening. “Bekah, what if… what if we just stay here in Westwood? We don’t have to go.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He was nervous. A cold, bitter laugh rose in my chest. The reason Aiden didn’t want to leave was simple: Clara couldn’t. After she started college, she had insisted on ending our family’s financial support. I remembered her words to my parents, her voice ringing with earnest pride. “I will never forget your kindness. I will work hard and repay every penny you’ve given me.” Her only path was to finish her degree and get a job. Aiden, upon learning this, had met with her secretly. He’d offered her a credit card, telling her she could come abroad with us, that he would take on the debt she felt she owed my family. But Clara, with that famous pride of hers, had refused him flatly. “I may be poor, but I don’t take just any money,” she’d said. “If I took this from you, what would that make me? Some little bird you keep in a gilded cage?” Then she had turned and walked away. Aiden’s initial goal was just to prove his future self wrong, to show that anyone would bow to the power of money. But Clara’s rejection had shaken him. He started to believe what the other Aiden had told him. That night, for the first time in ten years, Aiden lied to me. 【Babe, I lost my application.】 【Deadline’s still a ways off. I’ll turn it in later.】 I didn’t reply. The future Aiden had found me and told me everything about their meeting, sparing no detail. He stared at the text on my phone screen, a triumphant smirk on his face. “You see? It doesn’t matter if it’s the me of today or the me of the future. The moment we meet Clara, we’re drawn to her.” “She’s brilliant. She’s not like you.” “You’re a pampered princess, waiting for your inheritance. But Clara is destined for greatness, destined to build her own empire from nothing.” He spoke of her as if she were a rare jewel, the only one he’d ever found. But he seemed to forget. If my father hadn’t been scouting a project in the mountains and found Clara being forced into an arranged marriage, if he hadn’t called the police and brought her back to Westwood, sponsored her education… who the hell would Clara be? She wouldn’t have even finished high school, let alone college. She’d probably be a mother of three by now. So what gave Aiden the right to compare us? “Bekah, want to make a bet?” that future Aiden had asked me that day. “I bet you he won’t go abroad with you.” “Ten times,” I’d replied. I don’t remember why I agreed. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was a flicker of hope. Ten years of our lives together. Ten chances seemed fair. I just never imagined he would burn through all ten of them in a single month. 2 The second time he told me he’d lost the form, my best friend, Mia, was dragging me to the pool club. We saw Aiden sitting by the water’s edge, staring blankly at the thin application sheet in his hands. Mia started to wave, but I stopped her. A second later, the future Aiden appeared, snatched the paper from his younger self’s hand, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the pool. “Aiden, when you start hesitating, you’ve already chosen her, haven’t you?” he demanded. Aiden’s brow furrowed. Without a word, he dove into the water to retrieve the now-ruined form. “No,” he sputtered, surfacing. “I haven’t chosen her. I love Bekah. I’ve always loved Bekah.” Mia nudged me, whispering, “See? Your boy really loves you.” I smiled but said nothing. This time, I agreed with the older Aiden. Hesitation was an answer in itself. The third time, it was in the university cafeteria. Aiden had the form out on the table between us, pretending to fill it out, but his eyes kept darting to Clara, who was sitting a few tables away. As Clara stood to leave, she stumbled with a small cry. In a flash, Aiden was on his feet. His hand shot out, steadying her by the waist. In the process, he knocked a bowl of soup all over our table, soaking the application. Clara blushed and thanked him. Aiden complained about the ruined form, but there was no real anger in his voice. The fourth time, we ran into Clara on the way home. A couple of shady guys were harassing her. Before I could stop him, Aiden charged in, throwing the textbook he was carrying at them to chase them off. The application, tucked inside the book, fluttered to the wet pavement. He stepped on it without a second thought, grinding it into the mud. Just like our relationship. … And the tenth time was today. We were at the movies. Halfway through, he got a text from Clara. “Just going to the restroom,” he whispered. He never came back. I sat through the rest of the two-hour film by myself. And I finally made my decision. I didn’t want a love that wavered. So, when Aiden showed up at my gate, of course, the form was “lost” again. “Bekah, talk to me.” Aiden’s voice pulled me back to the present. I paused, then gave him a calm nod. “Do whatever you want.” He visibly relaxed, a smile breaking across his face. He pointed to a faint bruise on his cheek, his voice turning into a playful whine. “Babe, it hurts. Kiss it better?” I frowned, about to say something, when his phone rang. The ringtone was a woman’s voice, singing softly. It sounded eerily like Clara. My heart stuttered. “Cute, right? Clara recorded it for me herself,” he said, noticing my expression. “A thank you for saving her the other day.” A custom ringtone. Recorded just for him. For a moment, I wondered if Clara was really as innocent as she seemed. He answered the call. Her cool voice came through the speaker. “Aiden? I think someone’s following me home. I don’t know if it’s those guys from before. I’ve already called the police, but… can you come meet me at the station?” Aiden’s eyes flickered towards me. He hesitated for only a second. “Okay. I’m on my way. Wait for me there.” He hung up and started to stammer out an explanation, but I cut him off with a smile. “Shouldn’t you get going?” “Right. Uh… babe, I’ll pick you up for class tomorrow?” “Sure.” Reassured, he clutched his phone and hurried away. I watched him go, a silent, hollow laugh forming on my lips. Then I took out my own phone. I called Aiden’s older brother, Herman. There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Herman’s deep, slightly raspy voice came through. “Don’t you love Aiden?” I smiled, my voice light. “I did. But I won’t let myself be a consolation prize.” “Herman, the alliance between our families has to continue. Are you up for it?” Another silence stretched between us. Just as I was about to hang up, I heard his voice, low and intense, as if he was holding something back. “Once you choose me, Bekah, there’s no turning back. Are you sure?” 3 My study abroad application was already submitted. Herman scheduled our engagement party for two weeks from now. Coincidentally, that’s also when he’s heading to New York to expand his company’s market share. He expects to be there for three years. Our timelines overlap perfectly. After I hung up the phone, the future Aiden materialized in front of me again, as if from thin air. “Who were you talking to?” I ignored him and turned to go inside, but he blocked the door. “Bekah—” “Don’t worry,” I cut him off, my patience gone. “It wasn’t Aiden. He’s probably with Clara right now.” He seemed surprised, raising an eyebrow. “Well, look at you. The eighteen-year-old version is a lot quicker on the uptake.” The two Aidens didn’t look that different, but this one carried himself with a colder, more polished air. He was more mature, more jaded. “What about the twenty-eight-year-old me?” I asked, unable to stop myself. He frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “A shrew, basically. If it weren’t for our families, for our history… I have a hundred ways to make a divorce go my way.” “Plenty of men in our circle have mistresses. But no, Bekah had to make my life hell. For what? If she had just been willing to look the other way, I wouldn’t have—” He reached into his pocket, a familiar gesture. My father did the same thing when he was stressed, searching for a cigarette. He found nothing and sighed. “I regret it, you know. Getting married when I was too young to understand love, and then meeting the right person when I was no longer free.” “Bekah, we grew up together, yes. But that doesn’t mean we had to get married. Was it worth turning yourself into a crazy person?” Crazy. The word was a punch to the gut. A sharp, painful spasm seized my heart. I didn’t know if I was hurting for my future self or for the me standing here now. The Aiden I knew would get into a fistfight if someone said a single bad word about me. But the man he would become used the word “crazy” to describe me. Ten years. Time really does show you who a person is. Finally, I took a deep breath. “Don’t worry. This time, I’ll let you and Clara have your happy ending.” He looked at me with suspicion. “You’d better not be lying to me.” I didn’t see the future Aiden for the next three days. The current Aiden, however, was practically glued to Clara’s side. Maybe it was the novelty, or maybe he’d fully bought into his future self’s prophecy. The breaking point came at Mia’s birthday picnic. When I got out of the car, I was surprised to see Clara there. She was wearing a simple white dress and a backpack, clutching an economics textbook that seemed oddly out of place. It felt like every time I saw her, she was holding that book. Mia followed my gaze and immediately started looking for someone to blame. “Who the hell invited her?” A girl sheepishly raised her hand. “I… I ran into her on the way here. I was just being polite, I didn’t think she’d actually come… My bad.” Mia looked at me. Everyone knew about Aiden and Clara lately. “Bekah? What do you want to do?” I gave her a weary smile and patted her shoulder. “Today is your day. Your happiness is all that matters, okay?” “That’s my girl. Always classy.” But we hadn’t counted on Clara being so determined to be difficult. While the rest of us were playing games and sharing food, Clara sat on a folding stool twenty feet away, by herself. Mia, trying to be nice, brought her a plate of food and invited her to join us. Clara’s response was loud and self-righteous. “I didn’t buy you a gift or chip in for the food, so I can’t take advantage of your generosity.”

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I was working three jobs a day, all to buy my boyfriend a hearing aid. When my stepbrother, Rick, found out, his gaze turned dark. “Killing yourself working for some guy? Are you planning on moving in with him?” I shot back a cold laugh. “None of your business.” Later, I overheard my boyfriend talking to his roommate. “Faking being deaf is a hilarious way to mess with that idiot. Who gives a shit about the pocket change he makes?” “Yeah, he’s definitely pretty, but I’m not even into guys.” The room erupted in laughter. Someone asked him, “What if Evan finds out?” Liam answered, a lazy drawl in his voice. “He won’t. And even if he does, I’ll just sweet-talk him a little.” “Besides, this ear of mine? I lost my hearing saving his ass. A few nice words and he’ll melt.” Turns out, I was the only idiot. I tried to leave, but my stepbrother grabbed me by the throat and crushed his lips against mine. My voice trembled as I demanded, “…What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was a low growl. “I’m thinking about having you.” 1 I stood frozen outside Liam’s dorm room, my hand hovering in the air, a knock dying before it was ever made. The voices inside continued, sharp and clear. “It’s just for fun, faking the deaf thing to mess with the moron.” “Besides, being with a guy? Not exactly my thing.” A sudden burst of laughter echoed from the room. After it died down, someone else piped up. “What if Evan finds out?” I heard the flick of a lighter, then Liam’s voice, nonchalant and coated in smoke. “He won’t. And even if he does, a little sweet-talking is all it takes. This ear of mine? I lost my hearing saving his ass, remember? A few apologies and he’ll be eating out of my hand.” Liam’s ear. He’d been deafened in a fight, shielding me from a couple of guys who had it out for me. The guilt had been eating me alive, a debt I felt I had to repay. That’s why I’d been working myself to the bone, taking every shift I could get. I’d lost over fifteen pounds in a month, all to save up for the best hearing aid money could buy. I never imagined I was the only fool in this story. And now, the money was finally saved up. But Liam’s deafness was a lie. His poverty was a lie. He’d been playing me like a fiddle. “Seriously, Liam,” another voice chimed in, “if you’re not into guys, why’d you even get with him? I mean, the kid’s got that pretty-boy look, sure, but the second I remember he’s a dude, I go limp.” “Is being gay really that much fun?” Liam’s laugh was a low rumble. “Oh, it’s a blast. Haven’t you guys noticed how ridiculously obedient Evan is?” His roommates howled with laughter. “That’s just ‘cause you’ve got him trained, man! Hey, didn’t you ask him to move in with you last week? He shot you down, right?” He had. Last week, Liam had suddenly brought up the idea of getting a place together. I wasn’t ready, so I said no. He’d been pissed, giving me the silent treatment for three whole days before I could coax him back to normal. At the mention of it, Liam took a long drag from his cigarette. “Yeah,” he grunted, his voice muffled. “Said he wasn’t ready.” 2 Someone snickered. “You’re looking at it all wrong, man. Guys like that play hard to get. They’re all about the chase. Just keep asking. He’ll crack eventually.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Like hell I will. I kicked the door open. The room fell silent in an instant. Liam, a cigarette still dangling from his lips, froze when he saw me. The guy who’d been mocking me was the first to recover, plastering a grin on his face. “Evan! Hey, man. Here to see Liam? You two are inseparable.” Liam finally snapped out of it. He stubbed out his cigarette and softened his voice into that familiar, gentle tone. “What’s up? I wasn’t expecting you.” I took the wad of cash from my pocket and slammed it into his face. Then, I balled my fist and swung. Liam stumbled back, stunned. His two roommates just stared, their jaws hanging open. They never thought I’d be the one to throw a punch. “Evan, what the fuck is wrong with you?” the one closest to Liam yelled. I ignored him, my eyes locked on Liam. I might be skinny, but I’m still a guy. My punch had connected hard. Liam staggered, clutching his cheek, his eyes wide with disbelief. I let out a soft, sharp laugh. “Must’ve been so hard for you, Liam. Faking deafness just to play with an idiot like me.” “You can stop pretending now.” Liam’s face went pale. He opened his mouth to explain, but no words came out. His eyes darted to the cash scattered across the floor. “Consider this your compensation,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “After all, I know being with a guy must’ve been such a drag.” “You poor thing.” 3 Liam must have thought he could smooth this over like every other time. He didn’t expect me to block his number, his social media, everything. That must have bruised his ego, because he didn’t try to reach out again. Usually, whenever we fought, I was the one who caved first. This time, he was waiting for me to come crawling back, ready to apologize and make things right. Ready for us to go back to how things were. He was dead wrong. My heart had turned to stone. I wasn’t going to fix this. After a week of silence, Liam finally broke. He showed up at my dorm, only to be told by my roommate that I’d already moved out. He looked completely floored. Since I wouldn’t seek him out, he cornered me instead. The campus diner was packed when he blocked my path. “Move,” I said, my voice flat. Liam just stared at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. After a long moment, he finally stepped aside. I found a table and had barely taken two bites of my food when he sat down across from me. “Evan, I know what I did was wrong, okay? I screwed up, and I’ve already apologized. What more do you want from me?” He was so used to being the pampered prince in our relationship, the one I always coddled. He actually thought a couple of half-assed texts counted as a sincere apology. I looked up, a mocking smile playing on my lips. “Liam, do you really think we’re just having a fight?” He flinched. He thought this was just about the lie. He thought I was just mad, and that all it would take was a little coaxing to win me back. He thought I was easy because I’d always felt guilty, because my heart ached for him. And he was right. In the past, no matter how angry I was, I would have swallowed it down and just said, “Don’t make me mad like that again.” But now, under his pleading gaze, I spelled it out for him, each word a hammer blow. “We’re broken up, you asshole.” 4 Liam and I first met in middle school. I never expected to run into him again at the same university, in the same major. The day he saw me in class, he had to rub his eyes a few times, like he couldn’t believe it was me. Back in middle school, I was an easy target. My looks were… delicate, which made me an outcast. I barely spoke to anyone, an introvert pushed to the extreme. I remember someone once called me an “autistic orphan.” After graduation, my mom and I moved away to a different city for my high school years. Seeing me again, Liam acted like he’d found a long-lost friend. He came up to me, eager to talk. Whenever he brought up our middle school days, he’d get this embarrassed look on his face. “Hey, Evan… I was a real jerk back then. Sorry about that.” I never understood what he was apologizing for. He wasn’t one of the kids who had bullied me. As we got to know each other again, he started hanging out in my dorm room all the time. One afternoon, my roommates were all out, so I decided to watch a gay film on my laptop. I didn’t hear him come in. When our eyes met, he froze, looking incredibly awkward. “You’re… uh… into guys?” he stammered out. He must have thought he’d been too blunt, because he quickly tried to backtrack. “I mean, not a lot of people watch these kinds of movies, so…” I didn’t see the point in hiding it. “Yeah, I like men.” “Oh,” he said. He didn’t say another word. As he left, he accidentally walked straight into the door. 5 Liam avoided me for a whole month after that. When he finally worked up the nerve to talk to me again, he was incredibly awkward. “It’s not a big deal, you know. Liking guys. It’s all the same,” was the first thing he said, as if he were trying to comfort me. But what was there to be comforted about? Liking men wasn’t some disease. I didn’t owe anyone an explanation. I still don’t. That dinner was doomed from the start. I lost my appetite completely. When I left, Liam followed me. He kept his distance, but he was there. By the time I reached the campus gates, he jogged to catch up. “Why did you suddenly move out?” he asked. From this angle, I could see the small, faded scar on his right ear. It was from before we were together. I’d gotten into a minor scuffle with some guys. They weren’t happy about it and decided to ambush me on my way home to teach me a lesson. Liam had shown up just as they had me pinned to the ground. He’d gone ballistic, throwing himself into the fray. But it was one against many. He was outnumbered and got roughed up badly. When one of them landed a hard blow to his right ear, blood instantly started pouring out. The sight of him on the ground, bleeding, scared them off. They only wanted to rough me up, not kill someone. They ran. And that’s when Liam went deaf. Total silence. Now, seeing that accusatory look in his eyes, I took a step back, putting space between us. “It has nothing to do with you.” 6 When I got back to my apartment, someone was sitting in the living room. My… stepbrother. Rick was still in his work clothes, a tailored suit that looked completely out of place in my tiny, rundown apartment. He’d obviously come straight from the office. I frowned slightly. “What are you doing here?” His calm eyes met mine, unreadable as always. He placed the book he’d been leafing through back on the coffee table and gave me a slow, deliberate once-over. “You’ve lost weight.” He hadn’t answered my question. I dropped my backpack by the door. He handed me a glass of water, and I drank it down. Only then did he speak again. “I came to check on you.” I looked down, sinking onto the worn-out sofa. “There’s nothing to see.” Silence fell between us, punctuated only by the chirping of crickets outside the thin walls. He didn’t belong here; he was like a marble statue in a scrapyard. “I bought you an apartment near campus. You can move in this weekend.” I finally noticed the set of keys sitting on the table. My gaze lingered on them for a moment before I looked away. “No, thanks. I’m fine here.” “You’re moving,” he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. I lifted my head and met his gaze, my own hardening. “I said,” I enunciated each word, “I don’t want to.” 7 “Why?” I didn’t want to owe his family anything. I didn’t want to take Rick’s money. I didn’t want to be indebted to them in any way. Most of all, I didn’t want to hear the whispers about how my mom had remarried into wealth, bringing her “baggage” along to fight over the inheritance. That’s why I paid for my own tuition, my own living expenses. Every cent they ever offered me, I returned untouched. My throat felt tight. Before I could figure out what to say, Rick’s voice cut through the silence, unnervingly calm. “Is it because of that boy? Working three jobs a day for him, and now you’ve moved out of the dorm. Are you planning on living with him?” His eyes were locked on me. And beneath that placid surface, I could sense something else—a flicker of an emotion I couldn’t quite name. I looked away, unable to meet his stare. “…It’s none of your business.” My relationship with Rick wasn’t exactly warm. We weren’t close, but we weren’t enemies either. We just… coexisted. He didn’t press the issue. But then a thought struck me, and I frowned again. “How do you know all that? Are you spying on me?!” A faint smile touched Rick’s lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Do I need to?” He was right. Someone like me, the stepson, the outsider—every little thing I did was fodder for gossip. Working part-time jobs would be headline news. The world of the rich was suffocating. So he knew. I didn’t care anymore. “What, are you afraid I’ll embarrass the family name?” The words were sharper than I’d intended, but I couldn’t take them back. When Rick left, the keys to the apartment were still on the table. I stared at them for a long time before finally sweeping them into a drawer and shutting it tight. 8 Now that Liam was out of the picture, I didn’t need to work myself into the ground anymore. Suddenly, I had time on my hands. Liam, however, wasn’t giving up. He tried to talk to me again and again, but it was useless. I had no interest in hearing him out. He was sticking to me like glue. “…Evan, why are you avoiding me?” he asked, blocking my path again. His persistence was grating. “I know I messed up that day… I’m sorry. But you have to at least give me a chance to explain.” Oh, wonderful. The great Liam was gracing me with an apology. Jesus. How had I never realized what a complete tool he was? Or maybe breaking up with someone just gives you a superpower for seeing them for the jackass they truly are. I looked him up and down and couldn’t stop a sneer from escaping. “Liam, people get a chance to explain. Dogs don’t.” He gritted his teeth. “Evan, that’s not fair…” My gaze turned to ice. “Fair? You think this is about fairness? That I’m being unfair by not letting you explain? Liam, do you honestly see yourself as the main character in some drama?” “Watching me work my ass off for your ‘deaf’ ear, putting up with creepy customers just to buy you that hearing aid… did that give you a thrill? Did it feed your ego?” “Seeing me suffer for you, treating you like gold… did it make you feel like I was so desperately in love with you?” “And then talking shit about me behind my back, bragging about how you were just ‘playing’ with me… did that make you feel like a big man?” “Liam, you’re a fucking joke.” With every word I spoke, the color drained from his face. When I finished, he just stood there, speechless. Finally, he choked out two words. “I’m sorry.” Sorry wasn’t going to cut it. I scoffed. A car parked by the curb honked twice. I glanced over instinctively and saw Rick’s stoic face behind the wheel. My heart skipped a beat as he got out and started walking toward me. You’ve got to be kidding me. Is he here to drag me home? “Evan.” Rick stopped beside me. “What took you so long today?” Liam’s eyes were darting back and forth between us, sizing Rick up. I glanced at Liam, and an idea sparked. I decided to play along. “Class ran late.” “I see,” Rick said, his gaze shifting to Liam. He gestured slightly. “And this is…?” Liam seemed to snap out of his daze. Before I could say anything, he blurted out, cutting Rick off. “I’m his boyfriend!” 9 The words hung in the air. Rick turned to me, his voice a low murmur as he repeated, “Boyfriend?” I was so done. This idiot. Under Rick’s intense stare, I forced out a single word. “No.” Seeing me deny it, Liam panicked. He reached for my arm, but I sidestepped him. “Evan, I never agreed to break up! How can you say that?” Liam pleaded, his voice cracking. “We just had a fight! That’s not a breakup!” He really thought he had me on a leash. How did I ever fall for this guy? I stared Liam down while Rick stood beside me, the silent, imposing third party in this pathetic scene. God, this was all so exhausting. Played for a fool, and now haunted by this parasite. My eyes flickered to Rick. Then, I made up my mind. I reached out and took his hand. Rick’s hand went rigid in mine. Liam’s jaw dropped. A triumphant smile spread across my face. “Sorry about that. I’ve got a new boyfriend now.” I paused, letting my eyes rake over Liam from head to toe, finally landing on his dumbstruck face. “I just don’t have a taste for… actors.” “So if you keep bothering me, don’t blame me for what happens next.” With that, I flashed Rick a brilliant smile and pulled him toward his car. The few steps to the car door felt like an eternity, my palm growing hot against his. Rick’s expression was unreadable, but his voice was a low rumble when he spoke. “Evan, you continue to surprise me.” My grip on his hand tightened, but I forced myself to sound casual. “What do you mean?” “Nothing,” he said. Liam’s burning stare followed us all the way. I didn’t let go of Rick’s hand until we were both inside the car. Once we drove away, and it was just the two of us, the weight of what I’d just done crashed down on me. What if Rick was disgusted by holding a guy’s hand? What if I’d just crossed a massive line? The thought was mortifying. 10 I risked a sideways glance at Rick. He was focused on the road, his expression impassive as he drove. The silence was deafening. I had to say something. “So… what brings you out here to pick me up?” Two words. That’s all I got. “Dinner.” Right. Great conversation. I decided it was better to just shut up. After a painfully quiet dinner, he drove me back to my tiny apartment. As usual, he frowned at the sight of the dilapidated building. Rick, who’d had the best of everything his entire life—the best schools, the best homes, never a worry about money—of course he’d find this place pathetic. But he was too well-mannered to say it out loud. He walked me to my door but didn’t linger. He just told me to get some rest and left. That was surprisingly… normal. I took a shower, and when I came out, my phone was buzzing nonstop. It was the group chat with my old dorm mates. Apparently, Liam had gotten drunk and stormed into our old room, screaming my name. They couldn’t get him to leave. He was just sitting at my old desk, staring into space. I typed back a quick reply. “Just throw him out. Don’t worry about being nice about it.” My roommates knew I was dating Liam. My sexuality wasn’t a secret. A moment later, my phone buzzed again. “Don’t worry, we tossed him out.” “Okay, thanks,” I replied. Then, a message popped up from one of Liam’s roommates. It was Mark, the one who’d laughed the loudest that day. The guy was a master of being two-faced—all smiles and buddy-buddy to my face, but I knew he was disgusted by me behind my back. I didn’t even bother reading it. I just blocked him.

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When I was ten, for my sister’s birthday, she wanted a porcelain doll. My father said, “Go on, slap your sister, and I’ll buy it for you.” And so, I took a hard slap across the face. When I was seventeen, my father sent my sister to study abroad but refused to pay for my college. I begged him for days. He threw fifty dollars at me. “I don’t owe you a damn thing, Elara.” When I was twenty-seven, my sister returned from overseas, took a liking to my husband, and began to subtly, and not-so-subtly, flirt with him. My father sneered at me. “If you can’t keep a man, that’s your own failure.” Yes, they all preferred my sister, Rosalie. The one with the fancy degree and the sweet-talking tongue. Even my own son. On his fifth birthday, my son, Leo, wanted to go to the amusement park, but not with me. He said I was too bossy. My husband, David, joked with him. “Go give Mommy a slap. If she gets mad, she won’t go. Then we can go with your Auntie Rosalie.” And my son really did walk over and slap me. The sound was sharp and loud. I just stood there, stunned. Until my son’s voice piped up again, “Daddy, is she mad now? Can I go to the amusement park with Auntie Rosalie?” 1 David took our son to the amusement park without telling me. When they came back, Leo was holding a small, cheap-looking stuffed toy. He held it out to me timidly, not saying a word. His eyes, however, kept darting toward David. As if to say: I did what you said to make her happy. Why is she still ignoring me? I was in the dining room, packaging the desserts I had just finished baking. David walked in and saw the scene, his brow furrowing in disapproval. “Elara, are you really going to stay mad at your own son this long over a joke?” He ruffled Leo’s hair. “He was thinking about you the whole time we were at the park today, and this is the look you give him?” I glanced down at the crudely made, cheap toy in Leo’s hands. On my phone, which was sitting on the table, was a message from my sister, Rosalie, sent just before they’d walked in: [Are you seriously jealous of me over Leo again? Why have you always had to turn everything into a competition with me, ever since we were kids?] [But I won’t hold it against you. We saw one of those scan-a-code-win-a-prize things at the park, so I had David get one for you. Just take it and get over it, okay?] David took the toy from Leo and pushed it toward me. “Elara, don’t be childish in front of him.” I sealed the last bag of cookies and finally looked up at David. “I’m not angry.” I took out a small cookie and offered it to Leo. “Help Mommy taste-test this, okay?” Leo looked at the rabbit-shaped cookie. “Mommy, you used to only make the little bear cookies I like.” “Oh. I got tired of those. Wanted to try something new.” I started for the door. David called after me, “Where are you going this late?” “I have some things to take care of.” I put on my shoes, not bothering to give him the usual detailed report of my whereabouts. I just told Leo, “Remember to brush your teeth after your dessert. Mommy won’t be here to tuck you in tonight.” 2 David texted me: [When are you coming home?] I pressed the button, and the screen went dark. I looked at my best friend, who was sampling my latest creation. “So? What’s the verdict?” Sadie took a delicate bite, her eyes widening in amazement. “Honey, I’ve been telling you for years we should open a dessert shop together. I am so, so happy you’ve finally come around.” She looked at me with a warmth that was both proud and relieved. “I was honestly starting to think you were going to be a housewife for the rest of your life.” “But,” she added, “my shop is in the next city over. Are you sure you can bear to be away from Leo?” I didn’t answer her question. My mind drifted back to the events of the day. Leo’s fifth birthday. I had woken up at dawn to prepare. I’d cooked a whole table of his favorite foods. Even the decoration on the cake—his beloved Spider-Man—was something I had painstakingly carved out of chocolate, detail by detail. But Leo hadn’t even glanced at it. He was used to my cooking. No matter how creative or delicious, it could never compete with the allure of fried chicken and soda from a fast-food joint. So he’d just given the table a cursory look and turned to David. “Daddy, it’s my birthday. Can Auntie Rosalie take me to the amusement park? I don’t want Mom’s food. I’m so sick of it!” And that’s when David had said it—”Go give Mommy a slap…” … How could I even begin to explain all this to Sadie? I had chosen my husband. My son was my own flesh and blood. Complaining about it felt pointless and self-pitying. I just looked at Sadie and sighed softly. “People really do change. I used to think all I ever wanted was a family of my own, that a husband and child were my destiny. When you told me a career was a woman’s real foundation, I didn’t agree. I even tried to convince you to get married.” “Sadie,” I said, my voice thick with emotion, “thank you for not holding that against me. And for still being willing to give me a chance.” Sadie looked at me, our decade-long friendship a silent language between us. She understood the words I couldn’t say. She squeezed my hand. “As long as you’re willing to change, it’s never too late.” 3 It was past nine by the time I finished talking business with Sadie. When I got home, I found my sister, Rosalie, sitting on the sofa with David. She was dressed in something light and revealing, and they were sitting very close together. When he saw me, a flicker of panic crossed David’s eyes. But it was quickly replaced by irritation. In the past, the mere sight of him with Rosalie would have sent me into a hysterical fit, making everyone miserable. So, out of habit, he immediately went on the defensive. “What are you thinking now? Leo wouldn’t go to sleep without someone comforting him, so I asked your sister to come over…” “Oh. Is he asleep now?” I cut him off. No accusations. No arguments. No temper tantrum. My calm unnerved him. He opened his mouth, then closed it, finally mumbling a sullen, “Just fell asleep.” “Good. I’m going to go wash up.” I started to walk past them. The annoyance on David’s face deepened. He suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Elara, I told you, your sister and I…” “Did I ask you anything?” I looked at him, genuinely confused. Why was he getting angry when I wasn’t even questioning him? Suddenly, Rosalie let out a sharp cry. David’s attention snapped back to her. “Rosalie, maybe you should head home.” Rosalie looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. “David, I think I twisted my ankle. Can you give me a ride?” David glanced back at me, checking my reaction. I pulled my hand from his grasp. “It’s late. It’s not safe for her to go home alone. You should take her.” David stared at me, his eyes searching my face. “Elara, you…” “What about me?” His brow, which had been tightly furrowed, slowly relaxed. “I’m glad you can be so understanding. It was my idea to have her come over, so I should be responsible for getting her home safely. But don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” “Oh, it’s fine,” I said, not wanting to drag out the conversation. “I’m tired. If there’s nothing else, I’m going to bed.” 4 David said he’d be right back, but a quick glance at Rosalie’s Instagram stories showed the two of them at a bar. Rosalie was dancing wildly. David was right there by her side, never straying. A deep exhaustion washed over me. I muted Rosalie’s account. Just then, Leo shuffled into the room, clutching his new toy, his eyes heavy with sleep. “Mommy, aren’t you sleeping with me tonight?” “No, sweetheart. Mommy is going to sleep in the guest room.” I looked at my reflection in the vanity mirror. At the faint handprint on my cheek that even makeup couldn’t completely hide. Sadie had been heartbroken when she saw it. But I hadn’t heard a single sincere apology from my husband or my son. They were acting as if nothing had happened. Leo’s lip jutted out. “Mommy, if you don’t sleep with me, then I’m not letting you take me to school tomorrow! And I won’t eat your food either!” Leo had night blindness; he’d been afraid of the dark since he was a baby. I met his angry gaze in the mirror. “Leo, if you’re so afraid of the dark, why don’t you ask your father to stay with you?” “Daddy has to work. You don’t do anything all day but spend Daddy’s money. Isn’t it your job to put me to sleep?” “So, if I stop spending Daddy’s money, does that mean I don’t have to put you to sleep anymore?” Leo let out a cold sneer, his tone a perfect imitation of his father’s. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mom. You’re not smart and successful like Auntie Rosalie. If you didn’t spend Dad’s money, where would you get any? From Grandpa? But even Grandpa says you’re the most useless person in the family!” 5 I had heard words like these my entire life. I wasn’t as brilliant as Rosalie. I wasn’t as educated as Rosalie. All the best things were meant for Rosalie. It was like our names themselves were a prophecy. She was Rosalie, the bloom. I was Elara, the block of wood. I was used to it. Numb to it. But I had never, ever imagined that one day, I would hear those same words from the mouth of the son I had carried for nine months, the son I had risked my life to bring into this world. My hands trembled. An icy chill shot up from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. I felt rage, and a deep, wounded sorrow. And then, all emotion receded, leaving behind a dead, still pool, incapable of even a ripple. I spoke to Leo softly. “Fine. Then make sure you get up early tomorrow. Mommy won’t be making you breakfast.” 6 I didn’t have to make breakfast for Leo. I didn’t feel the familiar pang of sadness over David once again staying out all night. I slept soundly. At five in the morning, I got up and packed a few essentials. As I dragged my suitcase out the door, Leo was still fast asleep, long past the time he should have been getting up for school. I took one last look at the home I had so carefully nurtured for so long. The clean clothes I had washed were drying on the balcony. The ivy I had tended to was thriving, its vines sprawling beautifully. The potted plants were lush and green. Except for a few cigarette butts that David had carelessly stubbed out in the soil of the succulents. We had fought about him doing that so many times. He never listened. And Leo had learned from his example. When he was bored, he liked to pull the leaves off my plants, leaving the once-healthy greenery tattered and torn. Getting angry at them had never worked. Looking at them now, I realized those plants were just like me. Objects to be treated with casual indifference. I stood there for a long time. I knew I would never come back here. And I knew that David and Leo would never be able to take care of them. After a long silence, I sent a message to my neighbor, who also loved gardening: [If you wouldn’t mind, could I give you all my plants? I’d love for them to have a good home.] 7 Nine hours later, the plane landed in Ardencroft. I turned on my phone. Dozens of missed calls and messages. All from David. [Where are you?] [What kind of mother are you? Leo was late for school, don’t you care?] [Elara, are you seriously still sulking about me and your sister? Are you insane? She’s your sister, what do you think is going to happen?] [How old are you, running away like this? You’re not even answering your father’s calls?] [Hah. No wonder your own father can’t stand you.] [You’ll just never be as good as your sister, Rosalie.] … I stared at the messages. My emotions, which I thought were long dead, stirred with a faint ripple of pain. Those ripples grew sharp barbs, clawing their way into my limbs, my heart beginning to ache with a thousand tiny pinpricks. I called him back. David’s voice was hoarse from a hangover. “Are you still mad about yesterday? It was a joke, and now you’re abandoning your son over it?” “David,” I said, my voice heavy with exhaustion, “it’s only a joke if the other person finds it funny. If someone slapped you, would you be laughing?” David was silent. I continued softly, “I’m going to be very busy for a while. You’ll have to take care of Leo.” 8 I said I was leaving Leo in David’s care. But after a long day of setting up the new dessert shop, I still couldn’t shake the worry. That night, I carefully typed out a long list of instructions and sent it to him. I reminded him: [Leo’s water bottle needs fresh water every day. Make sure he remembers to drink it at school.] David sent back a video. My fingers froze over the keyboard. I opened it. It was Rosalie, treating Leo to KFC. Leo was gnawing on a burger. “Auntie Rosalie, who cares if Mom doesn’t come back? I think you’d be a way better mom for me.” Rosalie glanced shyly at David, who was filming. “Don’t say things like that, sweetie. Your dad has to agree first.” The video ended. David texted: [Elara, do you regret it? Are you sad? What stupid business of yours is so important? See? You’ve been gone for one day, and your son has already replaced you.] Slowly, character by character, I deleted the long message I had been typing. I replied: [If one day can erase years of my devotion, then it’s my failure as a mother for not teaching him gratitude. And it is your failure as a father to not only allow it, but to revel in being fought over by two women. David, I think it’s time I seriously reconsidered our relationship.] 9 Was I sad? Ever since Rosalie had returned and slowly inserted herself into our lives, yes, I had been sad. I had been hysterical. I had screamed and fought. Countless times, I had acted like a madwoman, clinging to Leo at night, obsessively asking him why he liked Rosalie more than me. It got so bad that Leo refused to let me take him to school. He’d sling his backpack over his shoulder, his cold eyes a perfect mirror of his father’s, and ask me, “Mom, is there anything about you that’s actually impressive?” I had lived a barren, deprived life. I thought that by having David and Leo, my life would finally blossom. So I gave everything. I held nothing back. I thought that if I just kept giving, I would eventually earn the love I so desperately craved. That my life, like a flower, would one day bloom. But in the end, I discovered the truth. I planted flowers for the moon, and I scattered stars upon the sea. But the moon buried me, and the sea swallowed me whole. The only salvation in this life is to love yourself, fiercely and without apology. 10 I stopped paying attention to anything related to David and Leo. I poured all my time, all my energy, into the dessert shop I opened with Sadie. She provided the capital; I provided the skill. I was busy from sunup to sundown. A month later, David showed up at the shop. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, completely out of place in the shop’s whimsical, pastel-pink decor. When he saw me, his handsome face was etched with its usual frown. “You abandoned your home for a month for this little shop?” I tried my best to remain calm. “Is there something you need?” He was clearly dissatisfied with my tone. His frown deepened. “You’re my wife. Do I need a reason to come see you?” A sarcastic smile touched my lips. A whole month, and he was only just now remembering to find me? Was I just unimportant, or had he simply not cared? David loosened his tie. “Alright, I’m not going to waste my time. Leo is sick, in the hospital. It’s time for you to come home and take care of him like a mother should.”

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1 It was three in the morning when I stared at the string of unfamiliar charges on my phone, my fingertips ice-cold. $2,980. The Grand Washington Hotel, Executive Suite. The charge was from last night at 8 PM. My husband, Ethan, is a homicide detective. He was supposed to be on the night shift. My knuckles turned white as I clutched the phone. I sent him a text. “Just saw the credit card statement. A hotel charge from last night?” He replied instantly. “The department had us on a last-minute overtime detail. They put us up in a hotel. Forgot to tell you.” I stared at the words and a cold, humorless smile touched my lips. The Grand Washington was on the west side of the city. His precinct was on the east. An entire city lay between them. I didn’t press him. Instead, I opened my banking app, screenshotted the merchant address, and forwarded it to my best friend, Chloe. She was a private investigator. Her reply was a quick “OK” emoji, followed by a message: “You just wait. I’m about to uncover a masterpiece of dirt for you.” … Two hours later, Chloe’s messages blew up my phone. A security camera video. A GPS location. In the video, Ethan, still in his police uniform, was holding hands with a girl in a white dress as they entered the hotel elevator. The girl had long hair and a slender waist. In profile, she couldn’t have been more than twenty. When she smiled, her eyes curved into crescents. On her wrist was a familiar red cord bracelet. The GPS location was for “St. Jude’s Orphanage.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. My breathing grew tight. That red cord bracelet… I had woven it myself three years ago, a charm for his safety. He had sworn he would never take it off, except on dangerous assignments. And the orphanage? I knew Ethan sponsored a girl there. Her name was Lily. Her parents had died when she was young, and he’d said she was withdrawn and lonely. He’d mentioned her a few times, saying the poor kid needed extra support. I’d even gone with him once to drop off some things. I only saw her from a distance—a skinny, silent girl who never looked up. She was nothing like the radiant young woman in the video. I changed my clothes and drove straight to the orphanage. The security guard recognized my car and waved me through, telling me Lily was in the back garden. I saw her from a distance, sitting on a bench, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked down at her phone. The sunlight caught the ends of her hair, gilding them in gold. The red cord on her wrist flashed, a bright slash of color that made my eyes ache. She heard my footsteps and looked up. Her smile froze when she saw me. She quickly stood, her voice timid. “Mrs… Mrs. Evans.” She was just as I remembered her: shy and reserved. I walked right up to her, my eyes falling on her phone screen. The chat was open to a conversation with “Ethan.” His last message, sent at 7:30 last night, read: “Old spot tonight. I have a gift for you.” Her reply: “Okay! You’re the best, Ethan!” I said nothing, shifting my gaze to the red cord on her wrist. “That’s a nice bracelet,” I said, my voice flat. “Did Ethan give it to you?” Her face paled. She instinctively tried to hide her hand behind her back. “Yes… He said it was for my birthday.” “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “When was your birthday? I don’t remember Ethan ever mentioning it.” Her eyes darted around, and she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. I smiled, pulling out my own phone. I played the security footage and held it in front of her face. “8 PM. The Grand Washington Hotel. Was this the gift your ‘Ethan’ gave you?” The blood drained from Lily’s face. Tears welled up in her eyes instantly, fat drops splashing onto the back of her hands. Her shoulders trembled like a leaf in an autumn wind. “Mrs. Evans, it’s not what you think…” she sobbed. “Ethan said there was a mission for the department, and he needed my help… he told me to wait for him at the hotel… I swear I didn’t know…” “A mission?” I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “What kind of mission requires a white dress, my husband’s personal good luck charm, and a hotel room?” She was speechless, her sobs growing louder, attracting the attention of a caregiver from the orphanage. The woman, who was in her forties and recognized me, hurried over. “Mrs. Evans, Lily’s just a kid. She doesn’t know any better. Is there some kind of misunderstanding?” I ignored her, my eyes locked on Lily. “How long have you been with Ethan?” She bit her lip, shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. “I haven’t… Mrs. Evans, please believe me…” “I don’t.” I put my phone away and turned to leave. There was nothing more to say to her. The moment I got in my car, Ethan called. “Sienna, you went to the orphanage?” His voice was laced with annoyance. “Lily just called me, crying. She said you misunderstood.” “Misunderstood?” I laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. “What did I misunderstand? That she was wearing your bracelet while on a date with you at a hotel?” There was a pause on the other end, then Ethan’s voice came back, weary and strained. “Sienna, can you please be mature about this? Lily is a troubled kid I’m sponsoring. Her life has been hard. What’s wrong with me looking out for her? Why do you always have to be so suspicious?” “Suspicious?” My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Ethan, you weren’t even on duty last night, were you?” His tone turned to ice. “Sienna, are you having me followed?” “I don’t have the time for that.” I hung up on him and immediately called Chloe. “I need you to pull Ethan’s duty rosters for the last six months. And all his hotel records. I want every single detail.” Chloe let out a low whistle. “So we’re going scorched earth, huh? You got it. Stand by.” Thirty minutes later, the email arrived. In the attached file, more than a dozen dates on Ethan’s duty roster were circled in red. All of them were nights he claimed to be working but was never actually at the precinct. The hotel records were a gut punch. Starting three months ago, there was a charge almost every week. The locations varied, but they were always near the orphanage. The most recent was last night’s charge at The Grand Washington. The payment method for every single one was his credit card. I stared at the records, a wave of nausea rolling through me. Ethan, we’ve been married for five years. I knew your job was demanding, dangerous. I handled everything at home so you wouldn’t have to worry. When you told me you wanted to sponsor Lily, I supported you. I even bought her clothes and books myself… And all this time, the man I gave my entire heart to was treating me like a fool. My phone rang again. It was Ethan’s partner, Mark. “Sienna, did you and Ethan have a fight?” Mark sounded uncomfortable. “He just tore through the precinct, throwing files around, yelling about how you’re being unreasonable…” I listened numbly as Mark tried to smooth things over. “Listen, Ethan’s under a lot of pressure. You gotta cut him some slack. That Lily kid, she’s had it rough. He’s just got a soft spot for her, that’s all…” “A soft spot that requires hotel room service?” I cut him off, my voice like ice. “Mark, if you don’t have anything else to say, I’m hanging up.” I ended the call, started the car, and drove straight to the City Police Department headquarters. Some debts needed to be settled face-to-face. The entrance to the police department was bustling. I had just parked when I saw Ethan walking out. He was in uniform, tall and imposing, but his face was dark. He saw me, and his brow furrowed instantly. He strode over, yanked open the passenger door, and slid inside. “Sienna, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, his voice low and seething with rage. “Are you trying to make a scene?” “Make a scene?” I looked at him. “Ethan, I just want the truth. What, exactly, is your relationship with Lily?” He turned away, avoiding my eyes. “I told you. I’m her sponsor.” “Does sponsoring her involve a hotel?” I sneered. “Ethan, do you think I’m blind?” He whipped his head back to face me, his eyes sharp. “Sienna! Are you going to keep pushing me?” Just then, a slender figure darted out from behind a pillar near the entrance. It was Lily. She was clutching a thermos, her white dress fluttering in the breeze. When she saw us in the car, her face went white, and her eyes immediately filled with tears. “Ethan…” she called out, her voice trembling like a leaf. “I brought you some homemade soup… I didn’t know your wife would be here…” Ethan flinched as if he’d been burned. He shot out of the car and was at her side in three strides, instinctively shielding her behind him. The movement was so natural, so practiced, it was like a knife in my eyes. “Who told you to come here?” His words were a reprimand, but his tone held an unmistakable undercurrent of tenderness. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me in my office?” “I-I was worried the soup would get cold…” Lily looked down, and as she did, the red cord bracelet slid down her arm. The glaring red caught my eye. I pushed my door open. The sharp click of my heels echoed on the concrete as I walked toward them. As I approached, Ethan subtly pulled Lily further behind him. That one small gesture ignited the fury that had been smoldering in my chest. “You’re protecting her?” I laughed, but the sound was cold. “Ethan, in your heart, who is your wife?” “Sienna, stop being hysterical!” Ethan’s face was thunderous. “Lily is just a kid! You’re scaring her!” “I’m scaring her?” I pointed at Lily’s wrist, my voice rising. “Then you tell me what that is on her arm! I wove that red cord! I had a charm for your safety woven into it at the temple three years ago! You said you would wear it for the rest of your life to protect me! And what did you do? You gave it to another woman and took her to a hotel room!” Passing officers were starting to stare, some stopping to whisper. Ethan’s face flushed, a vein throbbing at his temple. “Sienna! Can we talk about this at home? This is my workplace!” “Are you scared now?” I took a step closer, locking my eyes on his. “You weren’t scared when you took her into that hotel, were you? You weren’t scared when you brought her into our home, into our bed! Ethan, when you were doing your disgusting deeds in that uniform, you should have known this day would come!” “Mrs. Evans, please stop…” Lily burst into tears, clinging to Ethan’s arm. “It’s all my fault, don’t blame Ethan… It was me… I pursued him. He rejected me so many times…” “You pursued him?” I laughed as if it were the funniest joke in the world. I pulled out my phone, played the video, and shoved it in her face. “Pursued him all the way into the elevator, holding his hand? Pursued him by wearing my bracelet and waiting for him in a hotel room? Lily, did your parents not teach you the meaning of the word ‘shame’?” She trembled under my verbal assault, tears streaming down her face. Suddenly, she clutched her stomach and doubled over. “Ah… my stomach…” Ethan’s expression changed in an instant. Without thinking, he bent down to help her. “Lily! What’s wrong?” “Don’t touch her!” I shouted. “Ethan, look at her! She’s acting!” “Sienna, are you insane?!” he roared, the disgust in his eyes cutting me like a razor. “Lily’s pregnant! If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you!”

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After getting married to—and pregnant by—my sworn enemy, a freak accident sent me hurtling back in time. Back to the year our hatred for each other was at its absolute peak. He handed me a tissue as a sudden wave of nausea hit me, his voice laced with ice. “Whose is it?” “Not telling me? Fine,” he scoffed. “Doesn’t matter.” He lowered his gaze, his long lashes concealing the dark, turbulent emotions in his eyes. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out myself.” “And when I find him,” he promised, his voice a low, dangerous growl, “I’m going to kill him.” I poked his grim, stormy face. “But Jason,” I said, “the baby is yours.” Jason: “?” 1 The moment I saw Jason, I knew something was off. His shoulders were slightly hunched, the corners of his eyes tilted upwards, and a ghost of a smirk played on his lips. Every word out of his mouth was dripping with sarcasm. “Well, well, Chloe. Fancy seeing you here. But—” He snatched the wine glass from my hand. “Do your parents know?” He continued his one-man show. “I seem to recall they explicitly forbade you from drinking ever again. Should I give them a little reminder? Maybe get them to cancel this credit card, too?” I stared at him, suspicion creeping in. I held his gaze until the tips of his ears turned a faint red. He cleared his throat. “Don’t even try the puppy-dog eyes. It won’t work on me.” A theory started to form in my mind. “Jason, what year is it?” His face darkened, his voice edged with annoyance. “Chloe, I take my eyes off you for five minutes, and you’re already drunk off your ass?” The back of his hand was cool against my cheek. He leaned in, his nose almost touching mine, and I caught the familiar, pleasant scent of cedarwood. “You don’t even smell like alcohol,” he murmured, confused. “How are you…” Jason hadn’t worn cologne since I got pregnant. The scent hit me like a ton of bricks. I clapped a hand over my mouth and bolted for the restroom, heaving until my head spun. As I was rinsing my mouth at the sink, Jason appeared beside me, offering a paper towel. The warm, orange light of the bathroom blurred his features, but his voice was thick with resentment. “Is the sight of me really that repulsive to you? Did you have to throw up?” I wiped my mouth. “Sorry. Can’t help it.” His eyes darkened. He clenched his jaw, forcing the words through his teeth. “…Chloe, do you hate me that much?” Looking at him, it all clicked. The post-marriage Jason would never dare speak to me like this, would never look at me with such open hostility. This dynamic—this was us, years ago. This was back when we couldn’t stand the sight of each other. No love. Pure, unadulterated hate. Seeing his reaction, a mischievous urge took over. “Can’t you tell, Jason?” I said sweetly. “This isn’t disgust. It’s morning sickness.” 2 Jason and I were inseparable as kids. We shared popsicles in the summer and huddled under the same blanket in the winter. Our parents’ favorite joke was that they should just arrange our marriage then and there. But then puberty hit, and Jason turned cold. He walked around with a permanent scowl, acting like he was God’s gift to the world. At that age, the lines between boys and girls were already a minefield. Sensing his hostility, I started to pull away, too. But Jason wouldn’t let me go. He went out of his way to antagonize me, using our childhood friendship as an excuse to control my life. If I so much as went to the library with a male classmate, he’d run to my parents and accuse me of having a secret boyfriend. I once grabbed him by the collar, furious. “Jason, what the hell is your problem? You can’t stand to see me happy, can you? Just because your love life is a train wreck, you have to drag me down with you?” His hair was a mess from my grip, and he bit his lip, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. I froze, the heat from his skin burning my palm. I dropped my hands as if I’d been scalded. “Ugh, stop faking it, you manipulative jerk,” I spat, before turning and running away. After that day, we became mortal enemies. We fought, we schemed, we were constantly at each other’s throats, locked in a battle to the death. But the outcome was something no one ever saw coming. In the end, after all the fighting, Jason and I got married. 3 Jason snapped out of his shock. “I don’t believe you,” he said immediately. Classic Jason. I didn’t waste time arguing. I dragged him to the hospital and let him watch as I went through a full prenatal check-up. He stared at the damning numbers on the report, unable to deny it any longer. His fingers trembled, his voice like shattered glass. “Whose is it? Does he know?” I tilted my head. “Well, he probably does now.” His face was a thundercloud. He slammed his fist into the hospital wall, muttering a curse under his breath. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then softened his tone. “I won’t tell your parents. You need to rest for the next couple of days. I’ll arrange for a doctor to perform the procedure.” “What procedure?” I asked, feigning innocence. “An abortion.” He forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I already spoke with the doctor. It’s still early, so the risk to you is minimal… You’re not going to tell me you want to keep it, are you?” I nodded firmly. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth in front of me. “Chloe, are you out of your mind?! You’re still so young! Do you think this is as simple as getting a puppy? You’re still in college! How are you going to be responsible for another human being?” “You’re overthinking it, Jason,” I said vaguely. “If I can’t handle it, the baby’s father will help out.” Jason just laughed, a cold, bitter sound. The corners of his eyes were unnaturally red. “If that bastard had any sense of responsibility, he wouldn’t have let you get pregnant in the first place. He’s just trying to trap you, tie you down with a baby!” I tried to defend my “baby daddy.” “Don’t talk about him like that. He’s actually a pretty good guy.” Jason’s hands fell to his sides. His gaze was like a snake, coiling around me. Then, he smiled. “You know, Chloe, I never took you for the type to be blinded by love. You like him that much? Enough to throw away your entire future? I’m dying to know who this guy is. Who could possibly make you stoop so low?” I was about to tell him the truth before he completely lost it, but then he started spilling his own secrets like a broken dam. “That senior you had a crush on? I had him sent abroad. That aspiring actor who was hitting on you? His career is over. And that pretty boy who lives next door to you? He’s playing for the other team now. Chloe, I’ve always been watching you. Besides me, who else do you have?” I froze. I remembered all those guys. We’d had brief, flirtatious moments, but then, one by one, they had all disappeared from my life for one reason or another. I had always just chalked it up to my terrible luck with men. “…That was all you?” My feelings were a complicated mess. After we got married, I’d told him about my past relationships, and he had pretended to know nothing. “Jason, you are one seriously messed up individual.” He just smirked. “It’s fine if you don’t tell me. I’ll find out myself.” His expression turned vicious, a vein popping on his forehead. “And Chloe, when I find him, I swear I’m going to kill him.” I sighed. “You really want to know who it is?” Under his intense, scrutinizing gaze, I reached out and poked his stormy face. “It’s you.” The darkness on his face only deepened. “Chloe, you’d really go this far to protect him? You’d even lie to me?” Ugh, this was getting nowhere. I looked at his tightly pressed lips. I remembered his younger brother once telling me that Jason had a secret crush, a “white moonlight,” that he’d been pining over for years. I never said anything, but it had always bothered me. Had he held her? Had he kissed her? The thought always left a bitter taste in my mouth, a frustration I could only relieve by kissing him senseless. But no matter how many times I kissed him, I would never be his first. If my timeline was correct, his “white moonlight” wasn’t even back in the country yet. A wicked idea sparked in my mind. I stood on my toes, hooked my arms around his neck, and pressed my lips against his. His lips were cool, but his mouth was like molten lava. The Jason in front of me was just an inexperienced kid; he was no match for the seasoned woman I had become. When the kiss ended, I winked at him. “So? Do you believe me now?” He looked like a malfunctioning robot, a deep blush spreading from his cheeks all the way down his neck. He opened his mouth a few times, but no words came out. After a long, awkward silence, a look of grim determination settled on his face. “Have the baby,” he said. “I’ll be the father.” … I slapped him across the face. “Get lost.” 4 “Chloe? Nah, my brother’s not here.” I pushed his younger brother, Caleb, into the apartment. “I’m not looking for your brother. I’m looking for you.” The moment I stepped inside, I wrinkled my nose. “Caleb, when was the last time you left this apartment?” I pulled open the curtains, and he shrieked like a goblin exposed to sunlight, scurrying into the shadows. Caleb was Jason’s polar opposite. Jason was the life of the party; Caleb was a hardcore recluse. He wore the same black jacket every day and glasses as thick as Coke bottles. He spent all his time hunched over his computer, doing God knows what. “Chloe, what’s up? Does my brother know you’re here? Maybe I should let him know.” “Tell your brother what?” I glared at him. “You’re not to say a word.” “…It’s nothing, really,” I continued. “Remember how you told me your brother has been hung up on his first love for years?” Caleb was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then he let out a slow, “Ohhh.” “What about her?” I cleared my throat. “She’s coming back to the country soon, isn’t she? Do you know her flight information? I’m just curious. I want to see what the woman who’s had your brother obsessed for so long looks like. No other reason.” No other reason. Yeah, right. Jason had dropped out of college and fled the country because she had rejected him. Even after we were married, I could still feel his lingering affection for her in the careless things he’d say. “It’s fine,” I’d once said, waving a dismissive hand, trying to act magnanimous. “Everyone has an ex. I dated like, seven or eight guys before you.” Jason’s hand on my waist had tightened. “Is that so, darling? You’re quite… experienced, then.” His voice was low and dangerous. “So I guess you won’t mind if we get a little wild tonight?” I’d stuck my chin out. “Of course not!” After that night, I swore I would never try to act tough in front of Jason again. At least, not in bed. 5 Now that I had the chance to go back, I was going to nip their little romance in the bud. Caleb’s expression was even more bewildered. “You mean back in high school?” I prompted. “When he suddenly became all cold and aloof? You told me it was because the girl he had a crush on liked that type, so he was trying to imitate it.” Understanding dawned on his face. His thick glasses hid his eyes, but his tone was laced with a strange, knowing quality. “Ohhh, that.” “Is your brother still in touch with her?” “…I don’t know if I’m allowed to say.” “Hey!” I snapped. “I’m the one who pulled you out of the pool when you were a kid! You used to follow me around calling me ‘sis’! Are you telling me you’re choosing your brother over me? You don’t have to cover for him. I already know who the girl is.” Caleb looked skeptical. “You really know, Chloe?” I remembered back in high school, the only girl Jason was ever close to was the class president, Maya Evans. People were always whispering about them. Then, right after graduation, Maya’s family emigrated. So, she had to be the one. “I’m not asking you to do anything bad,” I said. “Just get me her flight information. I’ll handle the rest.” Caleb’s protests were futile. He sat down at his computer, and a few clicks later, Maya’s flight details were on my phone. I beamed, then noticed his collar was flipped up. I reached out to fix it, and he shot up from his chair as if he’d been electrocuted. My hand froze in mid-air, suddenly awkward. “Ch-Chloe, I can get it myself.” I clicked my tongue. “So jumpy. It’s not like I’m going to eat you.” He clutched his collar like a damsel in distress. “But… this isn’t right. What if my brother sees? He’ll get the wrong idea.” I was speechless. “The wrong idea about what? Caleb, you really need to get out more. Your social skills have completely atrophied. What am I, the scandalous sister-in-law having an affair with her husband’s brother?” He stumbled backward, tripping over his computer tower. My hand was still on him, and I went down with him. My forehead smacked into his chin, and we both lay there, stunned and speechless with pain. When I finally recovered, I saw that his glasses had fallen off. “You know,” I mused, “you’re actually kind of cute without your glasses.” And of course, at that exact moment, the door opened. It was Jason. “Caleb,” he asked, “why is Chloe here? When did you two get so…?” The door swung open, and the first thing Jason saw was me, kneeling on top of his brother, one hand on his chest, the other cupping his chin, while Caleb lay there with his shirt in disarray, teary-eyed, and a suspicious blush on his cheeks. Jason strode over, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me off Caleb. He smiled, but it was a smile that held no warmth. “Well, Chloe,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “No wonder you wouldn’t tell me. So, you’re carrying my little niece or nephew, are you?” 6 Caleb scrambled to put his glasses back on. “Bro, it’s not what it looks like! The floor was slippery, we fell, that’s why she was on top of me… Stop glaring at me, I’m getting off her, see?” He was only making things worse. “Ugh, Caleb, just stop talking,” I groaned. “Jason, it was an accident… a-and unclench your fist, okay? He’s your only brother, let’s not kill him.” “An accident?” Jason sneered. “Fine. Let’s say this was an accident. What about the pregnancy?” “Pr-pregnancy?” Caleb stammered, his eyes wide. “Who’s pregnant?” Before Jason could say more, I clamped a hand over his mouth and shot Caleb a look that could kill. He took the hint and practically flew out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Jason’s eyes were dark and stormy. “You’re still protecting him? After he’s clearly trying to shirk his responsibility? Don’t stop me, Chloe. I’m cleaning house today.” His voice was terrifyingly calm. I had no doubt he was serious. “What are you talking about? The baby’s not his! Me and Caleb? Do you really think that’s possible? He’s like a little brother to me!” “I’ve already looked into it, Chloe. Besides him, you haven’t been in close contact with any other man recently. The timing fits perfectly. What else am I supposed to think?” Jason’s expression was unreadable, but the trembling of his fingertips betrayed his inner turmoil. “I’ve… I’ve known you longer than he has.” I scratched my head. This whole situation was too bizarre to explain. How could I tell him I was from five years in the future? Then, his words sparked an idea. “But in the past three months, the only other guy I’ve been in close contact with, besides your brother, is you.” Jason looked down, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Chloe, my memory is perfectly fine.” “You don’t remember because you weren’t in your right mind when it happened! Remember two months ago? I snuck out to that bar, lost a drinking game, and you suddenly showed up and took the penalty shot for me? And you only realized after you drank it that the drink was spiked.” I had to rack my brain to remember that old story. At the time, I’d been so grateful to him. I took him to the hospital, stayed by his side, and eventually fell asleep by his bed. I remember thinking that maybe this was our chance to finally call a truce. But then he woke up, yelled at me, and told my parents. He was so harsh, and I was so hurt. It wasn’t my fault; how could I have known those guys had bad intentions? I’d finally snapped. “Jason, who do you think you are? You have no right to tell me what to do! Even if something had happened, it would have been none of your business!” He’d just stared at me, his face pale, his lips pressed together. After that, things between us got even worse. Seeing the flicker of recognition in his eyes, I pressed on. “That night, you were completely out of it, and I’d had a few drinks myself… and well, one thing led to another, and we slept together.” The range of emotions that crossed Jason’s face was truly spectacular. “So, you’re saying…” I puffed out my chest and lifted my chin. “That’s right, Jason. I took advantage of you!”

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