Category: English

After remarrying Jesiah Spencer, I became the perfect, compliant wife. Jesiah once said, “If you’d been this agreeable from the start, maybe we never would’ve divorced.” Even at a college reunion, his drunk friends would mock me, “You really are Jesiah’s slave, aren’t you? Even after divorcing, you just had to get back with him. You totally messed up his chance to marry Serena.” The atmosphere instantly grew thick with awkwardness. Jesiah probably expected me to blow up like I used to. But I just smiled, saying nothing. They all thought I remarried Jesiah because I loved him too much. The truth? I’d been so angry during our last divorce that I walked away with absolutely nothing, suffering a devastating financial loss. This time, after we remarried, I immediately drafted a new prenuptial agreement. When we divorced again, I wouldn’t be the one left empty-handed. After the party, Jesiah said to me in the car, “I feel like your attitude towards me has been off ever since we remarried…” “You’re being overly sensitive,” I calmly replied. “Before we got back together, I promised you repeatedly that I wouldn’t let Serena interfere in our lives again, and I’d keep my distance from her. Even at the reunion tonight, she and I kept to ourselves. What more do you want from me?” He wasn’t known for his patience, so hearing him actually string together that many words was practically unheard of. “I’ve told you countless times, if Serena’s father hadn’t helped me back then, I never would’ve made it out of that poor little town.” I locked my phone screen and stared at him, calmly meeting his impatience. “You don’t need to explain, I know.” I’d heard the same story a million times. That’s why I’d endured it when, after graduation, Jesiah went to great lengths to fast-track Serena’s recruitment into the hospital, keeping her by his side. That’s why I’d endured her frequent appearances in our lives, even on our wedding anniversaries, there was always a third person tagging along. That’s why I’d endured their endless sharing of daily details, while my own attempts at conversation were always met with cold, clipped words. But when I came home early from a business trip and found them tangled up, naked, that was it. I couldn’t endure it anymore. I demanded a divorce, willing to walk away with nothing just to cut ties with him. But then, not long after, my mother was diagnosed with an aggressive tumor and needed surgery. And it turned out, Jesiah was the only surgeon who could perform it. So, I went and begged him. What truly chilled me to the bone wasn’t just my emotional backlash, but his utterly callous attitude. “Chloe, you know I’ve been incredibly busy since my promotion.” “But if the patient were my own family, I’d definitely make time to operate myself.” “So… do you finally understand what you did wrong?” I stared at him, stunned, and under his smug, self-satisfied expression, I nodded. We remarried. But our relationship was irrevocably broken. Even sleeping in the same bed, we were strangers. Just like today. “Jesiah! I knew you hadn’t left yet! I told you, you wouldn’t abandon Serena!” Serena’s college friend, Sarah, waved from a distance. She helped a half-drunk Serena walk over to us. “Serena’s so beautiful, I just couldn’t let her go home alone. Didn’t you always take her home before?” She glanced at me, subtly, her tone laced with mockery. “Chloe, you’re pretty ‘safe-looking,’ you’ll be fine going home by yourself, right?” Jesiah looked at Serena, leaning against her friend, then at me. He looked conflicted. It stung, just as it always did, no matter how many times I witnessed his hesitation. But unlike before, when I would shout and scream, this time I simply raised my phone, expressionless. “My ride’s here. I’m leaving.” Just then, my Uber arrived. Jesiah helped Serena into the back seat, rolled down the window, and looked up at me. “You go home first and wait for me.” “Tomorrow is your mother’s final surgery. We need to discuss the details tonight.” As expected, Jesiah didn’t come home that night. But thankfully, I wasn’t like I used to be. Foolishly waiting up for him.

If a breakup is a massive withdrawal, then I’d been tortured by that feeling twice. The first time, I broke down, deleting his number and throwing away everything related to him. But after years together, he was ingrained in every corner of my life. The books he’d given me still held his love letters, each word pouring out his deepest feelings. The scarf he’d knitted for a whole month, pricking his fingers raw, he’d still smiled foolishly, asking me to try it on. He knew I loved stargazing, so he’d used two months’ worth of his part-time earnings to buy a telescope and confessed his love to me under a once-in-a-lifetime meteor shower. “Chloe, I grew up without parents, no one to look out for me. I just want to be yours, completely, to let you guide me.” But then, later, he said, “In this world, I see Serena as my only family. Chloe, can’t you just stop being so possessive?” Family? What kind of family sleeps naked in the same bed? Honestly, from the very beginning, I’d heard rumors about him and Serena at school. They said Jesiah was the top student, and the school made an exception to admit Serena because of him. They were from the same small town, their bond so close from childhood, I couldn’t help but be suspicious. But he’d told me, “Serena’s father practically adopted me back then, otherwise I would have died. I owe him everything.” “But Chloe, don’t worry, in my heart, she’s only ever been like a sister to me.” I believed him, and I paid for it with five years of my life. To be honest, that first time I saw him again after our divorce, my heart still pounded in my chest for him. His phone lock screen was still our photo together, as if nothing had changed. Remarrying him, I told myself, was my second attempt at withdrawal. I couldn’t forgive him and pretend nothing happened. Nor could I just walk away cleanly right then. So, I decided to let the pain slowly chip away at me, like a dull blade. Even if it hurt more, even if it took longer. But thankfully, after six months, I was finally numb. Once my mother’s last surgery was done, I could divorce him again, free from any burdens. I’d already drafted the divorce papers: 70% for me, 30% for him. After all, he was the one who messed up. He had to pay a price, didn’t he? However, the next day, Jesiah disappeared. The substitute surgeon, thrust onto the operating table, was sweating profusely. “We can’t reach Dr. Spencer! You’re his wife, don’t you know where he is?” “I have less than a ten percent chance of success with this surgery. You… you need to prepare yourself!” Jesiah’s phone went straight to voicemail. I called him over a hundred times, until my fingers were numb, mechanically dialing the same number again and again. Until, after what felt like an eternity, someone finally answered. “Jesiah, where in the world are—” “Oh, it’s Chloe. Jesiah went back to his hometown with me for an emergency. He’s in the shower right now.” *Buzz.* My mind went completely blank. My phone slipped from my hand and smashed to the floor, its screen shattering into a spiderweb. Was it my imagination, or did I hear Jesiah’s voice through the receiver? “Who’s calling? Is it Chloe?” “No, just a spam call…” For the next three hours. I knelt outside the operating room, begging for my mother’s life, pleading with whatever gods would listen not to take her. But when the lights of the operating room finally dimmed, all I received was a death certificate. 2. I handled my mother’s funeral all by myself. For seven days, I drifted in a daze. It wasn’t until the eighth day that Jesiah finally returned. “I’m sorry, I…” Before he could finish, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Jesiah Spencer, you bastard!” “You killed my mother!” I put every ounce of my fury into that slap. Jesiah’s head snapped to the side. To my surprise, he didn’t get angry. He just calmly explained, “Your mother’s condition wasn’t good. Even if the surgery succeeded, she would have been tormented by chemotherapy treatments over and over again.” “Serena’s father suddenly fell gravely ill. If I didn’t go back with her, she might not have seen her father for the last time.” I was trembling with rage, unable to form a coherent sentence. But his cruelty didn’t stop there. “You never had a father growing up, so it’s only natural you wouldn’t understand this kind of bond.” I stared at him in disbelief. I couldn’t reconcile the man in front of me with the loving partner from my memories. He knew. He knew my father died in his mistress’s bed when I was eight, and that it was a pain that had haunted me my entire life. Back then, he’d held me close, comforting me, vowing to love me forever. In that moment, I completely lost it. I grabbed everything within reach and hurled it at him, screaming for him to die. But he just watched me rage, his eyes cold, and finally said, “Chloe, I actually prefer you like this.” “Stop pretending from now on. It’s pointless.” After he left, I collapsed onto the cluttered floor, sobbing uncontrollably. I started to hate him. I hated how he’d used the very weapon I’d given him to stab me through the heart, without so much as a flinch. My phone suddenly rang. It was Serena. *Hey there, sis. Heard about your mom. My condolences~* *It’s all Jesiah’s fault. I told him my dad just had a slight cold, but he just *had* to abandon you and your mom to come home with me.* *But… who told you to keep pestering him to remarry you? You only have yourself to blame, right?* Those messages stripped me of all reason. Clutching my phone, I rushed to the hospital and reported Jesiah Spencer and Serena’s improper relationship to the administration. I reported Jesiah for gross medical negligence, disappearing before surgery due to personal reasons, which led to my mother’s death. But the hospital didn’t immediately launch an investigation. They merely “invited” me into an office. They said it was a private matter, and they couldn’t intervene. Their words were a warning: Jesiah was a brilliant surgeon they’d invested heavily in. They advised me to let it go. When Jesiah arrived, I was in the middle of arguing passionately with Dean Thompson. “How can it have nothing to do with him? If it weren’t for him, my mother wouldn’t have died!” But Jesiah simply said, “I apologize, my wife has been through a lot lately, and her mental state might be a bit unstable.” The glances that had held a touch of sympathy instantly turned complex. They instinctively took a few steps back, creating a distance between us. Soon, only Jesiah and I remained in the cramped office. “Chloe, apologize.” I had cried so much my eyes were swollen, blurring his face, but I could feel his condescending presence. “You shouldn’t have caused a scene at the hospital. What if it gets out and damages Serena’s reputation?” “So, I need you to apologize to her.” I stopped wasting my breath on him and turned to open the door. I was going to contact the media, reporters, and expose their illicit affair. But then I heard him sigh softly behind me. “Then don’t blame me.” As the youngest Chief Resident in the hospital, a brilliant young mind already famous in the medical world, he’d taken seven years to climb to this position. But it would only take him seven days to have me committed to a psychiatric hospital. I lost count of how many times I insisted I wasn’t sick, only to be met with larger doses of sedatives and tighter restraints. I began to calm down, stopped resisting, and waited for my chance. Finally, I seized it. I escaped.

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Before Valerie’s grandmother passed away, her dying wish was for Valerie to marry me. So, even though she still loved her high school sweetheart, Valerie stuck to our engagement. Until her high school sweetheart killed the puppy I’d raised since it was tiny. Valerie, yet again, chose to stand by him. This time, I didn’t argue. I just contacted my professor and applied to join his top-secret research project. Before I left, I gave myself seven days to sort everything out. On the first day, I took off the engagement ring, the one that was supposed to symbolize “forever.” On the third day, I handed in my resignation to the company. It wasn’t until the day I left that Valerie seemed to suddenly remember Lucky, promising to take me to pick out a new puppy tomorrow. Immediately after, she added, “Brandon needs a tux for the company’s charity gala tonight. Get it ready and send it over to him.” I smiled and agreed, and from that moment on, I disappeared from her life forever. Later, every time Valerie heard news of me, she would stare blankly at that engagement ring. It was the lover she could never get back, and the new puppy she would never get to give away…

Looking at the non-disclosure agreement in my hand, I signed my name without a moment’s hesitation. “Professor Davies, I’m ready to join the Rocket Development Project.” He looked at me with a hint of regret. “Julian, you need to understand, this project is highly classified. Once you’re in, you’ll need to go off-grid for at least ten years, cutting off all contact with the outside world.” “Aren’t you getting married soon? You should at least discuss this with your fiancée.” Remembering Valerie’s cold and resolute face, I shook my head with a bitter smile. “There’s no need.” Professor Davies was silent for a moment before finally nodding. “Alright. Get ready. We leave in seven days.” When I left Professor Davies’ office, it was raining. I didn’t bother with an umbrella, walking all the way back to that cold apartment, drenched. As expected, Valerie still wasn’t home. Brandon had taken Lucky, the puppy I’d raised since it was tiny, and when I confronted him, Valerie had snapped at me. I hadn’t seen her for three days since then. I pulled the ring off my finger and tossed it carelessly into the back of a drawer. It was “forever,” Valerie’s own design, symbolizing a lifetime of commitment, a promise of “till death do us part.” I had once been naive enough to believe we would grow old together. But ever since Brandon came back to the country, everything changed. Valerie stopped remembering my birthday, stopped caring about my feelings. I became nothing more than a disposable shadow in this house. I was about to take off my soaked shirt when the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Brandon standing outside, a look of disdain and arrogance on his face. He casually nudged something on the ground with his foot. “Your dog. Unfortunately, it got hit by a car.” I stared in disbelief at his feet—Lucky’s tiny body was curled up there, his fur matted with mud and blood. My heart twisted, and my eyes instantly burned. Seeing my reaction, Brandon’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk. “It’s just a dog. Why are you crying like someone in your family died?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. I shot up and grabbed his collar. “You did this, didn’t you?!” Just then, Valerie rushed over, drawn by the noise. Her brows furrowed as she saw the scene. Brandon smoothly brushed my hand away and sighed at Valerie. “I understand he’s upset about his pet. But he seems to think this is my fault.” Valerie immediately glared at me, her eyes filled with displeasure. “Brandon was being kind, bringing Lucky back! Julian, you’re out of control.” I pointed at Lucky, my voice trembling. “Kind? Look at him!” Valerie’s gaze swept over the tiny body on the ground. A flicker of pity crossed her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by irritation. “It was just an accident! Julian, can’t you be more mature? We’re sad about it, but life goes on. Grandma’s trust fund for you is more than enough to handle this.” “A ‘dog’?” I stared at her, barely able to breathe. She knew what Lucky meant to me – he was the last gift my mother gave me before she died. She had once stood by my mother’s hospital bed, solemnly promising to take care of Lucky and me. Now, to defend Brandon, she casually dismissed him as “just a dog.” Valerie’s heart had clearly strayed beyond return. I was tired, too tired to argue anymore. Thinking of my impending departure, a sense of relief washed over me. Valerie ignored me, turning to Brandon, her tone softening. “It’s pouring outside. Let me walk you out.” Brandon nodded. As he turned to follow Valerie, he glanced back at me, a provocative glint in his eyes. Watching them walk away side-by-side, I smiled bitterly. It turned out the Valerie who had fallen for me at first sight, who had pursued me so passionately, had never truly loved me. I was just a comfort during her loneliness, and Brandon, he was her heart’s true desire. Now, her true love was back. It was time for me, the placeholder, to make my exit. But none of that mattered anymore. I locked the ring and the unsigned pre-nuptial agreement in the drawer. Valerie would never know that the agreement her grandmother had forced her to sign, stipulating that half her assets be transferred to me, I had never even taken to a lawyer for notarization, nor had I signed my name.

After Lucky’s cremation, I buried him next to my mother’s tombstone. Early on the third day, Professor Davies sent me the exact departure time. I replied, “Received,” then walked into the Human Resources office. The process of formally resigning went unusually smoothly, perhaps they had been displeased with me for a while. As soon as I closed the office door, hushed voices drifted out: “Quitting just like that? It’s different when your fiancée is about to be CEO. I heard Valerie’s grandmother designated half her trust fund to him.” “What CEO’s husband? They’re not even married yet. I bet it’s because Valerie transferred his key project to Brandon.” “Wasn’t that the project he’d been working on for almost two years? It was almost finished. Letting Brandon take over now is like letting him just waltz in and claim the credit.” “So what? Brandon is Valerie’s favorite.” I couldn’t blame them for thinking that. As soon as Brandon returned to the country, Valerie gave him a Senior Vice President position. Even though he was completely unqualified, she would personally hand projects to him. She even made me pull all-nighters to revise proposals for Brandon, to entertain clients for him, until I ended up hospitalized with a stomach hemorrhage. Even then, she merely said, “You owe him.” Listening to the continuous mockery, my heart remained calm. I just wished time would pass faster. Paperwork done, I returned to the apartment with a box of personal belongings, only to find Valerie and Brandon having breakfast in the dining room, chatting and laughing. Watching Valerie naturally feed Brandon a bite of food, my fingers tightened slightly. Once, I accidentally used her water glass, and she immediately hired a professional team to disinfect the entire kitchen, sternly warning me to mind my boundaries. Turns out she wasn’t a germaphobe; she just recoiled from intimacy with me. Seeing me return, Brandon deliberately hooked his finger around Valerie’s hand, his tone light but subtly pointed. “Valerie, if you gave Julian’s position to me, won’t he be upset?” Valerie didn’t even lift her head, scoffing. “I’m the CEO. Do I need his permission for my decisions?” “But he hasn’t been home for days.” “Let him throw a tantrum, ignore him.” Valerie’s voice was impatient. A victorious smile flickered in Brandon’s eyes, and he leaned casually on her shoulder, an intimate gesture. I remained silent, walking straight towards the stairs. “Julian!” Valerie finally noticed me, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face. She angrily dropped her knife and fork onto her plate, ordering, “Stop!” I didn’t stop. She took a few quick steps and grabbed my arm. “Julian, are you done with your tantrum? You decided to come back?” She reached for the box in my arms. I stepped aside to avoid her. “Don’t bother, you have other things to tend to.” Valerie’s face darkened further, about to erupt, when Brandon’s voice chimed in, just the right hint of dependence. “Valerie, I’d love some scrambled eggs. Yours are the best.” “Okay.” Valerie immediately turned and walked to the kitchen. I was about to head to my room when Brandon blocked the staircase. “Something wrong?” I looked at him. He glanced towards the kitchen, his docile expression vanishing. “You heard it all, didn’t you?” He lowered his voice, an undisguised arrogance in his tone. “Julian, you know perfectly well Valerie’s heart belongs to me. If her grandmother hadn’t forced her, do you really think you’d have been in this position?” “I heard the old lady left you a lot of stuff? Don’t actually think those things are yours.” He advanced half a step, his gaze intense. “Be smart, hand over that agreement yourself. If I say the word, she’ll make you leave anytime.” He paused, a mocking smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, I forgot. Your family is gone. You’re pretty much a stray dog with nowhere to go now. No wonder you’re clinging to Valerie so desperately.” I could endure any humiliation he threw at me. But he shouldn’t have mentioned my family. A cold fury instantly gripped my heart. I lowered my voice, each word deliberate. “Brandon, shut your mouth.” “Julian! What crazy stunt are you pulling now?!” Valerie’s angry shout came from the kitchen doorway. She had clearly heard my low growl and quickly rushed over, instinctively shielding Brandon behind her. I froze. In that instant, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brandon’s mouth twitch almost imperceptibly. Then, his foot slipped, he let out a gasp, and his body seemed to lose balance, falling backward, but his hand “accidentally” slammed hard into my arm. I was already standing at the edge of the stairs, holding a box and off-balance. The sudden force sent me sprawling backward, tumbling down the stairs. Excruciating pain shot through my entire body. “Julian!” Valerie dropped what she was holding and rushed down the stairs to help me. Brandon followed, a hint of panic and helplessness on his face. He clutched his arm, his brow furrowed, and explained to Valerie, “Valerie, I… I lost my footing and accidentally bumped him. I’m so sorry.” His voice was soft, with a deliberate note of suppressed pain, but his gaze darted quickly to me, a fleeting, almost imperceptible coldness in his eyes. Valerie checked Brandon to make sure he was okay, then frowned at me. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital? Brandon didn’t mean it, don’t make a big deal out of this.” I shook my head, turning my face away in pain, only to see my resignation letter and that confidential document lying scattered among my belongings.

My heart leaped into my throat. Ignoring the pain, I fumbled to gather them. “I’ll get it.” Valerie had already knelt down, picking up the resignation letter before me. My breath hitched, my eyes fixed on her hand. Fortunately, her attention was entirely on the letter. I quickly tucked the confidential document under other miscellaneous items. “You quit?” Her tone held surprise. “Yeah.” I haphazardly stuffed my things back into the box. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, displeased. “I told you to hand over the project to Brandon, and you were so unwilling. Did you finally come to your senses?” Perhaps my face was too pale, as her tone softened slightly for a rare moment. “It’s fine that you quit. Grandma left you enough to live on. Just be Mr. Wen now, and stop competing with Brandon. He’s innocent; he doesn’t have as many tricks up his sleeve as you do.” I bit my lower lip, nodding, my heart feeling like it was being pricked by countless needles. I endured the pain, trying to stand. She reached out to help me, then continued, “Before you leave, make sure to explain all the project details to Brandon, so those difficult clients don’t give him trouble.” “He’s not as good at dealing with people as you are, and he’s not like you, knowing how to win over Grandma and get so much stuff.” I didn’t want to waste any more time on them. I calmly replied, “Okay.” Valerie seemed pleased by my obedience, a faint smile gracing her lips. “That’s better. I’ve neglected you lately, but once Brandon fully takes over your work, I’ll make it up to you.” “After Grandma’s mourning period is over, we’ll have our wedding, so she can rest in peace.” I bit my lip hard, suppressing the ache in my chest. That day would never come. Over the next few days, I quietly packed my bags, prepared a detailed project memo for Brandon, and made time to visit Valerie’s grandmother’s grave, informing her of my decision. She had loved me dearly in life; I knew she wouldn’t want to see me suffer like this. On the last day, Valerie didn’t go to the office. I was a little nervous, wondering how to avoid her. But she found the long-unused astronomical telescope. “Brandon wants to go stargazing and camping in the park. I’m going with him today.” “Okay.” I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. This suited me perfectly. “The company’s charity gala is tonight,” she added. “Get his tux ready.” I thought for a moment. By then, I would already be on my way to Nevada. Brandon walked over, intimately linking his arm through Valerie’s, his voice tinged with a well-placed hint of difficulty and grievance. “Valerie, asking Julian to prepare the tux… his project files caused me so much trouble with clients before. Maybe I should just wear something casual? I don’t want to…” He lowered his eyes, his voice trailing off. Though there were no tears, he perfectly portrayed that look of suppressed grievance, of being wronged but not stating it directly. Valerie immediately frowned and glared at me. “Julian! If you don’t want to, you can just say so! Doing these sneaky things behind my back is truly disappointing!” The moment of departure was close at hand. I didn’t want any more conflict. I calmly told Brandon, “My apologies, that was my oversight last time. It won’t happen again.” Then I said to Valerie, “I’ll prepare the tux, don’t worry.” A faint look of shame flickered across Valerie’s face. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke in a stiff voice, “Julian, tomorrow… tomorrow I’ll go with you to pick out a new puppy. We’ll definitely find one just like Lucky.” Before the car Professor Davies sent came to pick me up, I had already delivered the perfectly ironed tux. I also placed the “forever” ring and the never-effective pre-nuptial agreement on the living room table. Carrying my simple luggage downstairs, Professor Davies looked at my expressionless face and sighed softly. “Since you’ve made your decision, focus on your work there and make a real impact.” “I will.” The car started, and Valerie’s mansion grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror, eventually disappearing from sight. In the early hours of the morning, Valerie returned home with a slightly tipsy Brandon. The house was dark and silent. She instinctively felt annoyed. Usually, no matter how late, I would always leave a light on in the living room. “Julian? Go make some hangover soup.” The empty house offered no response. Valerie irritably flipped on the light. The moment her gaze landed on the documents and the ring on the table, her pupils constricted, and she shrieked, “Julian! Who gave you permission to take off the ring!”

But the empty house offered no response, only silence. Valerie stood in the center of the living room, unaware that her heart was trembling. Everyone exchanged confused glances, wondering what was wrong with Valerie, why she was suddenly acting this way. But a chill radiated from Valerie, and no one dared to approach. So they subtly nudged Brandon. “Brandon, what’s wrong with Valerie?” “Don’t you want to go check on her?” “Yeah, it looks like Valerie is looking for something.” Someone even whispered, “Didn’t Valerie stop caring about Julian ages ago? Why is she looking for him now?” “Right? Julian already quit, what’s the point of looking for him?” The whispers reached Valerie’s ears, but she was too preoccupied to listen. Her mind was consumed with where Julian could be, and why he had taken off the ring. For the first time, panic began to set in. She felt as if something was slipping from her grasp, and her heartbeat echoed in her ears, almost deafening her. Valerie snatched up the documents and the ring from the table and rushed towards Julian’s room. Ever since Brandon’s return, she and Julian had been sleeping in separate rooms. Valerie had said Brandon would misunderstand, that he would be upset. But she had never considered whether Julian would be sad, or upset, even though he was her fiancé. She should have realized then that it was just Brandon’s way of marking his territory. But she had foolishly believed that everything would get better once she and Julian were married, that she would change. But what was the reality? Valerie had only pushed Julian’s boundaries, only hurt him, time and time again. And all it took was a single word from Brandon. Seeing Valerie’s panicked state, Brandon secretly gloated, wondering if this meant his chance had finally arrived. “Valerie.” “Forget about him for now. Who knows where he’s gone off to.” Brandon walked up to Valerie, attempting to gently stop her, but she flung his arm away. The force of her push was not insignificant. Brandon stumbled, hitting the wall. A dull pain shot through his shoulder blade, making him wince and suck in a sharp breath. “Ow… that hurts.” The woman who should have immediately fussed over him, showering him with concern, now seemed deaf to his pain, not even sparing him a glance. Brandon put on his familiar pained and wronged expression, his brow slightly furrowed, his voice dropping. “Valerie, you hurt me…” In the past, if he ever showed the slightest discomfort, no matter what it was, Valerie would agree to anything. Even on their engagement night, when he asked Valerie to abandon Julian and come to him, she would do it. All past events proved that Valerie’s indulgence for him surpassed everything. But now Valerie was pushing him away like this. It was something he simply couldn’t accept. “Valerie!” Brandon called out again, his voice tinged with displeasure and a hint of almost imperceptible panic. Unwilling to bear the pain, he tried to catch up but, seeing he couldn’t, stopped, clutching the sore spot, his face pale. Someone stepped forward to express concern. “Brandon, are you okay?” “Where did you hit yourself? Is it serious?” Brandon shook his head, completely baffled by Valerie’s sudden coldness. He hesitated, then turned to look at his friend – Valerie’s secretary, who naturally knew Valerie’s affairs well. He blurted out, “It’s Valerie’s pre-nuptial agreement.” “Valerie’s grandmother made her sign it, and I was the one who delivered it to Mr. Julian for his signature. I don’t know why he never sent it for notarization to become legally binding.” “Could it be that he doesn’t want that trust fund?” The secretary looked completely astonished, as if she couldn’t comprehend it. Brandon, however, was secretly overjoyed. “Does that mean Julian isn’t going to marry Valerie now?” This was Julian giving up willingly. He had been preparing for a much longer wait to get what he wanted. Now that the opportunity was right in front of him, there was no reason not to seize it. He even thought that if Julian were there, he would “thank” him profusely for stepping aside. Seeing the barely concealed delight on his face, the secretary looked puzzled. “You’re happy they’re not getting married?” “Didn’t you always want them to get married?”

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Five years ago, Foster went bankrupt. Hounded by creditors, he was almost killed. He just said: “Chloe, please, help me.” I sold my heart for a million to pay off his debts, agreeing to have an experimental bionic heart implanted. But later, I found out the bankruptcy was fake. The real reason? To trick me into donating my heart to save his childhood sweetheart, Vivian. I left without a second thought, coming to this remote town of Maple Creek to be a teacher. Now, the side effects of that bionic heart are kicking in. I’m growing increasingly emotionally detached, becoming “Ms. Chloe, the robot,” as my students call me. I never imagined Foster would show up again, with a rosy-cheeked Vivian by his side. Vivian gasped, covering her mouth in feigned surprise, “Is that… Chloe?” She sighed dramatically: “Who would believe the former wife of the wealthiest man would hide in a backwater like this? And dressed so… shabbily.” Foster looked at my faded clothes, his eyes unreadable. “You left me over such a small thing, just because I lied to you, and now you’re living like this?” “Chloe, I told you I’d take care of you forever. You shouldn’t hate me.” Meeting him again, I felt nothing: “Mr. Foster, thank you for coming to donate to the community school and help the children.”

Foster’s eyes held a frustration I couldn’t decipher. “Chloe, enough! I know you still blame me, but you have to come back with me. I’ll make it up to you.” My gaze was completely calm. “You ripped out my heart for another woman, then put this defective piece of machinery in me. Now you talk about making it up to me?” Vivian immediately stepped forward, linking her arm through Foster’s, her voice sweet but sharp. “This bionic heart is the result of my medical professor’s research. It was rigorously tested during clinical trials. There are absolutely no side effects.” Foster’s gaze on Vivian remained soft. He turned to me, sighing. “Chloe, as long as you don’t take it out on Vivian, you can be Foster’s wife again.” I gently shook my head. “I stopped caring a long time ago. All I want now is to stay in Maple Creek.” Foster froze, his eyes dark and unreadable. Vivian caught Foster’s hesitation, a flicker of displeasure in her eyes, though her face twisted into a wronged expression. She clutched Foster’s arm, her eyes watery as she looked at me. “Chloe, I know you still resent me for using your heart, don’t you? I’ve felt so guilty all these years. What if… what if I just give you your heart back?!” Foster’s face darkened. He quickly pulled Vivian behind him, his eyes filled with wary defensiveness as he looked at me: “Vivian is allergic to metal; a bionic heart would kill her. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, would you?” “What happened back then was my fault. If you want to hate anyone, hate me. Don’t target her.” I stood my ground, my fingers curling, feeling the bionic heart beat a little erratically. I turned to leave, but Vivian, still sniffling, blocked my path. “But you clearly resent me for taking your heart.” Her voice was choked with tears. “Foster, let’s go. Since Ms. Chloe doesn’t welcome us, we won’t bother her any longer. The school… there’s no need to donate anymore.” The students peering from the windows instantly panicked, quietly calling out, “Ms. Chloe, don’t let them leave.” Seeing their wide, hopeful eyes, I knew I couldn’t betray their expectations. I silently turned, pulling out a stack of yellowed, well-worn letters from a drawer. These were the revised new school applications I’d written over and over for five years, along with the signed donation agreement. I handed them to Vivian. “Ms. Vivian, the students have been waiting for this school for a very long time. I hope you won’t withdraw your donation because of personal feelings.” A glint of ruthlessness flashed in Vivian’s eyes. “Foster, she’s using the children to emotionally manipulate me! We came here to donate, not to be disrespected!” The next second, she snatched the donation agreement, poised to tear it apart. 2. Seeing this, I quickly stepped forward to stop her. “You can’t tear it.” Vivian paused, raising an eyebrow at me mockingly. “Oh? So you’re anxious now? Why don’t you beg me?” I didn’t hesitate. “Fine, I beg you.” She didn’t know how many times I had practiced that pleading tone. As Vivian’s hand lifted again, I knelt, the cold concrete digging painfully into my knees. “Please.” All that so-called dignity and shame had long vanished, along with the heart I’d sold. Foster’s pupils constricted. He reached out to stop me, pulling me up forcefully, his voice low. “Chloe! What are you doing?!” He remembered the old me, too proud to ever easily bow her head. Now, she was kneeling for a donation agreement. A look of unbearable pity crossed his face. He turned to Vivian, his voice firm. “Give me the donation agreement. I won’t withdraw the donation for this community school.” Vivian saw Foster protecting me, and jealousy flared in her eyes. She pouted. “Fine, it’s not like I said I wouldn’t donate.” As she spoke, her hand suddenly relaxed, and the paper, caught by a gentle breeze, drifted into the nearby river ditch. Without a moment’s hesitation, I turned and jumped into the icy water. Foster’s face twisted in panic. Vivian clung to Foster’s arm, her voice soft. “My hand just slipped. It’s okay, Foster. Chloe knows how to swim; she’ll be right up.” But the water was bone-chilling. My bionic heart suddenly emitted a piercing hum, instantly malfunctioning. A suffocating sensation overwhelmed me. Foster waited for a moment, and when I didn’t surface, he began to take off his coat, preparing to jump in. “It’s too dangerous!” Vivian desperately pulled him back. “You’re a CEO, how can you take such a risk?!” Foster’s movements faltered. Reason returned, but looking at the calm surface of the water, his heart clenched. Just as he hesitated, I suddenly burst out of the water, clutching the drenched agreement tightly in my hand, my voice weak. “I found it.” Vivian scoffed. “You can clearly swim, so why didn’t you come out earlier? I bet you just wanted to get Foster’s attention!” Foster’s anger instantly ignited. He said coldly: “Chloe, purposefully delaying in the water, just to make me worry?” I was drenched and had no energy to respond. Struggling out of the river ditch, they finally saw that I was only wearing a thin single layer in the dead of winter. Foster’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He was angry and heartbroken. “Chloe, you left me just to live this hard life? Wouldn’t it be better to come back with me and be Foster’s wife again?” He took off his cashmere coat, reaching out to drape it over my shoulders. But I turned away, coldly rejecting his approach. Foster’s eyes darkened. At that moment, the students rushed over, putting their not-so-warm jackets on me, their small faces filled with worry. “Ms. Chloe, are you okay? We don’t want a new school if they don’t really want to donate.” Vivian’s face instantly changed. She stepped forward, scolding sharply: “What are you little brats talking about? Why are you all gathered here? Get back to class!” The children were intimidated by her aggressive tone, timidly backing away, but still watching me, their eyes full of concern. 3 The biting cold prevented the bionic heart from restarting. Intense pain instantly filled my chest, and a suffocating sensation drowned me like a tide. I bent over, my voice breaking. “Go to my room… get my medicine.” A student turned and ran off. Foster frowned, staring at me, his tone full of suspicion. “Chloe, are you really playing sick to avoid coming back with me? Is this some kind of game?” Vivian stood by, faking a check of my pupils and pulse. “Foster, I’m a medical doctor. I can responsibly tell you, she’s fine. I know all the specs of that bionic heart; these symptoms simply don’t occur. She’s faking it.” But the excruciating pain made me curl up on the ground, my skin flushing an unnatural red. Every breath was a tearing agony. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood. Though I had long been prepared for my bionic heart to fail, ready to leave this world at any moment. But not now… I still needed to see the new school built, to see these children find their way out of this mountain town. As my breathing grew weaker, Foster finally panicked. He was about to step forward when Vivian blocked him. “I’m a doctor, let me handle this.” She rummaged through her bag, pulled out a white pill, and put it in my mouth. After a while, the intense pain throughout my body actually gradually subsided, and my breathing became smoother. Foster sighed in relief, looking at Vivian with profound gratitude. “Thank goodness for you, Vivian.” I lay on the ground, gazing at the gray sky, feeling my bionic heart resume its beating. Principal Miller rushed over. Seeing my state, he quickly helped me up. “Ms. Chloe, please go rest in your room. Change your clothes. The donation ceremony is in three hours.” Back in my dilapidated dorm, with its peeling walls and sparse furnishings. Back then, before the side effects fully manifested, I often cried myself to sleep, my heart feeling like a piece had been brutally ripped out. But later, the bionic heart’s side effects completely took over, stripping away all my emotions. Love and hate became blurred concepts, leaving only indifference. A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I collapsed onto the bed, quickly falling asleep. Three hours later, Foster’s knocking woke me up. I opened the door. He frowned, urging me, “The donation ceremony is about to begin. As a teacher, how can you be absent?” Before he finished speaking, his gaze fell on the dilapidated, simple room. His pupils constricted, and a complex wave of emotion flooded his face. At the community school donation ceremony, Foster and Vivian stood side by side on stage. Principal Miller couldn’t help but praise them. “You two are truly a perfect match, and so generous! A couple made in heaven!” Foster’s brow furrowed. He explained in a low voice: “We are not married.” Vivian, however, tightened her grip on his arm, her smile gentle. “Foster, we’re getting married next year. What’s the difference?” Foster didn’t respond, remaining silent. During the donation segment, Principal Miller held the microphone, excitedly saying: “Thank you, Mr. Foster and Ms. Vivian, for your generous donation of one hundred million dollars. The children of Maple Creek will forever remember your kindness.” When it was time for the flower presentation, I walked onto the stage holding a bouquet. They were the esteemed donors, the center of attention. I was just a teacher tasked with presenting flowers, like an inconspicuous usher. As I reached the front of the stage, my bionic heart suddenly throbbed violently. My legs buckled, unable to support me. I stumbled straight forward, colliding directly with Vivian.

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For ten years, I built my life around Julian Evans, a man six years my junior. He hated condoms, but promised he’d marry me the day I got pregnant. On Christmas Eve, I held a positive pregnancy test, planning to surprise him. Instead, I saw him wrapped around a younger girl outside a bar, kissing her passionately. His friends laughed and cheered them on. “Julian’s got good taste! Chloe is so young and hot!” “You should’ve seen it. When Julian brought up marriage, that desperate Stella practically launched herself at him.” “Even if Stella did get knocked up, she’d be nothing next to Chloe. Am I right?” I clutched the pregnancy test in my hand, my fingers digging in, my knuckles white. I could barely breathe. Julian chuckled dismissively. “Are you kidding? Who’d be stupid enough to marry his old practice girl?” “Julian’s only with that old lady because she’s loaded and does whatever he says. The age thing? That was never a factor.” “Can’t even imagine her in bed. It’s gotta be stale.” I stood rooted to the spot, the blood in my veins turning to ice. Old woman. Sugar mama. I’d never thought those words would come from Julian. Not from his mouth. “Big night, Julian! Aren’t you spending Christmas Eve with Chloe?” My phone screen lit up. A text message from Julian popped up. “Working late. Don’t wait up.” I stared at the words, a sick, cold dread tightening around my chest. My pale face stared back from the dark screen. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes tonight, I would never have believed that every “working late” was a lie. Julian pulled the girl onto his lap, his hand gripping the back of her head as he kissed her like he was drowning. “Stella’s pathetic,” someone cut in. “Just end it. Dragging it out is crueler.” Julian pulled back, lighting a cigarette. The rising smoke blurred his expression. “She loved me for ten years. She helped me build this from nothing. She gave me her youth.If I dump her now, she’ll break. Just give it a little more time.” A ringing filled my ears. I hurled the pregnancy test into the trash, grabbed a bottle, and charged at their booth. The glass exploded against Julian’s skull. Shards rained down as a dark line of blood snaked from his temple. I blinked. Then the tears came, hot and sudden, against my will. Julian went rigid. He shoved Chloe Miller off his lap as if shocked by a live wire. “Baby, what are you… what are you doing here?” Chloe glanced at me sideways, a smirk tugging at her lips. “It was just a joke, Stella. Don’t tell me you’re that petty?” Julian’s face darkened. “Shut up!” Ignoring the blood on his face, he gently wiped away my tears. His voice softened. “It was all just a game, don’t take it seriously.” “Don’t cry, I’ll take you home to celebrate Christmas Eve right now, okay?” Chloe, teary-eyed, tugged on his arm. “What about me?” “She ruined our Christmas Eve! Typical old hag, always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong!” Julian turned his back, shrugging dismissively, his fingers flying across his phone in his guy’s SnapChat group. “Can’t help it. Older women are just petty and hot-headed.” “I’ll go back and handle her.” I turned and walked away. My chest ached, numb. My mother’s words suddenly echoed clearly in my mind. “Stella, was it really worth giving up your family fortune for a man who had nothing?” “If he truly loved you, he would have married you already. Why wait until now?” “Listen to your mom, come back and agree to the arranged marriage.” I wiped away my tears, pulled out my phone, and called my mother. “Mom, I was wrong. I’ll come back soon. The marriage… I’ll do whatever you say.”

Half an hour later, Julian found me on the rooftop. He always knew. Whenever we fought, I’d hide up here, letting the cold wind clear my head, forcing myself to calm down. He rushed over like a madman, pulling me away from the edge of the stairs. We stumbled, falling to the ground. His embrace was warm, but my heart was utterly cold. Without a word, a torrent of accusations rained down on me. “Stella, are you out of your mind?!” “It was just a joke! Did you really have to try and jump?” I froze. “What?” He reined in his anger, his voice softening. “Good thing you’re okay…” He sighed, pulling me to my feet and holding me tight. “My silly girl, how could I ever think you’re old? I’ve just been so busy lately… Once this period is over, we’ll get married.” “Besides, in my heart, you’ll always be my eighteen-year-old princess.” As he said this, his face held a rare tenderness. It was as if the humiliating scene at the bar had never happened. I suddenly couldn’t tell which side was the real him. But none of it mattered anymore. Suddenly, he pulled a cake from behind him. “Today marks ten years since we got together.” “The first year I started the company, I got taken for everything. Everyone laughed. They said I deserved it. But you never left. You believed in me when I had nothing.” “Without you, I would have given up.” “Money was so tight back then, but I always got you the cake.” “No matter how hard it got, I couldn’t let my little princess go without.” “Stella, you’re my life. Thank God…we made it.” His voice was low, hoarse, with a barely perceptible catch. So, he remembered. He remembered all those dark, cold winters in that damp basement, with me by his side, when he couldn’t see the light. He had everything now. And the first thing he wanted was to replace me. “Make a wish.” he said, his eyes bright with expectation. I met his gaze, my voice level. “Let’s break up.” Splat. The cake hit the floor. The two little frosting figures, once nestled side by side, split cleanly apart. Just like us. The tenderness in his face cracked, then fell away completely-shock flooding in, chased instantly by a scalding rage. “Stella, you better not regret this!” He turned and stormed downstairs, heading home. He trashed the apartment we’d decorated together as our future home. He ripped up our photos, smashed the clay figurines we’d made together… The final crash was him slamming the door shut as he stormed out. Thirty minutes later, Julian, who almost never posted on Ins, updated his story for the first time ever. “Clothes are best new, and so are women.” The photo showed him and Chloe locked in a passionate kiss beneath a sky full of fireworks. I forced out a cold laugh. Casually, I liked it and commented, “Congrats.” A friend request popped up on my phone. I recognized Chloe’s profile picture immediately. “Thanks for giving him back to me.” Julian called right away, his voice harsh. “What do you mean?” “Exactly what it sounds like. Congrats on getting back together.” “You’re the one who broke up with me. Don’t come crying back, begging me to return!” Julian’s voice returned to its usual nonchalant tone. He probably thought I was just playing games, and casually hung up. I had naively thought that even if the whole world turned against me, he wouldn’t. But the truth was, I had been so utterly wrong.

Looking around the house that once held so much promise, it suddenly felt foreign. This was never my home. That night, I tossed and turned in the messy apartment, unable to sleep. That year, Julian worked six jobs a day, just to get us out of that dark, dismal basement. Now, we could afford the most luxurious homes, but some things could never be bought back. For ten whole years, I’d been used to revolving my entire life around him, giving him everything I had. And now, it was time to let go. Tears streaming down my face, I burned all our photos. All the keepsakes holding our memories went into the trash too. I pulled out my phone and booked an abortion for the next day. But in the hospital hallway, I ran into Julian and Chloe. Unlike before, there was no hysteria this time. I pretended not to see them, not caring why they were there. Julian walked over, sneering. “Didn’t we agree it was over? What’s this? Stalking me now?” “You flatter yourself.” I didn’t bother to look up. “Stella, just say the word, beg me, and I’ll come back.” A cold laughter burst out of me at his nonchalant expression. Those words. He’d said the exact same thing five years ago, the day I caught him. The day I caught Julian cheating was my birthday, and also the day I had my first miscarriage. I had hidden the ultrasound photo inside a gift box. I’d booked a hotel room, decorated it with care, dreaming of a perfect surprise. But when I opened the door to our floor, I saw him with another woman, heading into the room next door. In that moment, I charged forward like a madwoman. I grabbed her hair, slapping her hard several times. Then I repeatedly punched Julian’s chest, breaking down in tears. “Why?! Why are you doing this to me?!” He frowned, pushing me away. “Enough! Acting like a lunatic, aren’t you ashamed?” “Can you stop being so dramatic?” “What successful man doesn’t have a few women on the side?” He wanted me to kneel and beg him. Looking at his cold face, I panicked completely. I was so insecure, terrified of losing him, and even more terrified of my child growing up without a father. In the end, I spoke in a hushed, pleading voice. “I’m pregnant…” “Just cut ties with her, and I can pretend none of this ever happened.” A sinister flicker crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a gentle expression. He helped me back home, doting on me, preparing nutritious meals. But that night, without any warning, I miscarried. We both thought it was because I was too weak, compounded by extreme emotional distress. He held me tight, kneeling on the floor, crying as he apologized. “I’m so sorry, Stella, it’s all my fault…” “I’ve already ended things with her.” “I swear, I’ll only ever be good to you, never again.” I was so stupid to believe him. Thinking back, that woman was Chloe all along! For five years, they were never truly apart! The hospital announcement called my name, pulling me from my memories. I turned to leave, Julian’s disdainful voice trailing behind me. “Let’s see how long you can keep up that tough act!” I swallowed all my tears and lay on the operating table. I wondered if the baby would have looked like me. But now, there was nothing… When I walked out of the hospital, my face was utterly devoid of color. I opened my phone, and a car surveillance video popped up.

In the video, two intertwined figures were eagerly tearing at each other’s clothes. “If I got pregnant, would you drug me to miscarry, just like you did to Stella?” Chloe pressed a finger to Julian’s lips. “How could she ever compare to you? Old and boring. You’re my sweetheart.” “If it wasn’t for her status as a Hayes heiress, how could I have endured that old hag for so many years?” “Once we’re married in a few days, we’ll figure out how to completely ruin her health. Then everything from the Hayes family will be ours.” Julian eagerly pinned her hands behind her back, his movements growing more intense. Heavy breathing filled my ears, mingled with the sounds of their bodies colliding. Tears fell uncontrollably onto the phone screen. My throat felt constricted, unable to make a sound. So, my first miscarriage was never an accident. Julian didn’t just want my support; he wanted to take everything from me, to essentially inherit my family’s fortune and discard me! I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, trembling as I saved the video. Soon after, the police station called. “Miss Hayes, a vehicle registered to you is involved in an assault. We need you to come in for questioning.” I rushed to the police station. The front of my Bentley was utterly wrecked. It was my 30th birthday gift to myself, truly special. The police said the person hit was still in the hospital. Chloe, snuggled into Julian’s embrace, tearfully recounted her story to the officers. “I really didn’t mean to hit anyone. We were… in the car at the time. I panicked and accidentally hit the gas instead of the brake.” “Besides, this isn’t even my car.” All my rage exploded. I clenched my fists and lunged, slapping Chloe hard across the face. “Ah!” Her head snapped to the side, a bright red handprint blooming on her cheek. Julian ignored my pale face, immediately shielding Chloe behind him. His face grim, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the police station. “Stella, are you insane?! This is a police station! How dare you hit Chloe!” “What were you two doing in my car?” I stared straight at him. His eyes flickered away, but Chloe’s sobbing instantly ignited his fury. “It’s just an old car! How many years have you had it? Why are you still treating it like a treasure?” “Stella, you’re older, you should be more mature! More magnanimous!” “The girl was publicly humiliated. You’d be smart to take the fall for her, after all, it’s your car!” I raised my hand and slapped him. “Julian, you bastard!” I could barely believe those words came from his mouth. He once said, “I’ll never let you suffer even the slightest grievance.” “I’ll give you the best future, promise you the most magnificent wedding.” The vows had long rotted away. The young man who once loved me like his own life was long dead. He froze for a second, then his tone grew even colder: “I’ll get you a top lawyer. You’ll only be in jail for a few days anyway.” “Chloe isn’t like you. She’s so timid; if she went in, she wouldn’t want to live once she got out.” “Dream on!” I shrieked, my voice raw, and turned to leave. “Stop her!” “Don’t let her get away!” Julian’s bodyguards rushed over, twisted my arms behind my back, and pinned me to the cold ground. Smack! Smack! Julian’s hand came down twice, hard. The blows cracked against my cheek, and I tasted blood at the corner of my mouth. A sharp, pulling pain tore through my lower abdomen, locking my body in a violent tremble. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, glaring at him. Julian calmly wiped my blood from his hand. “I told you not to touch her!” Before I could move, he seized my wrist, forced my thumb down, and pressed my print onto the statement. “When you get out, we’ll get married.” I watched Julian walk away with Chloe, tears and blood streaking down my face. My fists clenched until my nails bit into my own palms. I threw my head back and laughed, a raw, ugly sound ripped from my throat. It turned into a cough, and I tasted blood. A whole week crawled by before Julian finally remembered I existed. He stood outside the police station, bouquet and diamond ring in hand. He waited from dawn till dusk, but I never showed. A passing officer informed him. “Don’t you know? Miss Hayes was picked up by her fiancé days ago.” Julian froze. Then his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a news alert. His pupils shrank to pinpoints. For the very first time, raw, gut-wrenching fear flooded his eyes!

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My wife was a master of the silent treatment. A flicker of unhappiness, a slammed door, and she’d be gone for ten days, sometimes half a month. I’d grown used to it, used to adjusting my emotions, smiling, and taking care of our son. Until the day I was helping Leo with his homework and saw his wish. “I wish Dad would disappear.” “He’s so scary when he loses it with Mom.” From that moment on, I finally woke up. Sunday nights were always the hardest to stomach. My procrastinating son was bawling his eyes out, trying to finish tomorrow’s homework, while Scarlett, the queen of the silent treatment, had her headphones on, lost in her game, probably having the time of her life. No one wanted anything to do with me. Leo, after being scolded by me, glared at me with resentment. Scarlett, annoyed, pretended I didn’t exist. I stood by the dining table, clearing the dinner mess, silently convincing myself it was all my own doing. But my heart ached unbearably. Late that night, Scarlett retreated to the study, Leo finally fell asleep with tears still clinging to his eyelashes, and I stood in the bathroom, staring at my exhausted reflection. This was the third month Scarlett and I had been locked in this silent battle. Three full months, long enough for me to almost forget what started it. Under the same roof, she hadn’t said a word to me, and I stubbornly held my ground, silently declaring war right back. She was in the wrong; I wouldn’t apologize, but I couldn’t sleep. I walked into Leo’s bedroom to pack his school bag. I looked down, and then I saw the new notebook I’d bought him lying on his desk. In the ‘Wishes & Rewards’ section, written in his childish handwriting: “I wish Dad would disappear.” I rubbed my eyes, my first thought being that I’d misread it. Clutching the notebook, I walked into the living room. I read the line again. “I wish Dad would disappear.” “He’s so scary when he loses it with Mom, he drove Mom away.” I collapsed onto the couch, feeling a hollow ache I’d never known before, a pain so deep it turned into numbness. The study light flickered on, and Scarlett emerged, a radiant smile on her face – that spring-breeze glow she usually reserved for others. The moment her eyes landed on me, it vanished, replaced by her usual glacial stare. She said nothing, picked up her car keys from the coffee table. As she walked past me, I caught the faint scent of her perfume. Gardenia. I’d picked it out for her in college when we were dating. Back then, she was just a girl who wore black-framed glasses and T-shirts with jeans, never bothering with makeup. I slowly helped her discover a new style, and chose my favorite perfume for her. “Wearing perfume to meet people always leaves a good impression.” She’d said she’d cherish everything I chose for her. And she’d been using it ever since. The familiar scent slowly prised open my heart, and sweet memories of our past flooded my mind. I thought of our ridiculous war, of my deeply loved son. The pain Leo brought me made me desperately search for a point of leverage. I was about to give in to Scarlett again. I couldn’t stop myself from standing up, grabbing her arm tightly. “Scarlett, let’s talk, properly.” She shook off my hand. I saw her phone screen lit up, showing an active call. It was late. Who was she talking to this late, and why had she specifically put on perfume to meet them? “Scarlett, are you heading out? I’m waiting downstairs. Seriously craving some BBQ.” A young man’s voice came through the phone. His clear, youthful voice instantly reminded me of what started this silent treatment. I quickly turned to walk away, but Scarlett grabbed me back. A slight smirk played on her lips, her eyebrow arching. “Beg me, and I’ll stay with you and Leo.” She always loved seeing me broken, begging for her mercy, especially now, with another young man vying for her attention. Her staying would be a mere condescending charity.

A bitter laugh escaped me. “Beg you? Was Leo born solely from me? Aren’t you his mother?” “Is caring for our child my responsibility alone? Don’t you have any?” “Do you even realize how messed up our son’s mind is right now?” Scarlett frowned again, pressing her lips together. She looked at me like I was insane, snatched her coat, and slammed the door shut behind her. Leo’s notebook, with his wish for me to disappear, was still on the couch. Scarlett had left the study light on. It was always like this. Whenever there was a problem to solve, she’d either lightly fan the flames, watching me lose my mind, or she’d simply ignore everything, turn around, and slam the door. The slamming door woke Leo. He padded out of his room barefoot, standing at the doorway, staring in the direction his mom had left. He walked over to me, picking up the notebook I’d tossed on the couch. He didn’t seem worried that I’d seen what was inside, only frowned and accused me. “Dad, why did you make Mom angry again?” I ignored him. Downstairs, a car engine rumbled to life. After a few powerful revs, a black car peeled out, disappearing into the night. Tomorrow, I’d have to bike Leo to school again. I looked at the notebook clutched in Leo’s hand. And those eyes, so much like his mother’s. For the first time, I profoundly realized how trapped I’d been by her all this time. I dragged myself into the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. I closed my eyes, and “Dad disappear” appeared before me in bold letters. Honestly, I’d never once lost my temper or yelled at Leo. To avoid conflict, I’d even gone to great lengths, sacrificing my dignity to appease Scarlett. I’d begged Scarlett to come home, begged her to hug our son. I couldn’t sleep. My phone screen lit up on the nightstand. A SnapChat message from my neighbor, Mark Sullivan. “Heard your wife slammed the door and left again. You two fighting? You okay?” Mark and I had met when I was selling my handmade items on eBay. Back then, Scarlett was giving me the silent treatment, cutting off my allowance to force me to give in. I had no income and had to pick up odd jobs to make ends meet. As it turned out, we were neighbors. He even bought my stuff, supported my small business, and checked in on me. I heard Leo close his bedroom door. I replied: “Thanks, Mark, I’m fine.” I woke up the next morning feeling utterly drained. My eyes were swollen almost shut. Scarlett was back, the lingering gardenia scent now completely drowned out by the heavy smell of alcohol. She noticed me, her gaze lingering on my face for only a second before darting away. This wasn’t the silent treatment; she frowned, walked into the bathroom, making thinly veiled jabs. “Seriously, who are you trying to scare looking like that?” I knew she was waiting for me to snap back, to watch me lose it, and then she’d leave again, indifferent. But I was tired. I said nothing. She looked at me, a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place in her eyes. Then, with an overly affectionate smile, she went into Leo’s bedroom. “Come on, sweetheart, Mom’s taking you to school today.” Two completely different attitudes, as if she were two different people. They walked out hand-in-hand, chatting intimately. No one cared about me. It felt like two sharp blades piercing my heart.

When I opened the door to take out the trash, I ran into Mark. He saw me and practically pulled me inside his apartment. He handed me an ice pack wrapped in a towel, his eyes filled with concern, his brow furrowed. “You doing okay?” His concern reminded me of Scarlett when we first got married. Back then, Scarlett and I were broke. In a city like NYC, where every square foot cost a fortune, all we could afford was a tiny, rundown basement apartment. We squeezed onto a small bed, and the bathroom and kitchen were shared, quite a distance from our room. One day, I’d just finished cooking and was carrying the dishes to our room when I collided with someone rushing past. I instinctively angled the hot dish toward myself, and a large patch of skin on the back of my hand was badly scalded. When Scarlett came home from work, I was afraid she’d worry, so I wore gloves. But she still noticed. I quickly pulled my hand back, smiling, saying it didn’t hurt at all. Scarlett looked at my hand, fumbling to apply ointment. Back then, her eyes were red too, tears flowing endlessly. She cried, rubbing her eyes, “Daniel Miller, I promise I’ll give you the best life in the world someday!” That night, she held me, talking softly all through the night. “Daniel, I won’t let you get hurt again.” Even now, I believe she truly loved me then. But when did she change? Now, she and I were like two ticking time bombs, strapped together. The smallest friction, and we could explode at any moment. Of course, Scarlett was the silent type of bomb, a dud that didn’t explode with a bang but rather released a terrifying, suffocating smoke that seeped into every corner of my life. It made me gasp for air, made me want to scream until my throat was raw. When I got home, they were already gone. The kitchen was cold, and on the wet bathroom floor lay Leo’s discarded clothes. There were several dirty shoe prints in the living room. I sat on the couch and opened my laptop. I started drafting the divorce papers. My education was just as good as Scarlett’s. Before becoming a stay-at-home dad, I graduated from a prestigious university, passed the bar exam, got my license, and worked as a practicing attorney for two years. I used to pull in a six-figure income, won many cases for my clients, and was a rising star in my field. The turning point came after Scarlett got pregnant. She was at the most crucial, high-stakes phase of her career, with a brand-new, incredibly demanding project landed squarely on her shoulders. That meant frequent business trips, endless meetings, and being on call constantly. One late night, she came home, dragging her tired body, and held me in silence for a long time. Then she said, “Daniel, I’ve done the math. My income is going to grow fast, and the project bonuses are substantial. But if both of us are pushing ourselves this hard, what happens when the baby comes? Leave them with a nanny? Can you really do that?” She looked into my eyes, her voice gentle yet firm. “I know this isn’t fair to you. But a reliable nanny outside would cost almost as much as your current after-tax salary. And… who could be as dedicated as a biological dad?” I wavered. She seized the moment, taking my hand. “Just a few years. Once this project stabilizes and I’ve established myself, we can hire a professional household assistant. Then you can go back to work. With your abilities, I know you’ll be fine. For now, let’s consider this a strategic division of labor for our future, okay?” She gently placed my hand on her swollen belly. “See? The baby needs their dad too.” That one sentence shattered all my defenses. I was overwhelmed by a sense of being intensely needed, even “sanctified.” I envisioned myself as the indispensable, powerful father providing security for our child. When I submitted my resignation, my mentor sadly patted my shoulder. “Daniel, think carefully. Once you leave this legal world, it’s incredibly tough to get back in.” I just smiled, my heart full of anticipation for my new role. Looking back, Scarlett’s silent treatment began subtly around that time. Perhaps when I truly shed my professional identity and spent my days revolving around bottles and diapers, the “sharpness” she once admired in me faded. I slowly transformed from a “partner in arms” to merely an “appendage dependent on her income.” And her change in attitude was like a dull knife slowly carving away at me, little by little, eroding my sense of self-worth.

It was almost evening by the time I finished drafting the divorce papers. Scarlett hadn’t brought Leo home yet. Out of habit, I started worrying about Leo’s homework, then I raised my hand and slapped myself hard. “Even as a dad, I need to be tough. Like his mom.” Then Scarlett called. But the voice on the other end was Caleb’s. “Daniel, it’s me. Scarlett’s had too much to drink and can’t get home by herself. Can you come pick her up?” “You take her home, you two seem pretty close, don’t you?” I glanced at the divorce papers on the table, then changed my mind. “Forget it, I’ll go get her.” I hung up and rushed to the party room as fast as I could. Inside, it was a chaotic mix of people. Besides Caleb, who had called me, everyone else was a stranger. But they all stared at me, their eyes filled with accusation, as if blaming me for not being a good stay-at-home dad. Scarlett was sitting at the head of the table, her face flushed, still raising an empty glass to drink. Leo was next to her, his schoolbag tossed on the floor. Caleb, looking trendy as always, had Leo perched on his lap, chatting away with him. So this was how she took care of our son. No wonder my years of slogging away at home, raising Leo, couldn’t hold a candle to her occasional ‘fun’ outings. I hadn’t even stepped fully inside when Leo shrieked. “Mom, I’m not going home with Dad! Dad’s just going to make me do homework again!” Leo started screaming, dodging around like I was a monster, which finally prompted Scarlett to pretend to open her eyes. “Don’t worry, sweetie, Mom’s here.” Then, someone else in the room started lecturing me with earnest advice. “Daniel, don’t hold a grudge with Scarlett. She’s been crashing at my place for nearly two months now because of you.” “Mine too! Scarlett’s been staying at my house for almost a month, my husband’s even started complaining.” Caleb, who was still by Scarlett’s side, stepped forward. “Daniel, when Scarlett and I talk, she often mentions you and Leo. She really does care about you guys.” That’s when I realized this call wasn’t really for me to pick up Scarlett. They wanted me to break down, get on my knees, apologize to Scarlett, and beg her to come home. I scoffed. “Always with these ‘poor me’ stories. Can’t she just come home herself? Doesn’t she have legs?” “I work my ass off taking care of our son at home, but that’s not ‘suffering.’ She throws a fit and slams the door, and that’s suffering?” “If living it up outside is ‘suffering,’ then maybe you and I should switch places, Scarlett. Stop pretending to be drunk.” “Do you want me to talk about what you’ve done in private, or right here, in front of everyone?” Caleb, who was still beside her, instantly paled. “Daniel, those were all misunderstandings.” Misunderstandings? Fooling around and almost cheating on me while drunk, and when I confronted her, she couldn’t answer, so she gave me the silent treatment instead. Scarlett’s face turned cold again, and she said nothing. She shot Leo a dark look, and he instantly slumped, dragging his feet towards me. As he walked, he kept looking back longingly at Scarlett, hoping she’d call him back. That way, he could keep playing and wouldn’t have to do schoolwork. It was her subtle way of telling me to get lost, taking Leo with me. She wanted to stay here and enjoy herself. Why was it always like this? I was completely fed up. I stood my ground, pulling out the divorce papers.

“Scarlett, we’re getting a divorce.” The noisy room instantly fell silent. Scarlett Hayes finally looked up at me. Her eyes were predictably clear and sharp. Seven years of marriage, no matter how bad our fights got, I had never once mentioned divorce. Scarlett knew my personality: once I decided on something, there was no turning back. She rose from the leather couch in a panic, covering the distance between us in a few steps. “Are you serious?” She was finally willing to look me in the eye and speak normally. She looked down at Leo, then scoffed, “Daniel, if you want a divorce, you’re not getting Leo. He’d rather be with me anyway.” “Stop messing around.” Scarlett was convinced I’d fight for Leo. She wasn’t blind; she knew how much I’d endured and suffered for him over the years. Leo clung tightly to his mother, glaring at me with resentment, as if terrified I’d snatch him away. “Dad, I don’t want you. I want Mom.” Caleb also walked over, a knowing smirk on his face as he advised me. “Daniel, at your age, without a house or a job, you won’t get custody of Leo.” “Just take Leo home. There’s no point staying mad at each other overnight.” I clenched my jaw, my knuckles white on the divorce papers. I knew what I’d face when I came here, but seeing everyone’s disdain and disapproval still made me falter. But no. I pinched myself hard. I reminded myself: Daniel, you have to be ruthless. Softness is a weakness to those who love you, but to those who don’t, it’s just a joke. “Scarlett, don’t worry.” “When we divorce, I don’t want Leo, and I don’t want the house.”

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At the family banquet, my mother ordered the guards to drag me to the center of the hall. “She’s a fraud,” she said calmly. “Strip her of any claim to this family and apologize to your sister.” My brothers stood beside her, watching as my adopted cousin wore my gown, took my seat, and accepted the congratulations meant for me. They accused me of stealing her identity, her engagement, even her place in this family. In my past life, I was cast out as a disgrace that night and died alone. This time, as their voices rose in accusation again, I smiled. They didn’t know—I remembered everything. When my brothers let their foster sister live my life, they thought I’d just accept it. Given another chance, I’d make sure she faced every consequence. When I was eight, the family seer declared my fate was “too fragile” for the capital. So, they sent me away to live in seclusion at Solitude Peak, a place rich with ancient energies. I was supposed to stay until I turned eighteen. But when I finally returned to the family estate, I discovered the truth: For ten years, my so-called loving brothers had let their adopted foster sister, Mirabelle, live in my place, pretending to be me. At the birthday gala of my fiancé, she had the gall to push it even further. Mirabelle snatched the token of our engagement—a gift from my uncle, the King himself—and held it up for the room to see. Pointing at me, she announced, her voice dripping with false sympathy: “Lord Theron, I’m so sorry for this scene. Our… ward here doesn’t know her place. She dared to steal the engagement token the King gifted to us. She even tried to use it to impersonate me and deceive you. Don’t worry, once we’re home, my brothers will see to it she learns proper manners.” If this had been my previous life, I would’ve swallowed the humiliation, desperate to win a shred of approval from my brothers and their darling “sister.” But not this time. Because this time… I had been reborn. I stepped forward, snatched the engagement token from her hand, and threw it to the marble floor with a sharp crack. Then, I slapped her across the face. The sound was so crisp the room fell dead silent. “Mirabelle,” I said, my voice cold and clear in the sudden quiet, “you dare take what’s mine? You must be tired of your comfortable little life.” Everyone froze, stunned by my actions. The silence was thick with shock as people exchanged uneasy glances. Mirabelle, however, was completely thrown. She stumbled back, landing hard on the floor. For a split second, raw, venomous anger flashed in her eyes, but it vanished instantly, replaced by her usual wounded-doe act. She clutched her reddening cheek as tears pooled in her eyes. “Elara,” she whimpered, her voice trembling perfectly, “I know you’ve… admired Lord Theron from afar, but you and he… you’re from different worlds. Please, don’t humiliate yourself like this.” “Different worlds?” I echoed, taking another step forward. My gaze pinned her as I looked down at her carefully arranged misery on the floor. A cold smirk touched my lips. “My mother was a princess of the royal bloodline. My father is Alistair Blackwood, the Duke of Ravenswood, a man whose victories on the battlefield are legendary. My uncle is the King of this realm. I am the trueborn heiress of House Blackwood. And Theron?” I scoffed. “He’s the son of a minor baron. You’re right, Mirabelle—we are worlds apart.” “Elara! How dare you twist the truth like that!” The voice belonged to my youngest brother, Leo, who rushed over, his face a mask of panic. Close behind was my third brother, Marcus, who immediately bent to help Mirabelle up. “Mirabelle, are you alright?” Leo asked, his voice oozing concern as he cupped her face. His brows were knitted with worry, his tone soft as if she were spun glass. Mirabelle gave a weak shake of her head, tears brimming beautifully. She looked up at him with an expression so pitiful it could melt stone. Marcus, meanwhile, turned to Lord Theron with a composed yet stern look. “Lord Theron,” he said, his voice steady and authoritative, “Elara was a charity case in the Blackwood household. My father, out of mercy, took her in as a foster daughter. Clearly, she’s forgotten her place. She’s delusional enough to believe she could pass for a noblewoman—let alone your future wife. Allow me to summon my elder brothers. We’ll handle this matter according to family law.” At his gesture, a servant hurried off to fetch my eldest brothers, Edmund and Julian. The crowd, already buzzing, erupted into louder whispers, their words sharp and cruel. “She’s an imposter! Claiming to be the Duke’s daughter? The nerve!” “I heard the late Duchess loved her true daughter so much she traveled the kingdom, healing and praying for her. Can you imagine her fury seeing this fraud?” “And the Duke himself—he’ll be livid when he hears his real daughter was mistreated. He’ll make that girl regret the day she was born.” “Not to mention the four Blackwood brothers. They dote on Lady Mirabelle. They won’t let this slide.” “If I were her, I’d be groveling at Mirabelle’s feet right now, begging forgiveness.” “Just a country bumpkin trying to play dress-up. A crow in peacock’s feathers. Disgusting.” I let out a soft, humorless laugh, amused by the ridiculous gossip. They weren’t entirely wrong, though. When my parents returned and learned the truth, neither Mirabelle nor my so-called brothers would escape the fallout. Theron stepped forward then, aligning himself with Mirabelle and my brothers, his expression one of smug self-righteousness. “Of course, I take your word, Marcus,” he said, his tone eager to please. “Mirabelle is the very picture of grace and kindness. Someone like her,” he jerked his chin dismissively at me, “could never be the real thing.” He turned to Mirabelle, his gaze softening as he checked her over. Satisfied she wasn’t seriously hurt, he turned his disdain back on me. “And you,” Theron said, contempt dripping from every word, “just two nights ago, you came to me with that token, spinning tales of being the true heiress. Did you honestly think I’d believe you? I’ve known Mirabelle for years—her gentle heart, her noble bearing. And you?” He scoffed, his lip curling. “You’ve been playing a role for so long you’ve forgotten you’re nothing but a stray dressed up for the ball.” Perfect. Everything was unfolding exactly as I’d planned. Theron, oh Theron, if you hadn’t taken the bait and insulted me so thoroughly, how else was I to shatter this pathetic engagement?

When the old Baron Wynthor died and Theron’s family fortunes dwindled under his uninspired leadership, the once-proud House Wynthor grew desperate. That’s when they latched onto the might of House Blackwood, hoping to salvage their crumbling status through a marital alliance. In my previous life, Theron petitioned my uncle, the King, relentlessly for our betrothal decree. His performance of devotion fooled my uncle into granting his consent, gifting us a pair of matching signet rings as a symbol. At the time, I was far away, training in isolation at Solitude Peak. When the rings arrived, I was shocked. But my uncle had a good eye for character, and Theron’s reputation as a handsome, competent young lord was widespread. Imagine my devastation when I returned home to find Theron wrapped around Mirabelle, my so-called foster sister, showering her with affection. For the first time, I ignored my brothers’ warnings and secretly revealed my true identity to Theron, hoping he’d set things right. But he flew into a rage. He ran straight to my brothers, who, terrified Mirabelle’s deception—and their own complicity—would be exposed before our parents returned, decided on a permanent solution. They beat me to death with cudgels beyond the city walls. My body was left unburied, torn apart by scavengers by morning. After my death, the King was furious. Theron, ever the actor, knelt before the throne with tears on his face, swearing he’d always loved me, that he’d been deceived by villains. Such a man… a liar and a coward. Not the husband my uncle had envisioned. Mirabelle, the fool, thought marrying into the Barony meant endless wealth and status, blind to the fact Theron’s house was already on the brink of collapse. What a joke. Now, in this life, the crowd stood firmly on Mirabelle’s side. She shot me a fleeting, triumphant glance before demurely lowering her gaze. Her voice, sweet and soft, carried just the right note of heartbreak: “Elara, I’ve always thought of you as a sister. How could you betray me like this? Pretending to be me just to marry Theron… Don’t you care how much this hurts?” She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, her face a masterpiece of betrayed innocence. Her act was so convincing a wave of sympathetic murmurs swept the room. “Sister?” I sneered, my voice icy. “You think you’ve earned that title?” I stepped forward, my gaze sharp as a honed blade. “From the day you were brought into this house as a foster daughter, you’ve coveted everything that belonged to me. And every time, I let you have it. My dresses, my jewels, my books—whatever you wanted, I gave it. Even when you mistreated the staff, I covered for you, afraid my brothers would send you away if they knew. “And how do you repay me, Mirabelle? By stealing my betrothed?” I laughed coldly, the sound cutting through the whispers. “Your greed has no bottom.” Tears welled in Mirabelle’s eyes. She bit her lip, trembling like a leaf in a storm. The sight made the spectators’ hearts soften further. “Mirabelle, you’re too kind for your own good,” Leo said soothingly, patting her shoulder. “That’s why vipers like her think they can take advantage.” Three pairs of furious eyes locked onto me, their combined anger a palpable force. Theron, emboldened by their support, stepped forward and declared, his voice ringing out bold and clear: “I, Theron of House Wynthor, would never stoop to marry a creature like her! I swear, my heart belongs only to Mirabelle, and I will never take another woman as my wife—not now, not ever!” His words drew gasps of admiration. “Such devotion!” “Lord Theron is a man of principle! A true love story!” “And that shameless girl dared to interfere? Ridiculous!” I let out a soft, mocking chuckle, my eyes fixed on Theron’s face. “Are you sure?” I asked, my tone light, almost teasing. “You’re choosing her? Over me?” Theron shot me a look of pure disgust, as if my presence soiled the air. “You? A low-born wretch like you dares to ask? Even the stable boys at Wynthor Manor are above you. Marry you? Don’t make me laugh.” Laughter erupted around us, the crowd pointing and jeering. “Good,” I said quietly, my smile widening. “Your choice is made. No regrets?” “None,” he spat, his voice firm. “Perfect.” At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed. My eldest two brothers, Edmund and Julian, arrived, completing the cast. The sight of them brought back the memory of my previous life, of the day they stood over me, faces cold as they condemned me to death. ‘You dare defy us and expose Mirabelle? You thought you could steal her fiancé? You’ve gone too far!’ ‘Nothing but trouble since we took her in. Cut out her tongue.’ ‘The tongue isn’t enough. She can write. Better to finish it. Let the dogs have her. We’ll tell Father and Mother she ran away.’ ‘Yes. With her gone, Mirabelle can truly be the only daughter of House Blackwood.’ The memory sent a chill down my spine, but I clenched my fists, forcing calm. Now, everyone was here. And it was time to end this charade for good.

“Edmund! Julian!” The moment Mirabelle saw them enter, her eyes welled up on command. She looked utterly pathetic, the perfect victim. Julian, my second brother, shot me a venomous glare before turning to Mirabelle, his voice softening into syrup. “Mirabelle, don’t be afraid. Tell me everything. I’ll make sure justice is served.” “It’s… it’s nothing, really,” she replied with a weak, forgiving smile, her voice trembling slightly. “Elara’s just… jealous. She wanted to pretend to be the Duke’s daughter, but I understand. She’s naive, her head filled with silly dreams.” “She dares impersonate you?” Julian’s voice turned hard as he glared my way. Edmund’s brow was furrowed, his tone glacial. “We have one sister. That’s Mirabelle. Elara is a servant in this household, nothing more.” The moment those words left his mouth, I saw the same murderous intent I remembered from my past life. With his declaration, the crowd’s disdain for me solidified. Then a girl stepped from the crowd—Chloe, daughter of a minor lordling and one of Mirabelle’s most devoted followers. She crossed her arms, radiating righteous outrage. “This wretch even laid hands on Lady Mirabelle!” Chloe exclaimed. “I saw it myself last night! Poor Mirabelle’s back is covered in awful bruises!” “Chloe, please…” Mirabelle bit her lip, teary eyes glistening as she looked up. “Mirabelle, did she really hurt you?” Julian’s face darkened as he stepped closer, voice tight with anger. “I’m sure Elara didn’t mean it,” Mirabelle murmured, magnanimous in her martyrdom. “Please, don’t blame her because of me.” Her words, sounding like mercy, confirmed the story for the crowd. To them, she was the blameless victim, I the vicious aggressor. Mirabelle’s frail figure, trembling just so, deepened the crowd’s sympathy. My brothers stared at me like wolves eyeing prey. “Elara!” they barked in unison, eyes blazing. I arched a brow, turning to Chloe first. “The daughter of a fourth-tier court functionary presumes to address me so? Perhaps you should fetch your father before speaking further.” As her face flushed, I turned my cold smile on Mirabelle. “You claim I struck you? That you bear injuries? Fine. Let them be examined.” The words made both their expressions shift. Chloe’s face contorted with rage. “You filthy gutter-rat! You’re not fit to clean my boots! Mirabelle’s word is proof enough! Who else could have done it?” “Who knows?” I shrugged. “Perhaps you did it yourselves.” Chloe spluttered. Mirabelle’s lips quivered, tears falling like scattered pearls. She threw herself against Julian, sobbing. “To examine the marks… I’d have to undress! She wants to shame me, to ruin my reputation! How could I bear it?” Her words were fuel to fire. Theron, who’d been watching, jumped to his feet. “Elara, how dare you!” he roared. “Mirabelle is my future wife! I won’t allow her to be humiliated!” “Touch her and you answer to us!” Leo snarled, anger boiling over. “So malicious, Elara,” Marcus spat. “We should’ve gotten rid of you long ago.” I didn’t bother with their threats. I waved to a servant. “Bring a privacy screen. Let’s settle this properly.” Smack! The sound of a sharp slap echoed. A sting bloomed on my cheek. Mirabelle’s lips twitched with suppressed satisfaction, though her eyes couldn’t hide her triumph. “Well done, Edmund!” Leo cheered, clapping while the others smirked. Edmund glared, eyes cold with anger. “You dared hurt Mirabelle? That was mercy. Kneel. Apologize. Maybe we’ll spare you.” Smack! Before he finished, I struck him across the face. He stared, eyes wide, stunned silent. “Elara, you—” Smack! I hit him again. “You—” Smack! Three slaps total. Edmund’s face flamed crimson, blood trickling from his lip. He looked like a bull ready to charge. “Feel better now?” I asked calmly, voice empty. The room fell silent. The crowd was stunned. Edmund, heir to the Dukedom of Ravenswood, had been slapped—three times—in public. “Elara! Kneel and apologize to him now!” Leo bellowed. I let out a cold laugh. “Him? A Duke? That’s a joke. You’ve all forgotten where you came from. Shall I remind you?” My voice dripped contempt as I continued, “Father and Mother have one trueborn child. Me. The four of you? Orphans, taken in from the gutter after your wastrel father died in a brothel. You’re lucky to bear the Blackwood name.” Their faces paled, hands trembling. “Enough talk!” Julian growled. He handed Mirabelle to Theron, drew a dagger from his belt. “If you won’t kneel, I’ll take your hands. See how stubborn you are then.” “No need for that,” Edmund said coldly. He grabbed the dagger and plunged it toward my chest. The crowd gasped. “Die!” he hissed, eyes red with rage. Theron shielded Mirabelle’s eyes. “Don’t look, my love. It’s too ugly.” But there was no spray of blood. Just a metallic clang. Edmund stared, terror dawning, at the unyielding blade. “W-what…?” “Such a shame,” I said, smirking as I pulled my cloak aside, revealing the glint of golden scales beneath my gown. “A gift from the King. An enchanted breastplate. Quite impenetrable.” The dagger clattered as he stumbled back. Then a deep, thunderous voice cut through the tension: “You wretched fools! How dare you raise a hand to my daughter!” My father, the Iron Duke Alistair Blackwood, stood in the doorway, just returned from the border wars. The massive, blood-streaked greatsword on his back and the cold, battle-hardened look in his eyes made the boldest nobles shrink back. “The Duke… his presence is terrifying.”

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My boyfriend died for his first love, and I died in a car accident as a result. After we were reborn, we stayed out of each other’s lives. That was the silent agreement. I never expected to run into him again at a nightclub— down on one knee, proposing to that same first love. When he noticed me, his eyes swept over me with open disdain. “So this is what your life has come to without me?” “Don’t pretend. You followed me here because you want me back, didn’t you?” “Beg. Maybe I’ll be generous enough to take you back.” I just stared at him, genuinely caught off guard. Then I laughed. Apparently, no one had told him yet— I was already married. I never thought I’d see Lucas again, especially not in a place like this. I got stuck in traffic and missed the reunion dinner, so I drove straight to the club where I had another commitment. To my surprise, I bumped into my old classmates—they’d moved the party here. They were lost in the music on the dance floor. Lucas, with his fair skin and tall build, stood out in the crowd. He held Olivia close, his eyes full of affection. “Lucas is a real prodigy. So young and already owns multiple Formula 1 teams,” someone commented. “Absolutely. He rented out this entire club just for Olivia tonight.” “This has to be the most expensive venue in the city. A night here must cost at least a million.” “Well, you can’t put a price on making your girl smile.” As the music faded, Olivia stood there, flushed and slightly breathless. Suddenly, the big screen lit up, playing a montage of Lucas and Olivia’s romantic moments. The crowd cheered as Olivia was guided to the stage. Lucas, holding a bouquet of roses, got down on one knee in front of her. “Olivia, will you marry me?” His voice was soft, brimming with emotion. Someone in the crowd muttered, not too quietly, “When did Lucas and Evelyn break up?” The question hung in the air, reaching everyone’s ears. Hearing my name, Lucas’s expression darkened, his smile vanishing. Olivia’s face stiffened for a second before she recovered, accepting the flowers with a polite smile. “Lucas has always been popular, but hey, who didn’t make mistakes when they were young? What matters is that it all worked out in the end.” The crowd laughed, chiming in about what a perfect match they were. I stood in the corner, watching their intertwined fingers. Was I the “mistake” she meant? But she didn’t know—in our past life, Lucas was the one who chased me. He fell for me at first sight and pursued me intensely. Back then, who could resist a handsome, brilliant man who seemed utterly devoted? So I said yes. The day we made it official, Lucas cupped my face, hesitating before a kiss. “Evelyn, is this a dream?” he whispered. “If I kiss you, will I wake up?” I laughed, brushed my fingers over his beautiful eyes, and stood on my toes to kiss him. That night, he promised, “Evelyn, I’ll spend my whole life making you happy.” I believed him. But he lied. I took a deep breath and moved toward the elevator through the dim light. A sharp-eyed former classmate spotted me. “Evelyn? What are you doing here?” “What happened to you? You look… tired.” “Don’t tell me you’re still jobless. Since Lucas is here, just ask him for a favor. I’m sure he could hook you up with something that pays at least five grand a month. For old times’ sake.” Their mockery was thinly veiled. I ignored it, politely smiling as I poured myself a glass of ice water. From the moment I walked in, Lucas’s eyes were locked on me. Seeing me take the free water, he seemed to relax a bit. “Order whatever you want,” he said casually. “It’s on me tonight.” “Thanks, but I’m good,” I replied, my tone polite but distant. Lucas’s step faltered. Half his face was shadowed, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, he let out a low, bitter laugh. “Still as proud as ever, Evelyn.” Olivia watched me with wary eyes, lacing her fingers with Lucas’s in a possessive gesture. “Evelyn, no offense, but as a woman, you could at least try to look presentable in public.” “Look at you—mismatched clothes, messy hair. What man would want you like this?” “I have tons of old clothes at home. If you want them, you can have them. Lucas buys me so much, I can’t even fit it all in two walk-in closets.” The group chuckled. I glanced at my reflection in the glass. After two straight days on set, I was exhausted and hadn’t bothered fixing up. Next to Olivia’s flawless appearance, I did look rough. “No thanks,” I said, waving her off as I reached for some chilled fruit at the bar. I was too hungry to care about manners. Lucas suddenly walked over and held out his phone. I looked up, confused. “Give me your account details. I’ll wire you three hundred thousand,” he said. “Your situation… it’s partly my fault.” “But that’s in the past. Don’t be so stubborn.” “Stop waiting around for me. Move on.” Lucas’s phone wallpaper was a picture of Olivia holding a huge bouquet. Her carefree smile made me pause. In our past life, I wasn’t even his wallpaper. My number wasn’t saved because he never needed to call me—I handled everything for him, both in life and work. Guess it’s true—you can always tell when someone’s really into you, and when they’re not. We started dating in college and married right after graduation. He dreamed of being a race car driver. I wanted to be a film director. Two completely different paths, never meant to cross. Seeing the disappointment in his eyes, I gave in. I gave up my chance to study abroad without a second thought, following him around day after day, hauling heavy toolboxes. When he didn’t have professional gear, I delivered food on my bike late at night, saving up to buy him the best racing suit. When he had no pit crew, I taught myself mechanics, doing the work of a whole team for him. But he still lost. His second-hand car, bought cheap, couldn’t compete with the latest models. And when I tried to comfort him through the slump, he pushed me away, his eyes filled with a disgust I’d never seen before: “I’m so sick of this boring life with you.” “If I’d chosen Olivia back then, I wouldn’t be stuck like this.” Those words shattered every hope I had. I didn’t even get to look back at the road we’d traveled before we both died in that crash off the cliff. I wanted to beg him to save our baby. But the words were swallowed by the flames before I could speak. Since fate gave us a second chance, we both chose to live the lives we wanted. There was no reason to stay in touch. I pushed the phone back toward him. “We’re not connected anymore. This isn’t necessary.”

Lucas frowned, his voice trembling slightly though he didn’t seem to notice. “No connection? What’s that supposed to mean? Are we strangers now?” I met his gaze evenly. “Aren’t we? Our lives don’t cross anymore. How I dress, how I live—it’s none of your business.” “If you’ve got money to burn, maybe donate to people who actually need it.” Maybe feeling I’d embarrassed him in front of everyone, Lucas’s face hardened. “Evelyn, cut the act. You came here to get my attention, didn’t you?” Olivia gently patted his arm. “Lucas, don’t be so harsh.” She turned to me, contempt barely hidden behind a gentle tone. “Evelyn, don’t mind him. He’s just concerned about an old friend.” “How about this? I opened a private clinic on South Street. We need a receptionist—$7,000 a month, plus room and board.” “If you’re interested, it’s yours.” Someone nearby exclaimed, “South Street? That’s prime real estate! Olivia, you’re amazing.” “Evelyn, you hit the jackpot! Quick, thank her!” I rolled my eyes, calmly eating my fruit. “No need. I’m happy with my job.” Seeing I wasn’t grateful, the bootlickers turned on me. “Evelyn, poverty has messed with your head. Lucas and Olivia are trying to help you, and you’re acting all high and mighty.” “We’re all old classmates here. We know what you’re worth. Don’t let your pride ruin this chance.” After he finished, Olivia pretended to stop him. “Don’t say that… Maybe Evelyn really likes her life now.” As she spoke, her eyes welled up, as if she’d been wronged. Seeing her tears, Lucas pulled her close. “Olivia, you’re too kind.” He turned to me, his voice cold. “Evelyn, I didn’t expect you to still be so selfish and fake.” “You’re beyond help. You deserve the life you’ve got.” I wondered why he’d say such things. In both lives, I’d never done anything to hurt him. Why, after all this time, was he still so cruel? I didn’t want to engage further. I stood to head to the private room upstairs, but a former classmate blocked my way. He held a drink, leering as he approached. “Evelyn, I always hated that stuck-up act of yours. Never thought I’d see the day.” “How about a drink? Five hundred bucks a glass, sound good?” “Let me hold your hand, and I’ll throw in extra.” I looked closer—barely recognizing him as the guy who’d confessed to me at graduation. Jack, I think his name was. Back then, I was focused on landing a study-abroad spot, so I turned him down flat. Guess he held a grudge. Everyone laughed. No one stepped in. I frowned. I hadn’t meant to crash their party. If not for my prior commitment, I’d have left long ago. Security was nowhere. As I was about to shove him away, Lucas—who’d been watching silently—suddenly hurled his glass at Jack. “Stay away from her,” he said, his voice icy. Jack, now drenched, spun around ready to fight but froze when he saw it was Lucas. He just shot me a vicious glare. The glass shattered on the floor. Olivia’s smug smile vanished as she stared at Lucas in disbelief. “Lucas, what are you doing?” Lucas didn’t even glance at her, his eyes fixed on me. “My event, my rules. I don’t want trouble.” I stepped back, wiping alcohol off my pants. “The security here is terrible.” Olivia glared at me, her eyes blazing. “You’re complaining?” “Do you even know where you are? This is Adrian’s place—the movie star. Without Lucas, someone like you wouldn’t get within a mile of here.” At the mention of Adrian, several women perked up. “The Adrian who’s won all those awards and been on the city’s rich list for five years straight?” “I heard he has a kid, but no one’s ever seen the wife.” Just then, the main door swung open. A little girl walked in, surrounded by bodyguards. She glanced around curiously. A butler in a suit followed closely. “Miss, please slow down. Watch your step.” The old classmates buzzed with excitement. “Someone who can just walk in here, called ‘Miss’—must be the movie star’s daughter!” “Oh my god, she looks just like Adrian!” I was about to step forward when Jack blocked my path again. He didn’t dare confront Lucas, so he took it out on me. “Evelyn, if it weren’t for Lucas, someone like you would never get to see a celebrity’s kid. How about you kneel and apologize? If I’m in a good mood, I might even marry you.” “A solid guy like me making five grand a month is a catch. You should be grateful!” I ignored him, watching as the girl got swarmed. They bombarded her with questions, some already pulling out phones to snap pictures. Olivia’s earlier arrogance was gone, replaced by a fawning smile. “Sweetie, is your daddy Adrian?” After getting a nod, Olivia’s smile widened. “What brings you here? Want some fruit? Let sister get it for you.” She reached to touch the girl’s cheek. The little girl pushed Olivia’s hand away and walked straight to me. Under everyone’s stares, she threw herself into my arms. “Mommy!” Her bright eyes filled with tears. “Mommy, Lily missed you so much!” “Why didn’t you answer Lily’s call yesterday?” I held her close, soothing her. “Mommy was rehearsing on set and didn’t check her phone. I won’t do it again. Can you forgive me?” Lily beamed and planted a loud kiss on my cheek. “Lily’s not mad. I was just worried.” I poked her cheek. “My Lily is the best.”

Everyone in the room was stunned, staring at us in disbelief. Lucas stood frozen, frowning as if about to speak. A handsome man in sunglasses rushed in. “Honey, why didn’t you text that you got off early? I would’ve picked you up. The traffic’s awful—I worry.” “The manager said your reunion was here?” He put an arm around my shoulder, took off his sunglasses, and smiled at the crowd. “Hey, everyone. I’m Evelyn’s husband, Adrian.” “Tonight’s on me. You’re Evelyn’s friends, so order anything. Hope you all have a great time.” Jack, who’d tried to get me to drink, turned pale. The women could barely contain their excitement. “Evelyn is married to Adrian?!” “Oh my god, this is like a movie! This is too perfect!” I just smiled without responding. Adrian turned, his gaze sweeping over Lucas. After a moment, he gave a faint, dismissive smile. “So you’re Evelyn’s college boyfriend?” “I should thank you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have met my perfect wife.” Lucas didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on me. “Evelyn, are you lying again?” “Did you hire some actors?” I sighed, taking Adrian’s hand and showing Lucas the wedding ring on my finger. “He’s my husband, Adrian.” “I don’t lie. And I have no reason to lie to you.” Lucas suddenly panicked. “But you said you’d only love me forever!” Worried Adrian might misunderstand, I quickly clarified, “I never said that. Never.” Those words drained the color from Lucas’s face. He wanted to argue but knew he had no ground. In our past life, I had vowed at our wedding to love only him. But in this second chance, he’d chosen a different path. What right did he have to hold me to a promise from a life that no longer existed? Lucas couldn’t accept it. “Even so, we loved each other once. How can you just move on? Did our past mean nothing?” Beside him, Olivia had gone pale. I glanced at the proposal photos still rolling on the big screen and sighed. “Aren’t you with Olivia now?” “Half an hour ago, you were proposing to her. Now you’re accusing me of not cherishing the past?” Lucas had organized this gathering, and almost everyone had come to butter him up. When that guy harassed me, no one lifted a finger. Now that they knew who I was married to, they turned on Lucas and Olivia. “Come on, Lucas, let it go. Evelyn’s happy. You should be happy for her.” “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be with a guy like Adrian?” Olivia couldn’t take it anymore. She reached for Lucas’s hand. “Lucas, let’s go. I’m your fiancée now. You and Evelyn are over.” But the moment she touched him, Lucas shoved her away violently. Olivia lost her balance and fell onto the broken glass. Her hands were cut in several places. Her face flushed with humiliation, and she shot me a resentful look. Adrian’s smile deepened. “Mr. Summers, you’re not having second thoughts, are you? Trying to win my wife back?” “Evelyn is incredible, but she’s not interested. Don’t overestimate yourself.” Exposed, Lucas stammered, “No… I…” I raised a hand to stop him, my tone cold. “Lucas, the past is the past.” “I have a family now, and you’re with the person you always wanted.” “Let’s not do this.” Our daughter was clearly bored. She tugged Adrian’s hand and pouted. “Daddy, I don’t wanna stay here for my birthday. I wanna go home and eat the food you and Mommy make.” Adrian asked the butler to take her to the car. Holding my hand, he gave a meaningful look to the room. “I heard someone offered five hundred dollars for my wife to drink with him?” Jack went pale, trembling as he stammered, “It was me… I was an idiot, I offended Mrs. Smith. Please… please forgive me.” He hung his head, shaking. With a glance from Adrian, bodyguards stepped forward, lifted Jack, and dragged him into a side room. Then Adrian turned to Olivia. “And I heard you offered my wife a cleaning job at your clinic?” “Funny, I own the entire block in South District. If the clinic owner is personally hiring cleaners, maybe I should rethink the lease renewal.” The threat was clear. Olivia forced a smile, hiding slightly behind Lucas. “I was just joking with your wife… Please don’t take it seriously…” Adrian’s gaze swept over the others who’d disrespected me earlier. They all looked down, not daring to breathe loudly. Finally, he turned to me and gave a playful wink. I knew what that meant—he wanted praise for standing up for me. I took his hand and we turned to leave. Just outside the door, Lucas caught up. “Evelyn!”

The late autumn wind was chilly. I instinctively hugged my arms. I motioned for Adrian to wait in the car. After a moment’s hesitation, he draped his coat over my shoulders before getting in. Even now, he chose to trust me. I held Adrian’s coat tight, watching Lucas approach unsteadily. His eyes were dark, unreadable. “Why did you marry him? Is he really better than me?” His question was absurd, but thinking back to everything before I married Adrian, I couldn’t help but smile. That year, I was a rookie director trying to break into the industry. Even new-media producers wouldn’t look at my scripts. I’d almost run through my savings chasing that dream. When I was at my lowest, Adrian picked up my script. He didn’t look down on me. Instead, he went over every detail with me, suggested actors, helped me win my first director award. The day I won, he confessed. I won’t deny I’d fallen for him during those long collaborations, but because of my past-life scars, I held back. I asked him, “If I’m with you, can I still direct?” Adrian seemed surprised. “You’re your own person. You don’t need my permission. I love you, so I’ll support whatever you want to do.” I took a deep breath. “I want kids.” Adrian smiled softly. “Me too.” I said yes, and from that day on, he became my new beginning. We married. Adrian respected my wish for a simple church wedding with just close friends and family. Then came Lily. Seeing my expression, Lucas looked as if he’d been stabbed. Eyes red, he asked again, “That girl… she’s really yours?” “Yes.” “You never wanted a child with me. Why him?” His words brought back the ultrasound photo I’d clutched until I died in that crash. That baby had a steady heartbeat but died with me in the fire. My chest ached, tears blurring my vision. Lucas kept accusing me of betrayal. Finally, I couldn’t take it. I slapped him. Lucas held his cheek, staring at me in shock. “We had a child once.” “The day you drove us off the cliff, I was going to tell you.” “I used to feel so guilty about that baby. But now I’m just relieved. At least my child didn’t have a father like you.” Lucas froze. He covered his mouth, trembling. “No… you went to the clinic that day. Olivia said she saw you go in for an abortion.” “She said you thought I was too poor to have my child.” Then I understood why he’d called me selfish all those years. “If I looked down on you, why would I have married you without hesitation?” Lucas shattered. He collapsed, mumbling, “I killed my child… I killed them.” Tears fell as I looked at him, feeling only ridicule. “I walked with you for so long, gave you so much, and you believed someone else so easily.” I turned to leave, but Lucas grabbed my wrist. “Evelyn, I was wrong. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” “Please come back. I can’t live without you.” I shook my head, pulling my hand free. “Lucas, you forgot.” “‘Let’s never see each other again in this life.’ You said that.” I knew the past couldn’t be changed. Thankfully, I’d truly moved on. One night, police cars surrounded the Stevens’ private clinic. The next day, headlines blared: Oliver Stevens, Olivia’s father, arrested for illegal organ trafficking, corpse sales, and baby auctions.

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I took care of my husband in a vegetative state for three years. On the day he woke up, he publicly identified my cousin as the one who had saved his life. I thought he had simply mistaken her for someone else. Then I heard him say, “I could never marry a mute. Someone who can’t even explain herself has no right to stand beside me.” In that moment, I understood— to him, I had only ever been a temporary substitute. So I signed the divorce papers on the spot and turned around to schedule memory-erasure surgery, removing him from my life before he could do it to me first. Lucas had been in a coma for three years. When he woke up, the first person he saw was me, but his eyes were filled with disappointment. I didn’t notice the disappointment in his eyes. Overjoyed, I helped him sit up and shared the good news in our friends’ group chat. Soon, the hospital room was crowded with people. And I, the wife who had cared for Lucas for three years, was pushed to the corner, completely ignored. Chloe arrived late, wearing a beautiful blue evening gown, looking like she had just come from a party. Lucas grabbed Chloe’s hand, his eyes red-rimmed, “Honey, you’ve suffered so much these three years.” At these words, everyone in the room was stunned, as if the air had frozen. I stood to the side, fidgeting with my clothes, unable to speak up for myself. All because of my mutism. His friend awkwardly explained, “Lucas, Emily is your wife.” Lucas’s brow instantly furrowed, his eyes turning cold as he looked at me, as if I had come between him and Chloe. I had always known he liked my cousin Chloe. They were supposed to get married, but a car accident left him in a vegetative state. My cousin didn’t want to marry a vegetable and cried to my parents. When I heard it was Lucas, I agreed to their request to marry him in my sister’s place. Little did I know that after three years of my devoted care, this would be the result. I immediately took out my phone and started typing, wanting to explain, but Chloe pressed down my phone. She looked at me with a fake smile, “Sister, Lucas just woke up. He probably can’t handle too much information right now. Why don’t you step out for a bit?” Sensing the awkward atmosphere, the others in the room made excuses to leave. As the door closed, Chloe burst into tears and threw herself into Lucas’s arms, as if she had suffered some great injustice. “Lucas, you’re finally awake. I’ve waited for you for three years…” My heart suddenly tightened, my hand trembling as I gripped the doorknob. After what seemed like an eternity, Chloe opened the door, her cheeks still wet with tears. I walked into the room suspiciously, only to have a glass shatter at my feet. “Emily, you really went to great lengths to marry me!” “Using such underhanded tactics, aren’t you ashamed?” Flying glass shards cut my leg, but the pain was nothing compared to what I felt in my heart. Lucas was my childhood friend, the only one who didn’t look down on my mutism and encouraged me to seek treatment. But after meeting Chloe, he was unconsciously drawn to her. The boy who once said he would marry me gradually turned his heart towards her. Now he even saw me as the villain who came between their love. I frantically tried to use sign language, then remembered he couldn’t understand it. I shakily took out my phone to type an explanation. Chloe looked at me challengingly, knocking the phone out of my hand. It fell to the floor, the screen instantly going black. “Sister, please, let us be together!” I stood there, stunned. Apart from sign language, my phone was my only means of communication with others. And now I couldn’t even defend myself. I shook my head desperately, but the world can be cruel, especially for someone who can’t speak.

My parents somehow got wind of the news and rushed to the hospital. I intercepted them, using sign language to ask them to explain for me. They could understand a bit of simple sign language. Mom nodded slightly, while Dad just pushed me aside and pulled Mom into the room. After exchanging pleasantries for a while, Mom hesitantly spoke up, “Emily, she…” Chloe, sensing what Mom was about to say, interrupted, “Mom, my sister just likes Lucas too much. Don’t blame her.” I widened my eyes in disbelief, grabbing Chloe and frantically signing, [You’re lying! You’re lying!] She rubbed her wrist, nestling into Lucas’s arms, looking pitiful, “I’m sorry, sister. Don’t be angry, I won’t say anymore.” I desperately signed to Mom, my vision blurring with tears, [Tell him it’s not like that!] Mom avoided my gaze. A sense of helplessness spread through my body. In the three years I had cared for Lucas alone, not a single day had been more desperate than today. Dad’s face darkened, “Weren’t you the one who forced your sister to give up her place? You even said Lucas wouldn’t know anyway.” If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I never would have imagined my own father could twist the truth so much. These words felt like needles stabbing my heart. Originally, it was my sister who despised Lucas for becoming a vegetable and didn’t want to marry him. That’s why my parents had me marry him instead. Lucas let out a cold laugh, “Emily, it’s a good thing I woke up. Otherwise, I would have died with my eyes closed.” I bit my lip hard, the taste of blood spreading in my mouth. So this was how he saw me. Mom pulled me out of the room, her face full of guilt, “Don’t blame your father. We owe Chloe this much.” Chloe’s parents had died saving my parents. My parents took Chloe in and treated her like their own. My parents felt indebted to her, so I always had to give in to her in everything. Whenever I refused, Chloe would cry and say, “If only my parents were still here.” When I developed mutism, just when I needed companionship the most, Chloe convinced my parents to take her traveling abroad. Three years ago, Chloe’s mocking words still rang in my ears, “A mute and a vegetable are a perfect match!” Mom continued, “Now that Lucas is awake, he’ll divorce you sooner or later.” “Leaving a good impression now will only elevate your sister’s status, won’t it?” Tears fell to the ground as I pounded my chest hard, the only way to alleviate the pain in my heart. But it was my parents who owed my uncle and aunt, why did I have to pay the debt? Lucas moved quickly. He decided on divorce in the morning and had the divorce agreement drawn up by the afternoon. Afraid I might cause trouble, he had several bodyguards watch me as I signed my name. I smiled bitterly and slowly wrote my name. Lucas had saved my life, and I had watched over him for three years. From now on, we owed each other nothing.

The autumn evening breeze carried a hint of chill. As soon as my phone was fixed, I sent a message to Dr. Miller, [I’d like to try the hypnotherapy you mentioned before.] Dr. Miller quickly replied, [After hypnosis, you will lose some memories.] [Also, a family member needs to sign a consent form to ensure someone will take care of you during your recovery period.] My gaze fell on the words “family member”, and I couldn’t help but smile bitterly, unable to think of anyone who could sign the consent form for me. I kept scrolling through my contacts, my finger hovering over one profile picture, hesitating to click on it. Unexpectedly, the profile picture suddenly shook, and a message popped up, [I’m back in the country today. Would you like to have dinner?] I quickly replied, agreeing on a place to meet. Looking out at the scenery, my thoughts drifted far away. Daniel was the son of my sign language teacher. Because I often went to his house for lessons, we became quite familiar with each other. Three years ago, when he learned I was going to marry a man in a vegetative state, he angrily smashed the birthday gift he was going to give me, saying his mother teaching me sign language was a waste. I fought back using sign language, saying all sorts of nasty things. Later, he went abroad to study, and I thought we would never see each other again. I didn’t expect him to return to the country. After not seeing each other for several years, he had matured a lot, giving off an unapproachable aura when not smiling. I went straight to the point, using sign language to ask him, [Can you… pretend to be my family member and sign for me?] His expression froze. After learning the whole story, his hands clenched tightly, as if trying hard to suppress something. “Are you sure about this?” I nodded lightly. What use were these memories to me anyway? Besides, after the memories were suppressed, I would be able to speak again. “Alright.” When I returned to the Jiang family mansion, it was already evening. My things had been carelessly thrown in the hallway of the villa. Lucas glanced at me coldly, “Emily, don’t say I’m not giving you face. From now on, you’ll live in the guest room.” I nodded lightly. He hadn’t expected me to be so calm and looked me up and down. I would forget about him soon anyway, so what did it matter where I lived? Suddenly, a small dog ran out of the house. I froze, instinctively grabbing Lucas’s arm. He frowned in displeasure and shook off my hand roughly. “Emily, know your place.” His force was so strong that I hadn’t reacted in time and fell to the ground, pain shooting through my wrist. I had been afraid of dogs since childhood, and the boy who once said he would protect me for life had now let go of my hand. A flash of regret crossed his eyes, and he reached out to help me up. I pretended not to see it and struggled to my feet, ignoring the pain. Chloe came out of the room, clinging to Lucas’s arm and pouting. “Little Darling doesn’t like being confined. Can we give it a bigger room?” Lucas fondly ruffled her hair, “Alright, let’s give the newly cleaned guest room to Little Darling.” “Emily, you’ll move to the basement.” How laughable. In his eyes, I was worth less than a stray dog they had adopted. While packing my things, I suddenly smelled something strange. Following the scent, I saw a large yellow stain on a red coat. This coat was a birthday gift from Lucas. Because my birthday was on the same day as my uncle and aunt’s death anniversary, my parents didn’t allow me to celebrate. Lucas had secretly given me the coat, earnestly telling me, “Emily, I’ll be with you for every birthday from now on.” Apparently, promises only count when there’s love. I had cherished this coat so much that I never dared to wear it. It seems I’ll never get to wear it now. Lucas saw the coat, felt a twinge of emotion, and told the housekeeper to take it for dry cleaning. But I threw the coat directly into the trash bin, along with all the photos of Lucas and me from over the years. I didn’t want to have any connection with him in the future. Lucas stared at me and slowly said, “Chloe has a kind heart and adopted Little Darling. If you dare to make her unhappy, I definitely won’t let you off.” People really do laugh when they’re at their wit’s end. It seems Lucas had completely forgotten that I’m afraid of dogs. Probably on Lucas’s orders, not a single servant helped me. Ignoring the pain in my wrist, I packed until evening, finally clearing out everything related to Lucas. This was the first time I had stayed at home in three years. After Lucas became a vegetable, I had practically lived in the hospital. At first, there were visitors, but later everyone in the Jiang family gave up on him. Most of the time, it was just him and me in the hospital room. Just as I was falling into a light sleep at dawn, I was awakened by a bucket of cold water. Lucas looked down at me condescendingly, “Emily, you’ve really become lazy.” “You’re no longer the mistress of the Jiang family. How dare you sleep in?” My head was a bit fuzzy, and I nodded lightly to show I understood. I wiped the water off my face and got up to change my clothes. The servants in the villa were bustling about. The housekeeper glanced at me and told me to go polish the piano. Only then did I realize today was Chloe’s birthday. My fingers glided over the piano keys, and beautiful music flowed from my fingertips. Lucas once said my hands were born to play the piano, but now these hands were used to polish the piano. I couldn’t help but smile bitterly at the irony. Sweet words are only sincere in the moment they’re spoken. Halfway through polishing, I received a message from Dr. Miller, [Tomorrow morning at 10 AM.] I quickly replied “okay” and forwarded the message to Daniel. Thinking about being able to speak again, my mood improved considerably. I thought this party had nothing to do with me, but unexpectedly, Lucas pulled me to the dressing room. I was flattered to receive a dress. But he was full of impatience, “Hurry up and put it on. How will people talk about Chloe if you don’t attend?” So it was only to avoid gossip about Chloe. I felt the large stains on the dress, my heart already numb. I remembered Chloe’s social media post an hour ago: [It doesn’t matter if I stained the dress, Lucas will prepare two for me.] Chloe stood by the cake like an elegant princess, while I was like a clown for people’s amusement. I tried to minimize my presence, sitting in a corner. But the gossip still reached my ears. “What’s that on her dress? It’s disgusting!” “She’s so shameless, stealing her sister’s fiancé.” “I heard she’s a mute.” The mocking voices were incessant. I clenched my dress tightly. Chloe sat down at the piano, the spotlight focused on her, attracting everyone’s attention. The music suddenly stopped, and she cried out, “Ouch! How are there razor blades in the piano!” The housekeeper pointed at me in the corner, “Only Miss Emily touched the piano!” Lucas glared at me angrily, roughly pulling me to the piano and pressing my hands onto the keys. The pain in my fingers was so intense I could barely breathe. “Emily, this is the price you pay for doing wrong.” After saying this, he carried Chloe out, ignoring my bloodied hands. I clearly saw Chloe flash a smug smile at me. Later, an ambulance took me to the hospital, but all the doctors in the hospital had been called to examine Chloe. Before I fainted from blood loss, I heard a nurse shout angrily, “If her hands don’t get immediate treatment, she’ll be permanently disabled!” Tears slid from the corners of my eyes. I really wished I had never met Lucas. Meanwhile, the doctor looking at Lucas seemed familiar and greeted him. “How’s your wife? She took care of you for three years. It’s finally her time to be happy.” 5 Lucas frowned at the word “wife”, about to ask what he meant. Chloe pretended to wipe away non-existent tears, “Lucas, my hand hurts so much. Will I not be able to play the piano anymore?” Seeing her cry, Lucas immediately panicked, holding her in his arms and comforting her softly.

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My manager fined me six hundred thousand dollars for eating a snack bar during overtime, saying company rules mattered more than any contract I had closed. What she didn’t mention was that I had just finalized a billion-dollar renewal and hadn’t left the office for thirty hours. I signed the apology without protest, and submitted my annual leave request on the spot. By the time I walked out of the building, the company’s largest client had already suspended the contract and demanded to speak to me by name. I ate a snack bar because I was starving from working overtime, and my manager slapped me with a $600,000 fine! She pointed a finger right at my face, absolutely fuming. “Alex, don’t think you’re hot stuff just because you closed that deal!” “This is a workplace, not your kitchen! Eat your food at home!” “Company policy explicitly forbids snacking! You knew this and did it anyway, so your offense is even worse!” “Your $600,000 commission for that contract? Canceled!” I just looked at her, cool as a cucumber, and said, “Whatever.” I figured, why bother? I was already giving up, and that’s when she really lost it. Victoria was absolutely furious with my attitude. “Alex, write a public apology, you’ll deliver it at the all-staff meeting!” I looked at her face, crimson from anger, and clenched my fists. Then, calmly, I said, “Fine by me!” My colleagues all stared at me, disbelief written on their faces. Victoria spun around, high heels clicking, and went up to the 23rd floor. I stayed at my desk. A little while later, a notice popped up in the company-wide company chat group. “Sales Department’s Alex has repeatedly violated company policies. After careful consideration, it has been decided to deduct this month’s commission, totaling $600,000, and she is required to present a public apology at today’s all-staff meeting at 2 PM as a warning to others!” My colleagues looked at me in shock. Leo, at the desk opposite mine, sent me a private company chat: “Victoria’s having a total meltdown, don’t argue with her. Just suck it up, that’s $600,000!” I just smiled. Sucking it up wouldn’t do any good; she wanted to kick me to the curb after I’d served my purpose. She’d been eyeing my position for ages. When Mr. Sterling, the old chairman, headhunted me, he promised I wouldn’t have to clock in or out, I’d have complete freedom, and could eat or drink as I pleased, as long as I delivered results. I practically ran half the sales department on my own. This Monarch Corp. contract, worth billions, I handled the renewal myself, and wrapped it up in just a week. Victoria probably thought my job was too easy and was just green with envy! I company chatted back to Leo: “Just wait. This afternoon isn’t just my public shaming; someone’s also going to try and take my place.” Leo looked shocked, but I ignored him, calmly sitting at my desk, organizing and printing all my client files. Then I formatted all the data on my work phone. After doing both, I started writing my apology. Victoria came down at one point, saw me writing, and couldn’t help but flash a smug smile. At 2 PM, she arrived with some people. The all-staff meeting in the 23rd-floor conference room, with over a hundred people, was packed. Victoria’s voice was sharp and clear. “I’ll reiterate: a company is a company. Don’t think it’s your home. Despite countless warnings, some people just don’t listen!” “Don’t think you’re so special just because the chairman personally hired you. Anyone can close a deal just by schmoozing and having a fancy dinner!” “Alex, get up here and deliver your apology. Let everyone see how you messed up!” I stood up and walked to the front, under a mix of confused and secretly gloating stares. “Manager Victoria is right. I shouldn’t have eaten that snack bar in the office. From today forward, I will strictly adhere to company discipline and never cross the line again!” “Manager Victoria, I’m not much for words. If you don’t want me to eat, I won’t eat. Being a salesperson isn’t such a big deal anyway.” “Good to know! Given your repeated offenses, the senior management has decided to revoke your position as Sales Director, effective today, and demote you to a regular sales associate.” “This is our new Director, Brandon. He’s an MBA from abroad and will lead us to new heights!” A smattering of applause broke out. Victoria pulled a smarmy-looking guy forward. Leo and I exchanged glances; he was completely floored. Finally, Victoria added, “Alex, organize all your client files and hand them over. They’ll be reallocated!” I readily agreed, printed everything out, and handed it over immediately. These clients? If you can handle them, go right ahead! Seeing my cooperation, Victoria seemed a little suspicious. She checked everything carefully, ensuring nothing was missing, and finally let it go. Brandon, meanwhile, was strutting around like he owned the place. He came straight from the 23rd floor to my desk and tapped on it. “Alex, hurry up, pack all your things right now. Otherwise, if anything goes missing, you’ll be held responsible.”

I understood perfectly. As Sales Director, my desk was in the same area as everyone else, but I had a whole row to myself, with an open view, allowing me to see everyone opposite me. Now, it was different. He was eager to push me out, and my new spot was directly opposite him, by the window. Even with air conditioning in summer, we weren’t allowed to close the blinds. The scorching sun blared through the glass, not only reflecting off the computer screen but also making it unbearably hot. But none of that mattered. I quietly packed my things and was about to move my computer to the new spot when he stopped me. “Hold on. We need to check everything on your computer carefully. What if you’re taking client data with you?” “Fine, check it!” I opened my computer and let him search through everything. Mr. Sterling himself had personally headhunted me. At the time, he’d told me, “Alex, you have absolute authority in this company!” Mr. Sterling’s health had declined in recent years, and he’d gone abroad for treatment. Everything they were doing now struck me as utterly ridiculous. I knew exactly what Victoria was thinking: kicking me to the curb to cut costs. But unfortunately, costs aren’t that easy to cut. Brandon found nothing suspicious and could only wave me off. Leo sent me a message: “Don’t worry, Alex. We’re all rooting for you!” I sent back a smiling emoji. What good was their support? I didn’t believe for a second that the senior management on the 23rd floor was unaware of what Victoria was doing to me. They were tacitly approving it. That meant Mr. Sterling, far across the ocean, must also know. If that was the case, there was no point in arguing with them. I clocked out at the end of the day, just as usual. I didn’t know what their previous expectations were, but from now on, I’d strictly follow company procedures. That couldn’t be a problem, right? According to my old routine, I’d usually meet clients for tea and chats after work. But not anymore. I drove straight home, lay on my long-missed bed, and watched the sunset, feeling fantastic. Normally, I’d always be out entertaining clients, with endless social obligations. Now, I finally had time to myself. I opened my phone, searched for theater tickets, and booked one for myself. My favorite theater actor had performed hundreds of shows, but I’d never been to a single one. Now, I finally had the time. Soon after, I was added to a new sales group. Brandon was the group admin. “Attention All Staff: From now on, all sales personnel must write daily sales logs. You need to report who you met, what was discussed, and if there’s any potential interest, for my review.” “You must secure 5 potential clients each month. If you fail to meet this, your end-of-month evaluation will be reduced by 20%.” Leo messaged me privately: “Look at him! Says he came back from overseas, but he’s using all these outdated methods on us?” “Has he ever even worked in sales? Potential clients aren’t that easy to find! Five a month? The entire company only closes deals based on old clients these days!” “The economy’s rough now, it’s not that simple. And the big clients aren’t ones we can handle. For small clients, this city only has so many people. He really doesn’t want to give us any breathing room.” Seeing Leo’s rant, I just comforted him, “Take it easy. Just do whatever your boss tells you to.” “Alex, are you really just going to let him push you around? I wouldn’t stand for it! If it were me, I’d have quit ages ago! I can’t take this crap!” Leo was always outspoken. I smiled at his messages but didn’t reply. I wasn’t in a hurry. They’d find out soon enough.

The next day at work, I submitted my annual leave request. I’d been with the company for eight years and hadn’t taken a single day of annual leave. When I submitted the request, Brandon looked at me. “What’s the meaning of this, Alex? I just started, and you want to take time off? Are you deliberately trying to go against me?” “Director Brandon, you’re overreacting. Under your leadership, I’m sure we’ll turn things around. I haven’t had a break in so many years, I just can’t take it anymore. I plan to take some annual leave to truly relax and recover. My body can’t handle it.” He sized me up, his eyes full of disdain. “Right, I suppose you do have to service all those big clients. People over thirty certainly can’t keep up.” His words had a hidden meaning, I knew. He was implying I’d used improper methods to land those clients. Once people form a prejudice, it’s hard to change their minds. But for now, I wouldn’t explain myself further. Brandon still signed it. “Remember the end-of-month evaluation! If you don’t meet it, your base salary will be docked!” “Fail for three consecutive months, and you’ll be packing your bags and out the door!” “Understood. Don’t worry, I’m not leaving.” Because the ones leaving would have to be them! After completing the paperwork, I packed my things and started my vacation. First stop: the state capital. Today was the day of the show I’d been waiting for; I couldn’t miss it. Two hours later, as soon as I got off the high-speed train, Leo sent me a message: “Alex, the Luminar Group contract is finalized, and Victoria says the credit for this achievement will go to Brandon.” “By the end of the year, they’re going to push for Brandon to be the head of the sales department. That way, Victoria herself can get another promotion!” “The nerve! Are you just going to let them get away with it?” “Not yet. They can’t handle it. Just wait!” I sent that message and smiled. Renewing the Luminar contract wasn’t something you could just achieve by wining and dining. I ignored it, put my phone on silent, and sat in the auditorium, looking at the stage just a meter away. I felt incredibly excited. My emotions ebbed and flowed with the play, laughing at times, crying at others. Two hours later, I walked out of the auditorium, pulled out my phone, and saw over a hundred missed calls and countless company chat messages. The most recent one was from Victoria, sent just moments ago. “Alex, Mr. Miller from Luminar Group says there’s a problem with the contract, and they’re backing out! The direct loss is over $3 billion! You can expect to be fired!” I scoffed, and simply replied, “The contract was handed over to Brandon. If he can’t handle it, am I supposed to take the blame?” “Manager Victoria, if you want to fire me, remember to give me my severance.” After sending it, I shoved my phone back into my pocket. Even Leo couldn’t reach me. I wandered around, eating and shopping, and the constant stream of messages on my phone gave me a pretty good idea of what was happening. After I left, Brandon decided to “build rapport” with the major client and went to Luminar Group, bringing gifts. He ran into Mr. Miller, who, upon learning he was the new director, asked a few technical questions. Brandon couldn’t answer a single one. Mr. Miller felt the company was unprofessional and insisted on an on-site visit. I’d personally taken him to that site 800 times. Brandon had never been there. When they arrived, they happened to find a machine broken. Brandon told an engineer to come fix it. But no one could fix the new machine. Whenever there was a problem, I was the one who called in my contacts to repair it. Brandon used this as an excuse, claiming I had deliberately sabotaged the machine. Mr. Miller immediately declared that our company was a fraud and he wouldn’t renew the contract. Not only had Brandon botched the contract, costing the company $3 billion, but Mr. Miller also ridiculed Brandon, and it even reached Mr. Sterling, the old chairman. Just then, Leo called. “Alex, you need to come back! They’re about to call the police, saying you committed malicious fraud!”

Hearing that, I just chuckled. I knew Brandon and the others were listening, so I told him directly: “Leo, do me a favor and call the police for me. I’m an employee on annual leave, how could I possibly commit malicious fraud? I don’t have that kind of power. Let them investigate however they want!” After saying that, I hung up and company chatted him: “Don’t worry. I’m on a seven-day leave. I’ll deal with it when I get back in seven days.” Now, let’s see who can’t sleep. Back in the office, they were in a frenzy. “What’s going on? What did Alex say?” “She said she’s on seven days of annual leave and will deal with it when she gets back.” Leo stared at Victoria. “Manager Victoria, do you still want to call the police? I’ll call them right now.” Victoria glared at him. “Call them! Call them now!” “Brandon, aren’t you a mechanical engineering major? Hurry up and find someone!” Brandon readily agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” Then he started calling in his contacts. Leo, seeing their desperate state, couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, giving me a live update. I looked at Brandon’s frantic expression with disdain. They only knew me as a salesperson, but they didn’t know I also had a mechanical engineering degree. And our field was very specialized. My mentor was a big shot in this area, and this very machine was his design. Naturally, only his direct students, like us, knew how to repair it. Whenever I encountered a problem, I could just make a call to the client’s CEO, who also happened to be my senior fellow student from our research group. He’d even bring me food and drinks when he came. That’s why whenever I handled things, accompanying major clients to inspect machines and factories, on-site, I could usually seal the deal. It wasn’t just because I was dedicated; it was also because my mentor and fellow students from our research group had huge influence. Connections are cash. Unfortunately, they didn’t understand that. Now, just for such a minor thing, they’d pushed me out and even withheld my $600,000 commission. Since that’s how it was, I wouldn’t be polite either. Everyone has a powerful network! I sent Leo a PayPal transfer. “Keep an eye on things and report back to me anytime. I’m going to enjoy my week-long vacation.” “Got it!” My mentor happened to be in the state capital, and I was here to visit him and catch up with my fellow students from our research group. Brandon was just a guy with a fancy degree from a diploma mill; the engineers he could call were just as amateur as he was. After arriving at the factory and seeing the machine, it didn’t take long for them to “find” the problem. “It’s just a loose screw; tightening it will fix it.” An on-site technician quickly tried to stop him. “No, the previous engineer said that screw can’t be touched. If you touch it, the entire production line will collapse.” “I know you types; you even burn incense before starting work. Don’t be so alarmist!” “If it really worked, you wouldn’t be calling me now!” His invited repairman, also his buddy, simply tightened the screw and then pressed the button. As the entire production line started to rumble and roar, Brandon looked smug. “See? That’s what capability looks like! I don’t know what kind of favors that previous guy did for you, always talking him up!” “I think…” Before he could finish, the machine started to creak and groan, then shook violently, the strange noises growing louder. Both men froze in terror! The technicians gasped, “Cut the power!” After the power was cut, the machine shuddered for several minutes before finally stopping, but not before emitting a sharp, piercing shriek. Victoria panicked. “What happened? Open it up and see!” As soon as they opened it, smoke billowed out. It was completely wrecked. Not only that, but the screw Brandon had tightened earlier had snapped, and half of it was at the bottom of the machine.

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After the car crash, I faked amnesia. I thought it would shake them up. Instead, my son brought another woman to my hospital room and called her “Mom.” My husband didn’t say a word to correct him. They thought I’d forgotten it all. They had no idea—I remembered every cruel word, every time he wasn’t there, every night I cried myself to sleep. So I signed the divorce papers, packed my entire life into moving trucks, and walked out without a single look back. That’s when the panic finally set in for them. After the accident, I decided to play along with the memory loss to see how my husband and son would react. “Who are you people?” I asked, keeping my voice flat. A mischievous glint flashed in my son’s eyes. He led a woman in from the hallway and announced, “Ma’am, my parents and I are just visiting.” With bandages wrapped around my head, I looked down at my five-year-old, Leo Carter, holding two adults’ hands, a smug little grin on his face. My husband, Nathan Carter, stood beside him in his impeccably tailored suit. His gaze was intense, searching my face, but he didn’t correct our son’s choice of words. The woman Leo clung to wore a soft, flowy white dress. She looked elegant and kind, but flinched slightly under my stare, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Noticing my focus on Amelia Reed, Leo quickly stepped between us, as if shielding her. If I really had amnesia, I might have bought the picture of this perfect, happy little family. Leo tugged on Nathan’s hand, whispering just loud enough for me to hear, “Dad, now that Mom can’t remember, can you finally get the divorce?” I knew his game. This was payback because yesterday I’d scolded him in front of the housekeeper. This was how Leo got his kicks—making me the punchline. But I was done playing. I’d claimed memory loss; might as well run with it. Pretend there was no son, no husband. “Excuse me… who are you again?” Leo’s jaw went slack, his cocky grin fading into shock. “You… you really don’t remember me? You can’t forget me—I’m your favorite kid…” Nathan’s brow furrowed, his icy stare turning even colder, voice dripping with annoyance. “Evelyn Reed, cut the act. The doctor said it’s a minor concussion. You can’t fake amnesia to get out of this.” Leo, his little face scrunched in a mirror of his father’s impatience, chimed in, “Yeah, stop pretending! You love us too much to ever forget us!” A headache was starting to pound behind my eyes. Before I could respond, a nurse knocked and entered. “The patient needs to rest now,” she stated firmly. “All non-family members, please step out.” Without another word, Nathan and Leo turned, with Amelia following quietly behind them. The young nurse came in, glancing back at the door. “Your husband was here earlier—he just went to get you some soup from the cafeteria.” “My… husband?” My mind stuttered. Didn’t you just escort my husband out? She blinked. “Yes, he’s very handsome. I remember him from four years ago when I worked in L&D. He was at every single one of your prenatal appointments, always waiting so patiently outside. Never on his phone. He had us all believing in love again.” She paused, then chuckled. “By the way, who were those other two? Good-looking, but they had a real ‘here to collect a debt’ vibe.” I almost laughed. Nathan hadn’t come to a single one of my fourteen prenatal appointments. The man who’d been by my side was my younger half-brother, Caleb Reed, who was only eighteen back then. I didn’t bother explaining. Soon, none of it would matter. A moment later, Caleb hurried in with a takeout bag, slightly out of breath. The sight made my empty stomach clench; I hadn’t eaten all day. Caleb carefully unpacked the containers, napkins, a bottle of water, and a spoon. “I brought some warm ginger tea and your favorite—homemade chicken soup. It’ll help. Here, I’ll get the lid off for you.” Ever since I met Caleb at fifteen, he’d been my rock. A few spoonfuls in, the gnawing emptiness finally began to ease. When I looked up, I saw his eyes were red-rimmed, his lips trembling slightly. “When I heard about the accident… I was terrified.” A bittersweet warmth spread through me. A car crash is terrifying. I’d been lucky. I’d thought pretending to lose my memory would shake Nathan and Leo up, maybe even give us something to laugh about later. But trying to get concern from a heartless person is like squeezing water from a stone.

A few days later, I was discharged. I firmly told the doctors that aside from Nathan and Leo, my memory was perfectly fine. The doctor explained to Nathan that the memory loss was temporary, a side effect of the concussion, and that my full recall would gradually return. Back at Nathan’s house, I headed upstairs, ignoring the cheerful piano duet floating from the living room. Leo and Amelia were playing, and when they finished, Amelia gave him a proud thumbs-up. “My little maestro, you were wonderful!” Leo beamed, blushing. “Only because you’re the best teacher!” A perfect picture of mother-son harmony. I continued up the stairs without a word, watching Leo’s smile vanish as he spotted me. Amelia quickly stood up. “Mrs. Carter, how are you feeling?” From the staircase, I gave a polite nod. “Much better, thank you. Please, don’t let me interrupt.” I didn’t dislike Amelia—I envied her. She wasn’t the other woman. She was Nathan’s unforgettable first love. I was the one who had married him, but the truth is, the one who isn’t loved is the real outsider. Nathan fell for her at eighteen. Last month, when Reed Corp declared bankruptcy, Amelia returned. She’d used all her savings to cover her family’s debts, and her music degree didn’t open many high-paying doors here. So, Nathan hired her as Leo’s piano teacher for $6,000 a month.

“New Mom is the best! I love my New Mom!” Leo’s voice echoed through the foyer. “Leo, I’m not—please don’t call me that,” Amelia replied, looking uncomfortable. Unhappy with her response, Leo wrapped his arms around her leg. “If you keep calling me ‘Leo,’ I’ll get mad! You have to call me ‘Lee-Lee’! You’re so much nicer than my mom—I like you best!” He shot a glance toward the stairs, making sure I was gone, then added, “Why don’t you just move in? I want to see you first thing every morning! Dad says it’s fine, and our house is huge! You could have any room you want!” Nathan had offered to let her stay to save the commute, but she’d politely declined, choosing to rent a place instead. “Leo, you should practice today’s piece,” Amelia gently reminded him. He shook his head, persistent. “Are you scared of my mom? Don’t be. Dad and I will protect you. She does whatever Dad says—she wouldn’t dare bother you.” Leo knew exactly how to twist the knife. I fastened my pearl earrings and walked downstairs slowly, deliberately. Amelia looked increasingly uneasy as I approached. “Amelia, you really should consider staying,” I said. “I know the commute is brutal. Please, don’t stand on ceremony. You’re more than welcome here.” Leo stared, completely thrown. Usually, if Nathan even mumbled Amelia’s name after a few drinks, I’d fall apart. He must have thought he’d found the ultimate weapon. But today, it just… didn’t land. “I want ice cream!” he demanded, trying a new tack. “Get me two! No—ten!” The only answer was the sound of the front door closing behind me. After days looking a mess in the hospital, I had a skincare appointment. My car was waiting. As the door clicked shut, Leo’s defiant expression finally crumbled. “Sir, your ice cream,” the housekeeper said, retrieving it from the freezer. “Who said I wanted any?!” He threw the tub to the floor, his eyes fixed on the closed door. Could Mom really not remember him?

When Nathan’s mother, Lydia Carter, found out Amelia was back and teaching Leo, she came over immediately, arms laden with luxury gift bags. She settled on the sofa next to Amelia, taking her hand affectionately. “Amelia, my dear,” she cooed. “You’ve been through so much. Oh, if only you and Nathan had ended up together from the start. He could have managed Reed Corp. You wouldn’t be in this position.” Amelia flushed. “Lydia, we shouldn’t talk about that now. It’s all in the past. I’m just grateful Nathan gave me this job.” “Why shouldn’t we?” Lydia gave her hand a pat. “With you teaching Leo, my mind is at ease. And you know Nathan is filing for divorce. You understand what that means, don’t you?” She lowered her voice. “Don’t you worry, dear. Leo adores you, and so do I. You’d fit right in. Besides, Nathan is fully intending to help get Reed Corp back on its feet.” Though Lydia knew I was home, she hadn’t announced her visit. I listened from a distance. Nathan liked Amelia, Leo liked Amelia, and clearly, so did his mother. Lydia had wanted Amelia as a daughter-in-law from day one. Amelia came from old money, the perfect match for the Carters. The moment Nathan met her, he was smitten. Lydia was thrilled, immediately starting wedding plans. The only problem was, Amelia didn’t feel the same. She turned Nathan down and left to study music abroad. Lydia, while disappointed, admired her ambition and independence. As for me, from a modest, ordinary family, I was labeled a gold-digger. Lydia was too polite to say it to my face, but her disdain was a constant presence. Sometimes, I wondered if Amelia had married Nathan from the start, maybe everyone would have been happier. A buzz from my phone snapped me from my thoughts—a notification that the insurance payout for the accident had cleared. I’d thought the crash would fade into a distant memory, but closing my eyes brought it all back, vivid and raw. It was pouring that night. Nathan and I were on the highway when his phone rang. I heard the voice on the other end clearly:

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