Category: English

The moment my wife saw her “first love” brag on Snapchat about his family’s estate being bought out for redevelopment, she couldn’t wait to drag me to City Hall to get a divorce. “Ethan, Logan’s family estate is being bought out by a mega-developer! I heard they’re offering a massive family compensation package. You know Logan’s situation is tight. I want to have a baby with him so we can claim the three-person premium package!” “Can we just get remarried after we get the money?” With that, she held up three fingers in front of me. “I swear, this baby won’t change how I feel about you. You’re the only one I love.” I looked into her seemingly sincere eyes and nodded slowly. My wife had no idea. The second she proposed divorcing me to have another man’s baby, any chance of us remarrying died. I was going to completely erase the name Ethan Vance from my life. And reclaim my real identity: Ethan Sterling, the sole heir of the developer buying out that land. 0 When Chloe dragged me from the car into City Hall to get our divorce ticket, the grin on her face was practically splitting her cheeks. “Don’t worry, Ethan. As soon as I get the property and the payout, I’ll divorce him and come straight back to you!” After making her grand promise, Chloe stood on her tiptoes and pecked my cheek a few times. “Smile! We’re basically getting a free luxury apartment out of this!” I didn’t say a word. As the red stamp slammed down on the divorce papers, a cold shiver ran through my chest. I felt none of her ecstatic joy. I knew that even without this buyout, Chloe would have divorced me eventually. Logan Hunt was her childhood sweetheart. He had moved abroad years ago due to some family trouble, only returning three years ago. On the day he landed, Chloe—who had never cooked a single meal in her life—actually spent hours in the kitchen preparing a massive feast to welcome him back. She was always too attentive to him. She’d remind him to bundle up when it was cold, and she’d personally drive across town to deliver medicine if he caught a sniffle. I had fought with her over these “little things” more times than I could count. Every time, Chloe would pacify me with sweet words, only to turn around and flirt with Logan again. Eventually, it got to the point where they’d hold hands right in front of me, and I’d just look away. I kept lying to myself, calling it “childhood friendship” that transcended boundaries. I still remember six months ago when Chloe had to go on a business trip. She told me she was only going with a female colleague. But later that weekend, I saw Logan’s Instagram post. They were hugging each other tightly at an amusement park. His caption read: *No matter how much time passes, you’re still my one and only.* After digging around, I found out the truth. The business trip was a complete lie. She had used it as an excuse to go on a romantic getaway with her little lover. “Ethan…” Chloe’s voice snapped me back to reality. “You know the construction near Logan’s place is getting really loud and unlivable now. Do you think he could temporarily move in with us?” I understood exactly what she was getting at. I nodded. “Sure. I’ll pack my things and move out tonight.” Hearing this, Chloe shook her head quickly. “I’m not trying to kick you out!” “There’s plenty of room for the three of us to live together. Besides, you’ve handled all the household chores for years. I wouldn’t be used to you being gone.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. To put it plainly, Chloe just wanted a free live-in maid. Not only did I have to take care of her daily life, but I also had to serve her lover. Six years of devotion had finally hit a dead end. “It’s fine. I’ll hire a moving truck…” “Chloe! Is the divorce finalized?” Before I could finish my sentence, Logan came wheeling a suitcase toward us. Chloe’s face instantly darkened. “I told you to wait for me at home! Why did you come to City Hall?” “I was just worried Ethan would be angry. I wanted to help explain things to him!” Logan casually wrapped one arm around Chloe’s waist, while his other hand slid down to rest on her flat stomach. It was a blatant declaration of ownership. No wonder she wanted to have a baby with him so badly. They had probably been sleeping together for a while. Seeing that I remained silent, Logan continued, “Don’t worry, buddy. Once the payout and the deed are in our hands, I’ll return Chloe to you in perfect condition.” As he spoke, he gave Chloe’s waist a stealthy pinch. My chest tightened. I didn’t want to stand there for another second. I turned around and walked away. If they dared to be this shameless in broad daylight, I couldn’t begin to imagine what they did behind my back. Swallowing the bitter pain in my throat, I quickened my pace, hailed a cab, and went straight back to our apartment. The first thing I did was pack. I only took a few basic changes of clothes. Anything associated with Chloe, I left behind. Just as I was about to walk out the door, my eyes caught the ring on my finger. It was a simple silver band we bought when we first started dating. Back then, we were broke and couldn’t afford a diamond. Even after our financial situation improved, I couldn’t bear to replace it. I felt like this ring had witnessed everything we went through. But Chloe’s hands had been bare for a long time. It seemed that the moment Logan returned, her wedding ring had conveniently disappeared. Right then, Chloe walked in, clinging to Logan’s arm. Seeing me staring at the ring on my finger, a flicker of guilt crossed her face. “You’ve been wearing that cheap thing for six years. It’s long overdue for an upgrade.” “On the day we remarry, I’ll buy you a brand-new one.” As she spoke, she reached out, slid the ring off my finger, and casually tossed it into the trash can. I forced a smile and said, “Okay.” “Ethan, I’m doing all of this for our future.” “A luxury apartment and a million-dollar payout aren’t pocket change.” I nodded, pretending to understand. As I turned to go downstairs, Chloe called out my name. “Ethan!” “Remember to text me your new address on Snapchat. I’ll come pick you up in a month.” I didn’t look back, and I didn’t answer. The moment I stepped out of the residential complex, my phone rang. “Mr. Sterling, do you need us to send a private helicopter to pick you up?” “No need,” I replied coldly. “I still have some loose ends to tie up here. I’ll return to headquarters in a month!” 0

The first time I met Chloe was six years ago on a busy street. She was trying to help an elderly woman who had fallen. But the moment Chloe touched her sleeve, the woman grabbed her tightly, screaming to the onlookers that Chloe had knocked her down. Naturally, the police got involved, and Chloe was taken to the station. Fortunately, my dashcam had recorded the entire incident. I went to the station and bailed her out. When we stepped outside, she sat on the curb and cried her eyes out. I thought she was just traumatized by the scam. Only later did I find out that day was actually the day Logan had boarded his flight to go abroad. After leaving our apartment, I rented a small condo to clear my head. In the evening, I decided to grab a bite to eat. Passing by a trendy restaurant, I noticed through the glass window a large group of people gathered around Logan, raising their glasses to toast him. Sitting right next to him, draped in his arms, was Chloe—my brand-new ex-wife. Chloe and I both had mild palates and hated spicy food, but Logan loved heavy, rich flavors. The restaurant was serving exactly what he liked. Inside, the venue was decorated with festive banners. Across the main wall hung a giant sign: *Wishing Chloe and Logan a Happy Marriage!* Those words felt like a physical blow to my chest. They had gone straight from my divorce to register their own marriage. No wonder Logan had been in such a rush at City Hall, bringing his luggage along. He literally couldn’t wait a single second. I stood outside the window, pulling my coat tighter around myself. The autumn air was brisk, but for some reason, I was shivering uncontrollably. My mind drifted back to six years ago. It was a similar autumn day when Chloe and I had our wedding. It was just as lively. She had looked into my eyes, reciting her vows, promising to love and cherish me forever. Now, those words were nothing but trash to her. With stinging eyes, I lowered my head and prepared to leave. Suddenly, the double doors of the private dining room were slammed open by Chloe’s parents. They rushed in, absolutely furious. Her father tore the banner down from the wall. “Chloe! What the hell are you doing?! How could you throw Ethan away for this loser Logan?!” “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” “Did you not hear about all the sketchy things he did while he was abroad? You go find Ethan right now and beg for his forgiveness! Otherwise, don’t ever call us your parents again!” I didn’t expect her parents to show up and crash their celebration for my sake. Their respect was probably the only comforting thing I had left from those six years. “Mom, Dad, you’ve got it all wrong!” Chloe scrambled to explain. “You already signed the marriage certificate! What is there to get wrong?!” her father roared. “Get a divorce right now!” Logan stood awkwardly to the side, his face shifting from pale to red. “Dad! Can we please talk about this at home? All our friends are here!” Chloe tried to coax him, switching to her usual spoiled tone. But her father wasn’t having it. “Home? If you don’t explain this right now, you are officially cut off from this family!” Seeing her father’s stubbornness, Chloe had no choice but to dismiss their guests. Once the room cleared, she finally confessed, “Dad! Ethan and I only got a paper divorce! Logan’s estate is being bought out next month. The developer pays compensation based on the number of registered family members. By temporarily marrying Logan, we can claim an extra luxury apartment and a massive payout. Ethan knows all about this! He agreed to remarry me once the check clears!” Hearing this, her father’s face turned bright red. He pointed a shaking finger at her, gasping for air. In a fit of rage, he grabbed a glass of water from the table and hurled it straight at Logan. “You brainless girl! Do you honestly think a guy like Ethan cares about some cheap apartment payout?” “Do you think you can just play with marriage like a game? You’re going to kill me! Get a divorce right now!” Seeing that her parents wouldn’t budge, Chloe finally lost her temper. “Mom, Dad! Even Ethan didn’t make a big deal out of this! Why are you so angry?!” “My marriage to Logan doesn’t need your approval anyway.” “Since you can’t stand to see me succeed, we’ll talk after the buyout money hits our account.” “When I have the deeds and the cash, you’ll see who was right!” Chloe grabbed Logan’s hand and stormed out of the restaurant. They flagged down a cab, but just as she was about to step inside, she spotted me standing by the window. Her face instantly contorted with rage. “Ethan! Was this your doing?!” 0

“Did you call my parents here on purpose to ruin my wedding?!” Chloe didn’t even give me a chance to speak before she pronounced me guilty. “I’m just trying to help Logan! A baby can get us hundreds of thousands of dollars more! Don’t you understand that?” “We agreed on this, and you said yes! Why do you have to be so difficult now? What is wrong with you?!” When I remained silent, she shrieked, “Say something!” “Ethan, I can’t believe you’re this two-faced. We’ve been married for six years, and I never knew you were this petty!” Yes, six years. And I never knew she was this heartless. “This has nothing to do with Ethan!” Her father walked out of the restaurant, his face grim. “If Logan hadn’t bragged about your marriage certificate on Snapchat, your mother and I would have been kept in the dark forever!” Her father thrust his phone in front of Chloe’s face. She glanced at the screen, her eyes flickering with panic. Without a word of apology, she pushed Logan into the cab, got in after him, and sped away. Once the cab disappeared down the street, my phone buzzed. It was a call from Chloe. She told me to step away from her parents before speaking. “My parents are just emotional right now, so I couldn’t say much. You need to talk to them and calm them down. Tell them we’re still deeply in love and they don’t need to worry.” “Oh, and make sure to mention our plan to remarry, so they don’t think I’m lying to them.” After laying out her orders, she noticed my silence. “Ethan? Why aren’t you speaking?” “Are you mad because I had a wedding ceremony with Logan today?” “Ugh, babe, if we’re going to scam the developer, we have to make it look real. Otherwise, the auditors will flag us for fraud, and that’s illegal!” “Honey, don’t be mad. You know you’re the only one I love. Check your Snapchat, I sent you a little surprise.” After she hung up, I opened Snapchat. It was a highly suggestive boudoir photo of Chloe, wearing nothing but a skimpy outfit with a fluffy bunny tail. *Don’t be mad anymore, okay?~ When we get remarried, I’ll make sure to make it up to you in bed.* I stared at the caption for a second, then deleted the entire chat history. That night, I sat down with Chloe’s parents for a long chat. They had always treated me like a son, and I didn’t want to lie to them. I told them honestly that I had no intention of ever getting back together with Chloe. I begged them not to pressure her, saying she had made her choice, and I sincerely wished her well. “Ethan,” her father said, his voice heavy with emotion. “You’ve loved Chloe for so long. Are you really okay with letting her go?” Whether I was okay with it or not didn’t matter anymore. Relationships aren’t a one-way street. Just because I wanted her didn’t mean she would ever choose me over Logan. Seeing my silence, her father sighed deeply. “Years ago, when my investments failed and we were drowning in debt, it was your support that saved us. I’ve always considered you my true son-in-law. But I won’t force you. If you think a divorce is best, your mother and I will back you up 100%.” He squeezed my hand. “It’s Chloe’s loss. She was too foolish to cherish a good man.” His words brought a lump to my throat. I swallowed my tears, chatted with them a bit longer, reminded them to take care of their health, and left. By the time I got back to my condo, I had completely lost my appetite. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. It was a direct message from Logan. It was a photo of him and Chloe cuddled up in bed. *Thanks for stepping in and calming her parents down, buddy. They aren’t mad at us anymore.* *Are you free tomorrow? I’d love to buy you dinner to show my appreciation.* I tossed my phone aside and ignored it. This wasn’t the first time Logan had tried to rub things in my face. When I was still Chloe’s husband, it used to make my blood boil. But now that we were divorced, I didn’t even have the right to care. Yet, I didn’t expect such a petty move to trigger Chloe to call me again. 0

Chloe called me in the middle of the night. “Ethan, why aren’t you replying to Logan’s messages? He just wants to thank you.” “We owe you one for handling my parents today. Who knows how long they would have made a scene otherwise.” “Are you free tomorrow? Logan and I really want to take you out for dinner.” I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. “No, I have to go to the office tomorrow.” “But if you don’t come, Logan will think you’re holding a grudge. Plus, I’m planning on bringing him into the company to help out. That way, you won’t have to carry such a heavy workload anymore.” “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about the company anymore.” The company was a startup I had built from the ground up and gifted to Chloe as a wedding present. She used to promise me she’d cherish it forever. She used to say that even though she was the CEO, I held the real power. She had given me absolute authority. But everything changed the moment Logan returned. Apparently, a company generating tens of millions of dollars a year couldn’t compare to a single free apartment. The location of Logan’s estate wasn’t even in a high-end district. If Chloe wanted real estate, we could have bought dozens of luxury condos. The moment she used that absurd excuse to demand a divorce, I knew our six-year marriage was a hollow shell. Holding on would only drag us both into endless misery. “Chloe, are you sure you want to hand all my active projects over to Logan?” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. The clients and resources for those projects were built entirely on my personal network. Without my connections, those deals would collapse instantly. “We’re going to be family soon anyway, so there’s no need to draw such hard lines. Besides, you’ve been handling too many projects. It’s time to delegate.” *Family?* Chloe really thought of herself as some ancient queen, expecting me to peacefully coexist with her concubine. “Do whatever you want.” I hung up. First, she divorced me. Now, she was using Logan to strip away my authority. The timeline of her actions was so tight it made my blood run cold. She was in such a rush to push me out. The next morning, I went to the office as usual to wrap things up. The moment I walked into my office, I saw Logan sitting in my chair, casually playing with my ID badge. Seeing me enter, his hand flicked, dropping the badge onto the hardwood floor. He deliberately ground his leather shoe over it before stepping toward me. “Oh, look who’s early. Ready to hand over your crown, buddy?” “Ethan, I’ve got to say, you’re the most pathetic man I’ve ever met. Imagine handing your own woman over to another guy.” I sneered. “If I’m done playing with her, what’s wrong with giving her to you?” Logan’s face instantly darkened. He lunged forward, grabbing my collar, and let out a cold laugh. “You think I buy that?” “If you really didn’t care about Chloe, why are you still lingering around after the divorce?” “Aren’t you two just ‘fake married’?” I countered. Logan laughed out loud. “Ethan, are you stupid or just incredibly naive?” “Do you seriously think Chloe is ever going to remarry you?” He leaned in, his face dripping with smug satisfaction. “Let me tell you a secret. Even after the buyout money cleared, Chloe won’t divorce me.” “In her heart, I’m the only one who matters.” I couldn’t argue with that, nor did I want to waste my breath arguing with him. I walked over to the desk, gathered a few files, and turned to leave. But Logan grabbed my arm, refusing to let me go. The second he saw Chloe walking down the hallway toward the office, his demeanor flipped instantly. His eyes filled with tears, and he adopted a fragile, victimized look. “Ethan, I know you hate me. But Chloe already handed these projects to me. You can’t just take them back.” He whimpered, putting his hand over my files. Before I could even push him away, he threw himself onto the floor. “Ethan! What are you doing?!” Chloe slammed the door open and rushed to Logan’s side, kneeling down to check on him. “I’m fine, Chloe. Don’t blame Ethan.” “He’s right. He’s been running these projects from the start. It’s not fair for me to just take over.” Chloe’s eyes went from worried to absolutely furious as she glared up at me. “Ethan! What is wrong with you?! Didn’t I already talk to you about this?” “They’re just a few projects! Is it worth getting violent over? I didn’t know you were this petty. If you want projects so badly, I can fund a few new ones for you!” “Is our company really that desperate for cash?” I looked down at Chloe, a wave of profound disappointment washing over me. Every single time Logan was involved, regardless of the truth, I was always the villain. She was right. The company didn’t lack money. It just lacked a free apartment. “I didn’t touch him. Believe what you want. As for the projects, if he wants them, he can have them.” Whether the clients would actually agree to work with an incompetent freeloader like Logan was another story entirely. Chloe stared at me, momentarily stunned by my cold indifference. She told Logan to step out so we could talk alone. Once the door closed, her angry expression softened, and she reached out to grab my hand, offering a sweet smile. “Logan’s new to the corporate world, so he doesn’t know how things work. Don’t take what I said to heart.” I looked at her and let out a sharp chuckle. “So, you knew he was putting on a show the whole time?” 0

“Logan just joined the company. I couldn’t embarrass him in front of everyone, or he’d have a hard time establishing authority.” So, to help her lover establish authority, her first move was to step on me. “Ethan, try to be understanding. It’s just a temporary marriage and a baby. Do you have to push me at every turn?” “I already promised you that once the divorce is finalized, I won’t have anything to do with him. Why are you making such a big deal out of this? Can’t you just be a man and show some maturity?” “I’ll transfer some money to your account. Why don’t you take a vacation? Go travel for a bit and stay out of our way.” “Don’t worry, Logan and I won’t do anything real. I will always belong to you.” Looking at her face, which was twisted into an expression of utter disappointment in *me*, my heart completely shattered. “I get it,” I said softly. “I’ll hand over all my projects to Logan. I won’t interfere with the company anymore.” “Ethan, that’s not what I meant…” I nodded, not wanting to hear another word. I had originally planned to wrap up some loose ends before leaving, but now, there was no point. In Chloe’s world, Logan was all she needed. Nothing else mattered. I turned and walked out of the office without looking back. Over the next few days, I stopped going to the office entirely, trying my best to stay out of their lives. But Logan was relentless. Every time some trivial thing happened between him and Chloe, he’d send me updates on Snapchat. *Ethan, the mattress you picked out is really soft. You’ve got great taste. The silk pajamas fit me perfectly too.* *Ethan, I noticed you left some luxury watches in the closet. I’m going to borrow a few. You don’t mind, right?* *I’ll take your silence as a yes.* *By the way, your wife is amazing in bed. I’ll make sure to take good care of her for you.* As the messages grew more graphic and disgusting, I blocked his notifications. I knew Chloe. Since they were living under the same roof, even without Logan’s bragging, I knew exactly what was happening. I stayed holed up in my condo for days. On the night before my departure, a close friend insisted on throwing me a farewell party, so I finally went out. He booked a private room at an upscale lounge. When I arrived, a row of gorgeous female hosts was lined up in the room. My friend clapped me on the shoulder. “Take your pick.” I looked at him, confused. “What is this?” “Come on, man. I know what happened. There are plenty of fish in the sea. These girls are top-tier. Look at those faces, those bodies. None of them are worse than Chloe.” “If you ask me, Chloe is a fool. She had a golden husband and threw him away for some broke loser like Logan.” “Without you, would her company ever have reached this level? If she were still drowning in her father’s debt, Logan wouldn’t even look at her twice!” I knew my friends were just trying to stand up for me. But just because Chloe was cheap didn’t mean I was going to degrade myself to get back at her. “You know me better than that,” I said. “Send them away.” But before my friend could dismiss the hosts, the heavy doors of the private room were pushed open. Chloe stepped inside, clutching Logan’s hand. My friend’s face instantly dropped. He nudged the guy next to him and muttered, “Who the hell invited her? Didn’t I say this was a private party for Ethan?” “I swear, man, everyone here is in our circle. Nobody would have invited Chloe!” Ignoring the tense atmosphere, Chloe swept her eyes over the female hosts and marched straight toward me. “Ethan! We just got divorced, and you’re already in a place like this picking out girls?!” 0

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Someone tried to clear the air. “Hey, it’s just a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding.” “What misunderstanding? If Logan hadn’t told me you were here ‘selecting a harem,’ I’d still be in the dark!” “Ethan, we were married for six years! Did I ever treat you badly? How could you do this to me?!” Chloe screamed at the top of her lungs, completely ignoring the crowd. Eventually, my friend ushered everyone out, leaving only the four of us in the massive room. “Chloe, shouldn’t Ethan be the one asking you that question?” My friend snapped, unable to hold back. “How did he treat you all these years? You know better than anyone! He would never cheat on you. But you? Ever since Logan came back from abroad, have you given Ethan a single shred of your attention?” “And now, for a little bit of buyout money, you want to have a baby with Logan and divorce Ethan? Let’s not forget how Ethan paid off your father’s massive debts. Do you really think he cares about some cheap apartment?” Faced with a barrage of questions, Chloe’s face turned pale. She glared at me. “Ethan, is this what you think of me?” “Was my father’s debt paid off solely by you? Did I have no hand in building the company? I discussed the apartment situation with you beforehand, and now you’re throwing all the blame on me?” “I told you, the divorce is temporary! We will remarry! I just need a month!” “My relationship with Logan is strictly business. But what about you? What are you doing behind my back? Hiring escorts?!” “Chloe, watch your mouth!” my friend barked. “Who said Ethan is hiring escorts? You guys are divorced! You’re already on husband number two, and you won’t even let Ethan move on?!” “This is between me and my husband! Since when do you get a say?!” Chloe’s face flushed with anger, tears welling in her eyes. It seemed like she was on the verge of a breakdown. Seeing her emotional state, Logan stepped forward, tugging her sleeve to comfort her, but Chloe violently shook him off. She turned and glared at him with cold fury. This was probably the first time she had ever looked at Logan like that since his return. “You get out too! I need to talk to him alone.” “Chloe…” Logan whimpered, trying to look pathetic. “Get out!” Sensing her genuine rage, Logan reluctantly slunk out of the room. “Ethan, you know my personality. I don’t like to repeat myself. Do you have to make me angry?” “We could have handled this maturely.” “If you didn’t want to do this, you could have told me from the start. Why did you agree to it only to pull a stunt like this now?” I just looked at her, my voice devoid of emotion. “If I had said no, would you have listened?” Chloe got one thing right: I knew her personality perfectly. That was why I knew I never had a choice in our divorce. If I had refused. She would have made my life a living hell, using emotional abuse and the silent treatment to force my hand. Instead of dragging it out, it was better to cut the cord. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I forced you?” “And now you’re here with these girls just to get back at me? Ethan, when did you become so childish?” “Can you stop using these pathetic stunts just to get my attention? I am so exhausted.” “Fine, I admit I haven’t paid enough attention to you lately. I’ll make an effort to change, okay?” “No need,” I said flatly. “Since we’re divorced, let’s not talk about remarrying ever again.” “Ethan? What did you say?” Chloe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I suggest you think carefully before you speak. If you walk out that door today, I don’t care if you beg me on your knees later, I will never take you back!” I turned around and walked out without a single backward glance, ignoring her frantic screams behind me. I checked the time, caught a cab to my condo to grab my bags, and headed straight for the airport. As soon as I got into the cab, my friend called. “Ethan, where did you go? Chloe has completely lost her mind. She’s smashing everything in the VIP room.” “I’m on my way to the airport.” My friend went quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally, he just muttered, “Safe travels, man.” “Thanks,” I replied. Suddenly, a massive semi-truck appeared ahead, its high beams blindingly bright. I yelled at the driver to steer away as I slammed the phone down. In the next second, the truck crashed directly into our side. *BOOM!* I felt my body shatter into pieces. The distant wail of sirens and chaotic voices faded in and out of my consciousness. “Hello? Is this the family of Ethan Vance? He’s been in a horrific car accident and is currently in critical condition. Please come to Mercy Hospital immediately.” Through the haze of my fading consciousness, I heard Chloe’s cold sneer through the phone line. “What is his game? He just broke up with me, and now he’s staging a car accident to trick me into coming back?” “Who does he think I am? Tell him that unless he gets his ass over here right now and kneels down to beg for my forgiveness, I will never forgive him!” With that, Chloe hung up the phone in a rage. I let out a bitter, silent laugh. Our six-year marriage had finally reached its absolute end. I just never expected the final curtain to be drawn with my life on the line…

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My CEO girlfriend promised she’d marry me the moment I took her startup, AuraTech, public. I worked myself to the bone, pulling endless all-nighters. Finally, in our seventh year together, we hit the milestone. But instead of putting a ring on my finger, Chloe turned around and signed a marriage license with Julian—her golden boy, the one who got away. She even threw a lavish, high-profile wedding to celebrate. On the day of their wedding, my mother, unable to take the shock, collapsed and was rushed to the ICU in critical condition. I literally fell to my knees, begging Chloe to let me withdraw my own money from our joint future fund so I could pay the $50,000 hospital deductible. Instead, she clung to Julian’s arm, laughed in my face in front of all our colleagues, and called me a delusional psychopath before having security beat me and drag me out. I had to watch my mother take her very last breath in that cold hospital bed. Meanwhile, Chloe and Julian were popping champagne and blowing cash at an upscale club. After burying my mother, I went back to our apartment to pack my things. That was when I caught Chloe’s brand-new luxury SUV shaking violently in the driveway. With her clothes disheveled and fresh hickeys staining her neck, Chloe looked at me with a flicker of guilt. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Ethan,” she stammered. “We were just… testing the car’s suspension.” I just smiled. A cold, empty smile. She had no idea. From the moment my mother died, I—the sole developer who held the core algorithm to her entire company—decided to make sure she lost absolutely everything.

I had just finished packing my bags when Chloe walked through the door. Her cheeks were flushed. The moment she saw me, her smile vanished. Her eyebrows knitted together as she slammed her hand down on my suitcase. “Are you throwing a tantrum? Packing your bags just because I had security throw you out of the wedding?” “Can you be any more petty, Ethan? There were so many high-profile guests there! If they found out you were my boyfriend, do you have any idea how badly that would have ruined Julian’s big day?” Hearing her words, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. A few days ago, at her wedding, Chloe had called me a madman in front of everyone. She had watched with a cold smile as security guards insulted me, beat me, and threw me onto the street like trash. My colleagues had pointed fingers at me, gossiping that I was a gold-digger trying to ruin the CEO’s wedding for a payout. But that money was mine. And Chloe was supposed to be my girlfriend. I chuckled darkly and pushed her hand off my suitcase. Chloe frowned, her lips thinning into a hard line. “Fine. Stop acting like you’re the victim here. Why are you throwing such a massive fit? Did your mother say something to you again?” “Tell you what. I’ll go to the hospital with you tomorrow and explain things to her. Happy now?” See my mother? She wasn’t even fit to utter her name. My mother had been sick for a long time. Her biggest wish was to see me settled down before she passed. But Chloe kept dragging her feet, claiming she “wasn’t ready to settle down” and “wanted to enjoy her youth.” Yet, two weeks ago, when Julian posted on Snapchat about his parents pressuring him to get married, she panicked. “Ethan, Julian’s parents are forcing his hand. I’m just going to have a fake wedding with him to get them off his back. It’s just a show.” And then, she went ahead and legally registered their marriage, throwing a massive wedding for the world to see. When my mother heard the news, the shock sent her into cardiac arrest. The doctor told me she needed immediate surgery. I begged Chloe for my money, but she wouldn’t even transfer $50,000 for the surgery. My own hard-earned money. In the end, I could only watch the woman who raised me turn into a cold corpse. Thinking of this, the anger in my chest threatened to spill over. I closed my eyes, forcing a cold smile. “No need. I…” Before I could tell her my mother was dead, Chloe cut me off impatiently. “Alright, alright! Is this about the money I didn’t give you? I’ll transfer it to you right now, okay? I only kept it because I was thinking about our future.” I wanted to laugh. I really did. Over the last few years, I hadn’t even seen a penny of my paycheck. She had linked my salary card directly to what she called our “Joint Future Fund.” To take any money out, I needed her permission. And even if she approved it, I had to find a way to pay it back. She called it “saving for our future.” And back then, like a naive idiot, I actually believed her. Only later did I find out she was using that very fund to buy Julian luxury cars and pay the down payment on his penthouse. Yet, when it came to me, she was incredibly stingy. She wouldn’t even spare a dime for my mother’s life-saving surgery. I reached out and blocked her fingers on her phone. My face was completely expressionless. “Don’t bother. I don’t need it anymore.” Chloe froze. She shot me a cold, suspicious glare. “Don’t need it? Oh, I get it. You were lying to me! You didn’t need money for her. You just wanted to stop my wedding with Julian!” “Ethan, it was just a wedding ceremony. I don’t get why you and your mother are making such a big, dramatic deal out of it.” She had completely forgotten. She had forgotten her promise to give me a grand wedding, and she had forgotten my mother’s dying wish. I smiled bitterly. “Yeah. My mom and I were blind. We shouldn’t have cared about you at all.” Chloe’s face darkened instantly. I didn’t want to waste another breath on her. I grabbed my suitcase and pushed past her. Right outside the door, I ran into Julian. He was holding a condom wrapper—peach scented, the flavor I hated most. “Chloe, babe, you left this in the backseat of the car. I brought it up for you… Oh, Ethan? What are you doing here?” I stared at his smug face, then down at the wrapper. My heart was dead quiet. “Just packing my bags. Happy wedding, by the way.” With that, I walked past him. This time, Chloe didn’t try to stop me. She was too busy looking at Julian with eyes full of sweetness. “Ethan! If you want to throw a tantrum and live on the streets, go ahead! I won’t stop you!” “But remember, you are the one walking out. I didn’t kick you out!” I walked down the stairs to her cheerful voice. Looking up at the bedroom window as the lights flickered on, I let out a cold laugh. I pulled out my phone and sent my resignation letter straight to the company’s HR inbox.

The next morning, I went to the office early to pack my desk. A few colleagues were already whispering nearby. “Some people really thought they were the co-owner just because they’ve been with the CEO for a few years. Turns out, he was just her little side-toy.” “I knew Chloe and Julian had something going on. Ethan used to act like he was the official boyfriend and banned us from talking about them. Now? Chloe married Julian. Talk about a slap in the face!” If this were the old me, my face would have turned red, and I would have tried to explain myself. But now, I felt nothing. I walked straight to the HR department and submitted my physical resignation form. “We’re processing it,” the HR rep said, not even looking up. “Once the CEO signs off, you’re free to go.” I nodded and went back to my cubicle to pack my personal belongings. When I picked up the framed photo of Chloe, my mother, and me, memories flooded my mind. Years ago, my father died in a car accident, and my mother fell gravely ill from grief. I brought her to the hospital, which was where I met Chloe, who was working as a student nurse. To pay for my mother’s medical bills, I worked day and night. Chloe was the one who looked after my mother when I couldn’t, and she was the one who held me when I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Back then, even when I was covered in dirt and completely broke, she loved me with everything she had. But once our startup took off, everything changed. “Ethan, I’m so scared that once you get rich, you’ll leave me.” Using that insecurity as an excuse, she took back all my shares. Overnight, I went from the co-founder to a mere team lead. She put me on a basic salary. And eventually, she took even that basic salary away, locking it in her “Future Fund.” Six months ago, Julian returned to the country. Chloe immediately made him the Senior Vice President, offering him a seven-figure salary. She threw a massive welcome party for him, and when the team cheered, she even shared a drink with him from the same glass. She completely forgot that day was also my birthday. That was the moment I realized this relationship had reached its expiration date. I took the photo, carefully cut Chloe out of it, and tossed her half into the trash. “Oh my god, Chloe and Julian look so perfect together! Like a match made in heaven!” My colleagues’ sycophantic voices echoed through the office. I looked up and saw Chloe and Julian walking in, their fingers locked, showing off their matching wedding rings. Chloe beamed at the compliments. “Everyone has been working so hard lately,” she announced. “HR, double everyone’s end-of-year bonuses this year!” The office erupted into wild cheers. The atmosphere instantly became electric. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” someone chanted. Chloe’s cheeks flushed a deep red. She didn’t look like the cold, ruthless CEO she usually was. She leaned in and kissed Julian on the cheek, but Julian turned his head at the last second, catching her straight on the lips. The office went wild, clapping and cheering. Watching them, I felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over my head. My heart was cold as iron. Chloe’s eyes were filled with adoration, but as she glanced around, her eyes landed on me. Her smile instantly froze.

“Ethan? You… when did you get here?” The room went dead silent. Everyone turned their gaze toward me. I paused for a second, my face completely expressionless. “Just got here. Why?” Chloe’s face soured, clearly annoyed that I had ruined her moment. She waved her hand to dismiss the crowd. “Since you’re here, pack up the files for the Zenith Group partnership. Hand them over to Julian.” Hand them over to Julian? I had been working on this project day and night for over six months. We were right on the verge of signing the contract, and she wanted me to hand it over to Julian with a single sentence? I let out a cold laugh, my eyes narrowing. “And why should I do that?” Chloe’s eyebrows shot up. She scoffed, “I am the CEO. You do what I tell you to do. Since when do you get to ask why?” “I’ve thought this through. Giving this project to Julian is the best move for the company. If you don’t like it, you can leave!” I didn’t argue. I just nodded. “Fine. I’ll leave. But don’t regret this later.” I walked to the exit, pulled out my phone, and replied to the email from Zenith Group’s CEO, accepting their job offer. Zenith Group was a Fortune 500 company. Their short-form video platform was sweeping the globe. They were a titan in the tech and entertainment industry. What Chloe didn’t know was that the core AI recommendation algorithm I created was something Zenith Group had been begging to buy for years. The only reason they were even considering partnering with a small company like AuraTech was because of me. Without me, AuraTech’s system would collapse. Suddenly, Chloe ran out of the office like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, blocking my path. “Ethan! Have I been too nice to you lately? How dare you speak to me in that tone!” In her mind, she probably thought I was still the same obedient dog who would crawl back to her the moment she snapped her fingers. Julian stood beside her, a smug smirk on his face. He stepped forward, acting concerned. “Ethan, you shouldn’t talk to Chloe like that. What if she actually fires you? What are you going to do then?” I frowned and pushed him aside. He took a dramatic stumble backward, pretending to lose his balance, and collapsed onto the floor. Chloe’s face turned bright red with rage. She slapped me hard across the face, then rushed to help Julian up. “Ethan! I’ve clearly spoiled you too much, making you forget your place! How dare you lay a hand on Julian right in front of me!” “Apologize to him right now! Or I swear to God, I will fire you!” I touched my stinging cheek and laughed. “No need to fire me. I already resigned. Sign the papers.” Chloe, who had been expecting me to beg for forgiveness, froze. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You resigned? How dare you!” I shook my head slowly. “It’s not just a resignation, Chloe. I’m dumping you, too.” “I’m done playing this toxic game with you.”

Chloe’s chest heaved violently. Her face was flushed with anger. Without another word, she pulled up her phone and approved my resignation on the spot. “Ethan! Don’t forget that your mother is in the hospital! Once you leave this company, once you leave me, don’t come crying to me when she’s dying on the street!” Julian added with a sneer, pretending to be helpful: “Exactly, Ethan. You’re just an aging developer. Who else is going to hire you besides a generous boss like Chloe?” “Don’t let your petty pride ruin your mother’s life, and your own future.” I stared dead into Chloe’s eyes, my voice cold as ice. “My mother? She’s already dead.” Chloe froze. A flash of panic crossed her face, but she quickly masked it with a cold shrug. “Oh, she’s dead? When? Why didn’t you tell me?” “None of your business. Keep your fake sympathy to yourself.” Chloe’s face darkened completely. Julian smirked, wrapping his arm around her waist. He looked at me condescendingly. “Chloe, babe, let’s go. I already set up a dinner with Mr. Sterling from Zenith Group tonight. Once we sign that deal, our company is going straight to the moon!” “As for Ethan, let him go bury his dead mom.” Chloe’s eyes lit up with excitement. She glared at me one last time. “Fine. If he wants to leave, let him. He’ll regret this soon enough!” With that, she took Julian’s hand and they walked away, looking like the perfect couple. Me? Regret? I’d love to see who regrets what. I pulled out my phone and shot a quick message to Mr. Sterling. That evening, I arrived at the VIP dining hall of the luxury hotel. Just as I stepped in, I heard Chloe’s voice from behind. “Ethan? What the hell are you doing here?” “Did you follow us here to ruin our deal with Mr. Sterling?!” Julian immediately chimed in, dripping with sarcasm. “Ethan, are you still mad because Chloe gave me your project?” “Even if you’re jealous, you can’t just crash a business dinner. Did you forget how you got kicked out of the wedding?” I crossed my arms and smirked. “Crash? What if I told you Mr. Sterling invited me?” Julian let out a loud laugh. “Chloe, you need to get your ex some mental help. He’s completely lost it. Do you have any idea who Mr. Sterling is?” “Inviting a low-level tech grunt like him? In his dreams!” Chloe’s face twisted in embarrassment. She stepped forward and slapped me again. “Ethan, go play crazy somewhere else! Mr. Sterling inviting you? What a joke!” “If it weren’t for Julian’s connections, even I wouldn’t be able to get a meeting with him! You think you can just summon him with a text?” I looked at her calmly. “Actually, yes. One text is all it takes. Unlike this useless fraud next to you.” “A fraud?” Chloe laughed mockingly. “If Julian is a fraud, what does that make you? You’re just a parasite who lived off my company. You actually think you’re hot shit? You’re insane!” Julian stepped up, pointing a finger at me. “Ethan, I can let your insults slide, but you do not disrespect Mr. Sterling! He could ruin our entire lives with a single word!” Chloe raised her hand again. “Did you hear him? Apologize to Julian right now, and get the hell out of here!” I caught her wrist, looking at her smug, vicious smile. “And if I don’t?” “Then I will blacklist you from the entire tech industry! I will make sure you never get a job in this country again!” I laughed out loud. “Blacklist me?” Chloe thought she had me cornered. Her smile grew wider. “That’s right! You’re nothing but a nobody, Ethan! Julian has elite connections. He got us a meeting with Mr. Sterling. He can ruin you with one phone call!” “Oh really?” I smiled. “Are you absolutely sure he’s the one who got you this meeting?” “Of course! If you get on your knees and beg Julian right now, I might ask him to be merciful. But you have to kneel!” Chloe stood tall, her chest puffed out. Julian stepped in front of me, looking down his nose. “Ethan, I really didn’t want to do this to you. But this is what Chloe wants.” He waited, expecting me to drop to my knees. Right at that moment, a booming voice echoed from behind him. “Who wants him to kneel? Who dares make him kneel?!” The room gasped. “It’s Mr. Sterling! The CEO of Zenith Group is here!”

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On the day Ethan Pierce won the company’s annual Elite Performance Award, the host asked him who he wanted to thank the most. My feet were already on the steps, ready to walk up to the stage with him. But his eyes bypassed me completely. He looked right past me, focusing on his assistant, Chloe Miller, who was standing under the bright spotlight. He touched the hidden pendant around his neck, smiled, and said into the microphone: “Without Chloe—without her staying by my side through the hardest ten years of my life—I would never have made it to this executive suite!” Under the giant screen, they held each other tight, tears streaming down their faces. They looked exactly like a couple deeply in love. I stood in the dark, gently rubbing my slightly swollen lower belly. Then, I pulled out my phone and dialed the clinic. “Yes. I’m calling to confirm the abortion.” “Vivian, are you sure? I remember how hard you and Ethan tried to conceive this baby. Are you really doing this?” I looked at the two stars of the night on the stage. The flashing lights and roaring applause drowned me out. It was as if I wasn’t the one who had spent a whole decade dragging Ethan out of the mud. It was as if Chloe was the one who had been there all along. Swallowing the bitter pain in my chest, I spoke into the phone, my voice trembling but firm: “Yes. I am sure. Book the procedure.” The doctor fell silent. He knew better than anyone how much time and money I had spent just to get pregnant. Countless prenatal checkups, endless ultrasounds. I used to ask the doctor a million anxious questions every week, pouring my entire soul into this pregnancy. After all, we had been trying to conceive. For three long years. Who would have thought that the words “abort the baby” would ever come out of my mouth? “Vivian, I respect your decision,” the doctor sighed. “But your body is naturally fragile. If you go through with this, you might never be able to get pregnant again. Plus—” I cut him off. “I’ve made up my mind, Dr. Reynolds.” On stage, a romantic French love song began to play, pushing the atmosphere to a climax. Ethan dropped to one knee. Just like the dozens of times he had passionately proposed to me in private, he looked up at Chloe and said: “Will you walk with me down the path of my future career, side by side, as my partner in everything?” The crowd went wild. Chloe covered her mouth, tears of joy sparkling in her eyes as she stood there, looking like the happiest woman in the world. It was a perfect fairytale scene. I looked down at the ring finger on my left hand, where half of the bone was slightly crooked. A cold laugh escaped my lips. I had actually believed Ethan when he promised he would publicly announce our ten-year secret marriage at this gala. It was all a lie. This public proposal was premeditated. The only problem was, the bride-to-be. Wasn’t me. So, what did my ten years of sacrifice mean? To pay for his Ivy League tuition and his startup dreams, I had played the piano at late-night gigs until I almost died of exhaustion. I had literally broken my ring finger on the keys. What did that mean now? When Ethan found out I had ruined my finger for him, he had knelt outside my door for a whole day and night, begging me to marry him. He had looked just as madly in love with me then as he did with Chloe now. The moment Chloe whispered her “Yes” to his proposal, I turned and walked away from the noise. When Ethan clipped my wings years ago, I lost the ability to sit at a grand piano and feel the keys properly. Because of him, I had abandoned my greatest passion. I had filed down my sharp edges, hidden my pride as a world-class heiress, and reduced myself to a quiet housewife. I had traded my dreams for groceries and laundry. But today, as I mentally pulled the dusty cover off my old piano, I suddenly remembered— I was once the most dazzling, proudest pianist under the spotlight. Yet, looking at my calloused hands now, I barely recognized myself. Ethan didn’t get home until very late. And he brought Chloe with him. Only this time, they were holding hands. Seeing that I was still awake, Ethan quickly let go of her fingers. He tried to act natural, frowning at me: “Why aren’t you in bed? Did you forget you have to do the weekly grocery run at the farmers’ market tomorrow morning?” For the twelve years I had been with him, I had managed every single detail of this house. Twelve years. I had never complained. I didn’t even look at him. I just replied flatly: “I have a clinic appointment tomorrow. I won’t be doing the groceries.” Hearing about the clinic, his eyes lit up, and his tone softened a bit: “Right, you need to get more checkups. We worked so hard for this baby; we can’t let anything go wrong.” Then, his gaze fell on my bare ring finger. His voice dropped. “Where’s your wedding ring?” “Oh,” I said casually. “I took it off when I took a shower. It’s on the sink.” Maybe because he felt guilty about what happened at the gala with Chloe, he didn’t push it. “I’m starving. Go make us two bowls of scallion noodles. Chloe doesn’t like eggs or cilantro, so watch the ingredients.” My fingernails dug into my palms. A wave of ice rushed through my veins. We had been together for twelve years. How did he treat me? When I had severe cramps during my period, he would order me iced boba tea. I would be curled up on the couch, unable to speak from the pain, and he would yell at me for being ungrateful and dramatic. I hated vinegar in my noodles, but he would always place a bowl dripping with vinegar in front of me. I had told him my preferences a thousand times, but Ethan never cared enough to remember. He just called me high-maintenance. And here I was, thinking he was just a man who didn’t know how to love. Turns out, he knew exactly how to care. He just didn’t care about me.

“Order takeout. I’m tired today.” Beside him, Chloe glared at Ethan in annoyance before putting on her sweet, fake act: “Ethan, she’s pregnant. Pregnant women are fragile. How could you let her cook? I’m fine being a little hungry. We can’t make Vivian work.” Hearing that Chloe was hungry, Ethan’s temper flared instantly. “What is your problem, Vivian? If you’re mad that I didn’t announce our marriage tonight, just say it! Why are you giving me attitude now?” “Can you stop acting like a spoiled child? Chloe worked from dawn till dusk for this gala. Do you think everyone is like you, just staying at home all day, doing nothing and living off my money?” He dumped all his frustration on me, just like he always did. He never cared about my feelings. Seeing that I remained silent, he added bitterly: “Don’t forget who paid for this house and who has been supporting us for the last ten years. Without me, could you even survive?” “Whatever. I don’t want to fight tonight. It’s a celebration, and you’re ruining the mood!” I looked at Ethan’s face, twisted with anger because he wanted to defend Chloe. It was so incredibly ironic. From beginning to end, what did I do wrong? I just said I didn’t want to cook. Was that a crime? “Ethan, you swore to me that you would announce our ten-year marriage at the gala tonight. Did you do it?” “I’m not even fighting with you. My silence is the greatest mercy I’m giving you. What right do you have to yell at me?” I didn’t bottle it up this time. Because this time, I genuinely felt disgusted by my own past tolerance. Seeing the tension rise, Chloe gave me a smug, subtle smirk. Then, she clung to Ethan’s arm and sighed softly: “Ethan, everyone knows how much you’ve sacrificed for this marriage. But Vivian is still throwing a tantrum over a public announcement.” “Doesn’t she know that going public with our corporate partnership is the only way to take your career to the next level?” By the end of her sentence, Chloe’s voice was barely a whisper, making her look like the victim. I almost laughed out loud. Ethan looked like a dog with its tail stepped on. He roared: “Vivian Vance, do you have a conscience? Everything I do is for you, and instead of appreciating it, you mock me?” “If it weren’t for the baby in your belly, I would have divorced you a long time ago!” Chloe clung tighter to his arm, looking like a delicate, helpless flower. Ethan’s tone softened instantly as he looked at her, then turned back to me: “Fine, Vivian.” “You’re pregnant. Stop throwing tantrums. It’s bad for the baby. Go to sleep. I’ll drive you to your checkup tomorrow.” In his eyes, any emotion I showed was just “throwing a tantrum.” Any half-hearted apology he gave was a favor I had to accept, otherwise I was just “petty.” He treated me like this only because I had spent a decade acting like his loyal, desperate puppy. I had lowered my standards to the floor, given up my music, and turned myself into his shadow. This was my own fault. The next morning, Ethan slammed my bedroom door open. He stood over me while I was still half-asleep, furious. “What is up with the suitcases on the floor? Where do you think you’re going?” Where? To leave you, and this city, forever. I rubbed my eyes and said naturally:

“I signed up for a pregnancy wellness retreat. Just to clear my head.” He didn’t suspect a thing. “Fine. Just be careful. Stop running around like a child. Remember you’re pregnant.” “Chloe has a fever. Get out of bed. We need to drop her off at the clinic first. I’ll drive both of you.” “Okay,” I replied. My appointment was this morning anyway. I didn’t want to delay it, so I didn’t argue. The door slammed shut. By the time I finished packing and went down to the garage, Chloe was already sitting comfortably in the passenger seat. Seeing me approach, she made a show of struggling to sit up, asking weakly: “I’m so sorry, Vivian. I accidentally sat in your seat.” Before she could move, Ethan pushed her back down. He gave me a cold, commanding look: “Chloe gets motion sickness. Let her sit in the front.” For the past ten years, whenever Chloe was around, the passenger seat never belonged to me. I was used to it. I didn’t have the energy to watch them act. I just opened the back door and got in. But the moment I stepped inside, the heavy scent of gardenia perfume hit my nose. It rushed straight down my throat. My face flushed instantly. I struggled to roll down the window, coughing violently. Looking down at my arms, small red hives were already starting to break out. Everyone who knew me knew I was severely allergic to gardenias. I had ended up in the ICU once and almost died. But I never expected Ethan to remember that. He only remembered me when he needed something. Looking through the rearview mirror, Ethan’s face was filled with impatience. “All I hear is you coughing, Vivian. Do you have to be so loud?” “We got up early just to take you to the clinic, and you’re making all this noise. Can’t you show some consideration for Chloe? She’s trying to sleep.” A sharp, throbbing pain pierced my chest. I couldn’t even count how many times Ethan had defended Chloe over me. But this time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg for his attention, and I didn’t sit in the corner wiping my tears, hoping he would love me again. I just leaned my head against the cold glass, letting the chilly wind blow over my face. Ten years of devotion couldn’t move Ethan’s heart. Only now did I realize that it was all just my own delusion. Since that was the case, there was no need to keep clinging to a man who wasn’t worth a single tear. I was actually curious— When I get rid of this baby everyone is waiting for, and when I disappear from your life completely… Will you actually regret it? Maybe he realized his words were too harsh, or maybe my silence finally made him uneasy. He looked at me in the mirror, his voice softening a bit as he tried to sound caring: “Just bear with it for a bit when we’re with Chloe, okay?” “Everything I do—including the fake proposal to Chloe—is for this family. It’s for the future of our unborn child.” “The board wants a merger through high-society dating. I don’t have a choice, so—” I looked up, meeting his eyes in the mirror, and cut him off: “I told you, I don’t care.” “I don’t need your explanation, and I don’t want to hear it.” When Ethan first confessed his love to me, he wanted the whole world to know. Back then, he had held a cheap silver ring, kneeling in the dirt with absolute devotion, swearing to me: “Vivian, I swear I will only love you in this lifetime. No matter what happens, my heart will never change!”

The cheers of our friends had drowned us out. I foolishly believed that that moment would last forever. But the vow was still fresh in my mind, while the man who made it had already rotted. Ethan’s patience ran out. He snapped: “Vivian, is this fun for you? Can you stop with the attitude? Nobody wants to look at your miserable face all day!” I ignored him, not letting his words touch me. Chloe pretended to wake up and patted Ethan’s arm to calm him down: “Don’t be mad, Ethan. Vivian might just be going through early menopause. Every woman goes through a phase. But you can’t get tired of her, okay?” Ethan’s anger melted away. The two of them started chatting and laughing, filling the car with a warm, cozy atmosphere. They looked like a happily married couple. I was just the unwanted third wheel. Too bad their happiness had nothing to do with me anymore. When we reached the hospital, Ethan jumped out of the car. He smoothly walked over to the passenger side, opened the door for Chloe, and shielded her head with his hand so she wouldn’t bump it. He did it so naturally, like he had done it a thousand times. Meanwhile, I… Because of the gardenia allergy, my limbs felt like lead. Chloe shot me a smug, challenging look before quickly playing the saint: “Vivian looks really sick. Ethan, go help her. I can walk by myself.” Ethan grunted reluctantly and walked over to help me. It was pathetic. Even now, he wanted me to play along in their little drama just to prove how “kind” they were? I felt sick to my stomach. I violently shoved his hand away from my waist. With the last bit of my strength, I screamed at him: “Get lost! Don’t touch me!” Ethan’s temper exploded completely. “Vivian, are you insane?” “I’m trying to help you! I’m showing you care, and you push me? You must have water in your brain. I was an idiot to try and help you!” “Never again. Are you happy now?” He grabbed Chloe and stormed off toward the clinic entrance. I stood there, my strength completely drained. Before I could even reach the clinic doors, my vision went black, and I collapsed onto the concrete. Is this the love I traded my piano career for? Is this what ten years of my life bought me? What a joke. Ethan, I regret it. If I could go back, I would never choose you. If I had stayed on my own path, I would be performing on the world’s greatest stages right now. But instead, with my ruined finger, I could never play the same way again. When I woke up, Dr. Reynolds was looking down at me, his eyes full of worry. “Vivian, your body is extremely weak from the allergic reaction. Combined with the surgical abortion, your recovery is going to be very difficult.” “Under these conditions, do you still want to go through with it?” I thought of the years I had wasted on Ethan. I had thought we were building a future. But in the end, he had thrown me away like garbage for someone else. My broken heart crumbled into dust. “Do it,” I whispered. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

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My brother thought my wife was gorgeous, sweet, and that my life was perfect in every way. As the spoiled golden child of our family, his jealousy drove him insane. One night, in a fit of psychotic rage, he grabbed me and dragged me off the edge of a high-rise rooftop. But instead of dying, we woke up to find we had traveled back in time—and swapped bodies. He was now me, and I was him. Tyler used my early Ivy League admission to go to a top college. He used my identity to get close to my gorgeous wife, and he used my past successful business plans to pitch to big investors. He even swaggered in front of my face, trying to gloat. He thought I would be eating my heart out. Little did he know, I was absolutely thrilled to swap lives with him. My past life only looked glamorous on the surface. In reality, it was a total train wreck. Now that he had willingly jumped into the fire for me, I only had one thing to say to him: “Thanks for taking over my miserable life, bro!” “Justin, you know what? I’ve hated you since we were kids. I envied everything you had—your smart brain, your smooth life, and your incredibly hot wife, Chloe. I always felt that if I were in your shoes, I’d live a much better life than you.” Hearing Tyler say this made me feel a wave of mixed emotions. My brother, who I hadn’t seen in ages, had suddenly asked to have a heart-to-heart drink with me. He set up a table on the rooftop of my apartment, bought some takeout wings, and started drinking beers with me. After just a few cans, Tyler started whining like a broken record again, bringing up all the old family drama from years ago. He honestly believed that if he became me, he would have a perfect life. But he had no idea that the pain and torment I went through were ten times worse than anything he could imagine. I looked at him, wanting to tell him that life isn’t a simple trade. You don’t magically get happy just by stealing someone else’s life. But what was the point of saying anything? Faced with his near-manic, jealous glare, I just kept drinking, one cup after another. All my bitterness was drowned in the alcohol. Seeing that I remained silent, Tyler’s eyes grew bloodshot. He leaned in and whispered, “To be honest, Justin… I’m at the end of my rope.” “What do you mean?” The alcohol was hitting me hard, making my head spin. “Everyone looks down on me! I just wanted to prove myself! I borrowed money to start a business, but I ended up in massive debt. To pay it off, I started gambling, and now… I owe a bunch of dangerous loan sharks…” At this, Tyler’s face twisted into something monstrous. He slammed his beer bottle onto the ground, shattering it. “It’s not fair! Why does everything go smoothly for you, while I’m always the loser? If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me!” “What are you talking about? You’re wasted…” Before I could finish, Tyler lunged forward and grabbed me. That was when I noticed several fresh needle tracks on his arm! Was this crazy bastard high on something? Taking advantage of my drunken stumble, Tyler wrapped his arms tight around me and leaped off the rooftop! “Hahaha! Die with me!” he screamed, laughing like a maniac. The wind roared in my ears. In those final seconds of free fall, my mind snapped into sharp focus. But it was too late. I felt a pang of regret, but also a strange, overwhelming sense of relief. Then, I hit the ground, and my consciousness plunged into absolute darkness. … I don’t know how much time passed before a familiar voice called out to me. “Hey, wake up! Mr. Davis is coming!” I opened my eyes and looked around. I was slumping over a wooden desk in a crowded classroom. I had traveled back to my high school days! But why was I sitting in the very back row, right next to the trash can? Just then, a guy in the front row stood up and turned around to look at me. It was my own high school face! I looked down at my desk. The name scribbled on the textbook was *Tyler Miller*. It took me a long moment to process what had happened. My brother Tyler and I had both reincarnated, and our souls had swapped bodies! He smirked at me from across the room, his eyes full of smug triumph. Clearly, Tyler had finally gotten the life he had always dreamed of. He must be throwing a party in his head right now. But he had no idea that his nightmare was only just beginning. “What are you staring at?” The familiar voice spoke up again from next to me. I turned my head. Sitting at the desk beside mine was Tyler’s future wife, Skyler Vance. She had grown up in a poor trailer park on the outskirts of town. Her family was extremely broke. Even though our prep school was miles away, she had to commute every day because she couldn’t afford the boarding fees or meal plans. She also had to work a grueling night shift at a local diner to help her family pay rent. I remembered hearing that she only got three to four hours of sleep a night, trying to survive on short naps during study hall. Even though Skyler studied like crazy, her grades were always terrible. After all, human energy is limited. When you’re running on zero sleep, how can you focus in class? She never had time to finish her homework at night, so she was constantly getting reprimanded by teachers and had been banished to the back row with the slackers. Back in high school, Skyler was actually quite pretty in a cute, natural way, but the old Tyler always mocked her for being “trailer trash.” He hated her permanent dark circles and said she was embarrassing to be seen with. He preferred those popular, heavily-makeup-wearing girls or the edgy chicks who sneaked into VIP clubs. Later on, for some reason, the two of them ended up together and got married. During that time, I was busy at college, so I didn’t know much about how Tyler and Skyler’s relationship actually played out. Right now, I rubbed my temples, keeping my emotions in check. I let out a soft laugh and said, “Nothing.” Tyler’s original life was actually much easier and happier than mine. Since he didn’t appreciate it, I was more than happy to take it! The college entrance exams were just a month away. With my Ivy League-level brain and knowledge, reviewing the high school material was going to be a breeze. But Tyler had slacked off and partied for three straight years. Even if you gave him another three years, he’d have to start from scratch—let alone now, with only a month left! The turning point of our lives was here again.

To catch up quickly, I made a strict study plan. The last month of senior year was mostly for review anyway. But since I was slightly out of touch, I had to start from the basics. I pulled out freshman and sophomore math and physics workbooks, picked the hardest problems, mastered them, and moved on. During recess, Tyler walked over to my desk with his hands in his pockets, whistling. He had a mocking smirk on his face. “Yo, little bro, studying hard?” Tyler laughed. “Why put in so much effort? Come on, let’s go ditch class and grab a burger!” I looked up at him, my voice completely flat. “The finals are around the corner. Aren’t you going to study?” I remembered the betrayal of my past life vividly. The moment he dragged me off that roof, all brotherly love and blood ties had died. I felt nothing but cold indifference toward him now. “I already got the Ivy League early admission with a full scholarship. Why would I need to study? Did you forget?” Tyler smirked, leaning over my desk. Ah, right. I remembered now. During our senior year, the school had offered me an early admission spot, but the old me had turned it down because I wanted to prove myself in the actual SATs. But on the day of the exam, I mysteriously got severe food poisoning and ended up with a terrible stomach bug, messing up my scores. In the end, I had to settle for a mediocre state college. It didn’t matter. This time around, I would do even better! Because throughout my entire life, I had always relied on my own brain and hard work. That was where my confidence came from. “Oh. Well, congratulations then,” I said, completely unbothered. Tyler’s face fell slightly when he didn’t see the jealousy or anger he expected. Finding it boring, he muttered a curse and walked away. I put my head down and went back to solving calculus problems, sharpening my mind. I had to admit, Tyler’s body was incredibly healthy. He had been athletic since he was a kid, strong and rarely getting sick. I, on the other hand, had been a sickly child who caught a cold whenever a cool breeze blew. Later in life, due to constant stress and heavy drinking at business dinners, I had developed liver cancer. To keep my family from worrying, I had kept it a secret. No one knew. In this life, I would take care of this body. Health is the ultimate wealth! While I was deep in study, Skyler nudged my elbow with her pen. “Are you sick or something? Why are you suddenly studying?” She paused, looking at me suspiciously. “And you didn’t even yell back at your brother. Usually, you two would be throwing punches by now… What’s up with you? You feel like a completely different person.” I smiled but didn’t explain. I actually felt a lot of sympathy for Skyler. She was a good girl. In our past life, she had worked tirelessly to support Tyler, never complaining about his laziness. Back then, I always thought she was way too good for him. Soon, our homeroom teacher gave us a surprise pop quiz, telling us to swap papers with our desk partners for grading. Since the test was easy, I finished it in ten minutes. Skyler was still struggling, nodding off every few seconds. When we swapped papers, I got a near-perfect score, while Skyler’s paper was a disaster of red ink. “How… did you cheat?” Skyler gasped, staring at my paper. “No, wait, I watched you the whole time. Have you been secretly studying behind my back?” “These questions aren’t that hard,” I said casually. Skyler looked at her own failing grade, her shoulders slumping. “Not hard? I couldn’t understand a single thing. I guess I really am just stupid.” Seeing her sad face, I felt bad. If things went normally, once we graduated, Skyler and I would never cross paths again. Unless… I asked, “What are your plans after graduation?” Skyler kept her head low. “My dad said if I don’t get into a decent college, I have to marry the local mechanic’s son and work at his garage.” No wonder she was trying so hard. No wonder she ended up marrying Tyler in the previous life just to escape her family. “How about I tutor you?” I offered. Skyler stared at me. “You?” “You don’t trust me?” “I do! Almost nobody in our class got the score you just did!” Skyler sighed. “But even with a tutor, I don’t have time. I barely get any sleep as it is.” “That’s easy. Move into the school dorms. I’ll pay for your housing and meal plan,” I said. “Where would you get that kind of money?” Skyler asked, her eyes wide. “Wait, why are you being so nice to me? Are you possessed by a ghost?” “Do you want to get into college or not?” I cut straight to the point. This was Skyler’s only shot at changing her destiny. There was no way she would say no. She agreed immediately, saying she would tell her parents she got a school grant for accommodation. As for the money, that was easy. In our past life, during senior year, a friend and I had walked past a local convenience store and bought lottery tickets for each other. I didn’t win, but he won fifty thousand dollars. The winning numbers happened to be my birthday plus my lucky number. The store owner had even hung a banner celebrating it for a month. I remembered those numbers vividly. Now, I just needed to buy that ticket.

I bought the ticket, and sure enough, I won. After taxes, about forty thousand dollars cleared in my bank account. I transferred a thousand dollars to Skyler to cover her school dorm and meals for the remaining month. With decent sleep, her energy levels skyrocketed. She had missed a lot of classes, so while I tutored her, I also solidified my own knowledge. Just like that, a month flew by. On the days of the finals, I performed perfectly. I chose the same university I went to in my past life—not only because I knew the professors and the curriculum, but also because I missed my old college friends. Skyler performed incredibly well, scoring high enough to get into a good state university. When choosing her college, she picked one very close to mine. In our parents’ eyes, having both sons get into college was a miracle. They immediately decided to throw a massive backyard graduation BBQ, inviting all our relatives. That day, I finally tasted the joy of being the neglected sibling. My parents had always ignored the younger son. During the party, they swarmed around Tyler—who now went by Justin—completely ignoring me. For the old Tyler, this neglect would have filled him with bitter jealousy. But now, as I watched Tyler being treated like a king in the center of the crowd, a cold smile played on my lips. Free things always come with a hidden price. The higher they put him on a pedestal now, and the more expectations my parents loaded onto him, the harder and more painful his fall would be. This was a lesson I had learned through my own blood and tears. Soon, Tyler and I moved to our respective colleges. Skyler’s campus was nearby, and she kept in touch, occasionally coming over to hang out. To pay for her expenses, Skyler worked part-time at a local cafe and was always busy. Tyler, on the other hand, was living the frat-boy dream. He skipped classes, stayed out all night, and his name was constantly on the dean’s warning list for failing grades. One day, I went to the cafe where Skyler worked to drop off some lunch for her, and I ran into Tyler, who was there to buy coffee. He had his arm wrapped around a gorgeous girl. She was wearing designer clothes and heavy makeup, clearly coming from a wealthy family. I recognized her instantly. It was my ex-wife from my past life, Chloe Sterling. “Well, look who it is! Hey, classmate,” Tyler smirked, spotting Skyler first. Then, his eyes landed on me, and his face lit up with absolute smugness. His expression clearly said: *Look, I took your hot, rich wife, and there’s nothing you can do about it.*

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When I went to return the engagement ring, the designer asked me why. Right in front of her, I tried to slide the ring onto my ring finger. But the band got stuck at my second knuckle, refusing to go any further. “See? It’s not my size.” The designer’s face turned pale. She immediately offered to resize it. I shook my head, my voice incredibly calm. “You can resize the ring, but you can’t change the shoe size. And you definitely can’t change the wedding dress.” My wedding with Ethan Carter was just around the corner. But except for the bride’s name on the invitations, nothing about it belonged to me. Every time I asked Ethan to go try on wedding dresses, he would stare at his laptop screen without even looking up. “I’m busy. I know your measurements anyway. I already sent them over to the designer. Just relax and get ready to be a beautiful bride.” But three days before the wedding, what I received was a ring that wouldn’t fit and a wedding dress I couldn’t even squeeze into. The wedding shoes, the gloves, and even the bridal lingerie… they were all my best friend Chloe’s size. The long-held anticipation in my heart completely vanished, leaving a hollow ache in my chest. Ethan frowned, still trying to negotiate with me. “It’s just a ceremony. You and Chloe are so close. Honestly, would it be so bad if Chloe stood in your place?” I didn’t argue, nor did I refuse. I just thought to myself: If she can stand in for me, then it should be perfectly fine if I change the groom, too.

When I got home, Ethan was on the phone with someone. “She’s back. Make sure you stay warm. That cashmere throw blanket I bought you should arrive today.” “Drape it over your legs when you sleep. Don’t catch a cold…” Listening to those tender, pampering whispers, my eyes burned. I had told him so many times that the AC vent at my office desk blew directly at me. It made my body ache all over. Sometimes, he would look at his computer and casually reply, “Bring a jacket then. Drink some hot water.” Other times, he would just stare at his phone and give a lazy, “Oh, okay.” Not once had he ever spoken to me in such a soft, gentle voice, telling me he bought me a blanket to stay warm. Hanging up the phone, he finally noticed me. He casually said, “Go make dinner. Chloe is coming over to eat in a bit.” Then, he began counting on his fingers. “She likes home-cooked meals. Grill some chicken breast, sear some salmon, make some pasta… oh, and add a salad. She’s always talking about losing weight, so a salad is perfect.” For a long time after he finished speaking, I didn’t move. I didn’t say a word. I just stood there, staring at him. Ethan slowly realized something was off, and a forced smile appeared on his face. “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet?” I averted my eyes and looked at the framed wedding photo hanging on the wall. “Aren’t you going to ask me how the ring and dress alterations went?” He gave an “Oh,” and asked half-heartedly, “Right. How did they go?” A wave of overwhelming exhaustion washed over me. My lips parted, but as my gaze fell on the photo of the two of them just below the wedding portrait, I suddenly didn’t know what to say. Before I could speak, he lowered his head to his phone again. Something on the screen made his lips curl into a smile. Even from a few feet away, I could see it clearly. The person texting him was Chloe Miller. In his Snapchat chat history, her name was pinned at the very top. Mine was somewhere below. Her chat was pinned with a golden star. Mine had nothing. At this moment, my best friend looked far more like his girlfriend than I did. Ethan looked up at me, a hint of annoyance in his eyes. “What are you still standing there for? She’s about to arrive.” I had been home for thirty minutes. He hadn’t asked a single real question about the wedding or the ring. Even when I tried to remind him, he only gave me a lazy, superficial response. Yet, he was incredibly attentive to everything concerning Chloe. I tried asking one more question. “Does she have any food allergies?” Ethan looked up immediately, his answer slipping out of his mouth without a second thought. “She doesn’t eat onions. You know that, right?” I fell silent. After a few seconds, I replied. “I know her tastes.” “But I didn’t know you remembered them so well.” Leaving those words behind, I ignored his changing expression and turned toward the kitchen. This would probably be our last dinner together.

Half an hour later, Chloe arrived with some coffee. Ethan practically sprinted to the entryway. He kicked my slippers aside as if they were in his way, then took out a fresh pair of slippers from the top shelf of the shoe cabinet and handed them to her. A smile played on his lips. “Bought these for you.” They were a pair of pink, cozy slippers with cute bunny ears. This exact pair had been sitting in my Amazon cart for six months. Every time I wanted to buy them, Ethan would stop me. “How old are you? Still wearing childish things like that? Aren’t you afraid people will laugh at you?” But when it came to Chloe, there was no talk of being “childish,” and no fear of being laughed at. He had simply used my credit card to buy them for her. Noticing my gaze, Chloe turned to me with a sweet smile and waved. “Summer, I brought you coffee.” Unsurprisingly, there were two iced Americanos and one hot oat milk latte. As she handed me the latte, a memory flashed in my mind. When Ethan and I first started dating, his favorite drink was a hot latte. He had a sweet tooth. He used to say that the taste of a hot latte was just like me, warm and sweet, and once you had a sip, you could never forget it. Back then, my face would turn red, and I would playfully punch his chest. He would laugh out loud, running away while teasingly begging for mercy. After that summer, my usual iced Americano order changed to a latte. But somewhere along the way, the latte in his hand had quietly reverted back to an iced Americano. “Thanks,” I muttered, taking the coffee and heading toward the kitchen. Chloe sat down right next to Ethan, leaning her shoulder against his. She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, come on, we’re best friends. No need to thank me…” She thought I was thanking her for the coffee. In reality, I was thanking her for showing me what a piece of trash my fiancé was. The sizzling of the oil in the pan couldn’t drown out the loud laughter and flirting coming from the living room. Ethan was asking her one question after another. “Is the design for the SE project finalized? You have to put your heart into it. The executives really care about this one.” “What do you want to eat tomorrow? Sandwiches or a salad?” “Have you bought the accessories for your bridesmaid dress yet? Do you want me to get them for you?” I listened quietly, and in my distraction, the knife slipped. “Ouch,” I hissed. From the living room, Chloe called out, “Summer, what happened?” I sucked on my bleeding finger and answered vaguely, “Nothing, just cut my finger.” “Oh,” Chloe replied. “Be careful then.” Ethan poked his head through the kitchen door. After confirming that I wasn’t dying, he shook his head with a mocking chuckle. “Your cooking skills are really going downhill. How do you manage to cut yourself just chopping veggies?” He didn’t offer to get a Band-Aid, nor did he offer to take over. He just leaned against the doorframe, making snide remarks. Back in college, when I bumped my knee on his bicycle, he had panicked. He practically carried me on his back all the way to the campus clinic, making the doctor reassure him a dozen times that I was fine before he finally let me go. Back then, resting my chin on his shoulder, I thought, This is the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. But I never could have guessed that years later, when I was bleeding right in front of him, he would look at me with complete indifference. He turned back to the living room to keep chatting with Chloe. My finger kept bleeding, staining the cutting board red. Realizing he couldn’t play blind anymore, Ethan sighed and stepped into the kitchen. “Go patch that up. I’ll finish this.” I looked up at him. “I thought you hated cooking.” He had sensitive sinuses and couldn’t stand the smell of grease. Ever since we moved in together, the cooking and dishwashing had always been my job. Just last week, we had a huge argument over whose turn it was to do the dishes. But now, he was putting on the apron and rolling up his sleeves with ease. “What choice do I have? Someone said she’s hungry…” A playful protest instantly came from the living room. “Ethan!” The man let out a low chuckle and gently pushed me out of the kitchen. I stood frozen in the hallway, finding his laughter incredibly grating. Chloe put down her phone, pulled me down onto the sofa, and grabbed the first-aid kit, crouching in front of me just like she used to. An alcohol swab wiped across my cut. Then, she began wrapping the gauze around my finger. Looking down at my college best friend, my feelings were incredibly complicated. When I had acute appendicitis back in school, writhing in pain on my bed, she was the one who stayed by my side in the ER all night. When we ran out of money at the end of the month, she was the one who bought cheap frozen pizzas so we could survive together. When Ethan and I first made our relationship official, she had hugged me, crying and saying, “Even if you have a man now, you can’t abandon me.” So, when she moved to New York to find a job, I submitted a special request to bring her into my design department. When she eagerly volunteered to help organize my wedding, I handed all the wedding chores to her so I could focus entirely on the SE project. I had anticipated a beautiful beginning, but I never saw this ending coming. After tying the knot on the bandage, Chloe looked up at me. “Summer, can you let me have Ethan?”

Even though I had already made up my mind, hearing her ask so bluntly still sent a sharp sting through my heart. Under the living room lights, Chloe’s eyes were glistening with tears. “You’re already the design lead. You’re talented, successful, and you have a wealthy family to back you up. But I have nothing.” So, that was her excuse for stealing my man. “What if I say no?” The pitiful look on Chloe’s face vanished instantly. She squeezed my injured finger tightly, leaning in close, whispering every word. “He gave those sizes to the designer himself.” “Don’t you want to think about why he knows my measurements so well? Don’t you want to know how far we’ve actually gone?” Without a word, I raised my hand and splashed the cold coffee right in her face. Chloe screamed. “Summer! I’m sorry… it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have messed up your ring and dress sizes…” The next second, Ethan rushed out of the kitchen. Without giving me a single glance, he grabbed a towel, wrapped it around Chloe’s head, and gently wiped her face. Then, he spun around and glared at me. “Are you insane?! The wrong sizes weren’t her fault! If you’re mad, take it out on me!” He shielded her behind his back, his eyes red with anger. It was as if I weren’t his fiancée, but his worst enemy. I bit my lip, my voice trembling. “Aren’t you going to ask what she just said to me?” Ethan looked back at Chloe, his eyes filled with pity. “She’s simple-minded and naive. I don’t need to ask to know it was your fault.” “Chloe is your best friend. Why do you have to make things so difficult for her?” He didn’t even care to ask for the truth. He just assumed everything was my fault. The room fell into a dead silence, broken only by Chloe’s quiet, dramatic sobbing. After a long pause, Ethan let out a breath, his tone softening slightly. “I’m sorry, I raised my voice. But you really went too far this time.” “Honestly, I felt a bit guilty about my next request, but seeing how you treated her, you owe Chloe an apology.” “Give her the credit and signing rights for the SE project.” I stood up, staring at him in utter disbelief. Last month, to secure the design for the SE project, I had worked eight nights straight until I passed out and was hospitalized. At the time, he had hugged me and said, “Don’t push yourself so hard. You have me.” He knew better than anyone that this project was my ticket to becoming the Design Director. And now, he wanted me to just hand it over. Chloe didn’t say she didn’t want it. She didn’t try to play peacemaker either. She just clutched Ethan’s sleeve, taking a small step closer to him. I stared at their hands, tightly gripping each other through the fabric. “And if I refuse?” I asked in a low voice. Ethan frowned. “Chloe worked tirelessly to help plan our wedding. You should give her this project as a thank-you.” “If you don’t agree, our wedding will be postponed indefinitely.” I clenched my fists. “Are you sure about that?” He didn’t answer. He just took Chloe’s hand and walked toward the door. Before closing it, he looked back at me and sighed. “We’re going out to eat. Think about it. If you come to your senses, the wedding in three days will go on as scheduled.” He didn’t say what would happen if I didn’t “come to my senses.” But his hand, tightly holding hers, said everything. “But I’ve already decided to change the groom…” I whispered to the empty room. The only response was the click of the door locking shut.

That night, Ethan didn’t come home. No texts, no calls. The next morning, I called my parents. “I’m changing the groom.” They didn’t ask a single question. Instead, my mom laughed. “Good. We knew there was something sketchy going on between Ethan and that Chloe girl. You should have dumped him sooner.” “If you hadn’t been so head-over-heels for him, we would have never accepted that fake nice-guy anyway.” She was right. My parents saw through him instantly, while it took me years to finally see the truth. No wonder Chloe had sent me a photo of their heads resting next to each other in bed this morning, adding a mocking text: Guess what we did last night? I took a deep breath and locked my phone. The moment I stepped out of the elevator at the office, a notification popped up on my phone. The HR Director had tagged me in the WhatsApp work group: “Summer Montgomery from the design department is suspected of plagiarizing the SE project and taking credit for someone else’s work. Following a board meeting, the company has decided to terminate Summer Montgomery immediately. She will be blacklisted from the industry.” The message was short, but I stared at it for a long time. Muffled laughter and whispers immediately erupted around me. “She called herself the design lead, but she’s just a thief. Her own best friend reported her, so it must be true.” “To think Ethan wanted to marry her. Who would marry a thief? Gross!” Hearing the insults and jeers, my feet felt like they were glued to the floor. Chloe suddenly appeared, pressing a cup of warm water into my hands, her eyes red. “Summer, it’s okay. I don’t blame you for the plagiarism. We can still be friends, just like before.” Her words sounded comforting, but the smirk on her face was almost splitting her cheeks. I looked straight into her eyes. “Why?” She leaned in close to my ear, whispering, “I warned you to get out of New York. Handing over your man, your project, and your wedding is exactly what a loser like you deserves.” “What makes you so sure you’ve won?” She chuckled. “Oh, just wait and see.” Right then, a colleague shouted, “Summer stole Chloe’s design by abusing her trust! Getting fired isn’t enough, she needs to apologize personally!” “Exactly! A thief like her should be banned from the industry! Let’s see who will hire her after this!” Before I could speak, Ethan walked out of the engineering department and stood in front of me, looking like he was trying to protect me. For a split second, my heart softened, and I wanted to tell him I didn’t do it. But he quickly turned around, grabbed my wrist, and whispered, “Summer, just apologize. If you admit to it and show some remorse, Chloe won’t take legal action.” “And our wedding can still happen.” The fleeting warmth in my chest vanished instantly. The morning sun hit his handsome face, making him look so familiar yet so incredibly foreign. When I first joined this company, a senior designer tried to steal my credit. Ethan had snatched his badge and marched straight into CEO Mr. Evans’ office, risking his own job to get me justice. Back then, he was just a junior programmer with no power or status. Now, he was an executive, yet he was forcing me to apologize for a crime I didn’t commit. I shook his hand off and took a step back. “I didn’t do it,” I said, my voice trembling. He paused, then leaned in closer, dropping his voice even lower. “I know. But since you refused to give her the credit, this was the only way.” It felt as if a bomb had gone off in my head. My throat felt tight, and I couldn’t breathe. Seeing me shake with anger, a flash of pity crossed Ethan’s eyes. He took a step forward, staring at me intently. “Even if you lose your job, you still have your parents and me. We can support you.” “But Chloe has nothing. If you admit to the plagiarism, she will get the Design Director position.” Those lips had kissed me countless times and whispered sweet promises, but now, every word they uttered was like a dagger to my heart. I pried his fingers off my wrist one by one. My voice was hoarse. “I will never admit to it.” “You have to!” Ethan’s patience finally wore thin. He pointed at Chloe. “Remember when you had acute appendicitis in college? If she hadn’t saved you, you would have died. You owe her this.” His words were cold and sharp. Chloe pretended to look hurt, but her eyes were dancing with joy. All around me, colleagues were shouting, demanding an apology. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Fine. I apologize. I plagiarized. I am a thief.” I gave a deep bow to the triumphant Chloe. Consider this my payment for her saving my life all those years ago. As I walked out of the building carrying my box of personal belongings, a sleek black Maybach was already waiting by the curb. I looked up at the 35th floor one last time, then slid into the backseat. Almost immediately, Ethan’s text popped up on my phone. “The day after tomorrow, I’ll be waiting for you at the wedding venue.” I typed a quick reply: “No need. My groom isn’t you.”

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When I saw my best friend’s luxury jewelry lying on the vanity in the bridal suite, I didn’t help her put it away. Instead, I stepped out and called the groom, Liam Bennett, and his mother, Eleanor. “Vanessa left her diamond necklace on the vanity. Eleanor, could you come and lock it up in person? I just want to make sure everything is accounted for so there’s no misunderstanding later.” In my past life, I was being the “helpful best friend.” I picked up the jewelry box and handed it to her. Who knew that thirty minutes later, Eleanor would throw a massive fit because the inventory didn’t match. Vanessa sobbed and put on a show. “That diamond necklace worth fifty thousand dollars was definitely in there… Clara was the only one who touched the box just now…” “Clara, I know you’ve always been jealous of my marriage, but you can’t play a prank like this!” Eleanor didn’t listen to a single word of my explanation. She slapped me across the face right there and called the police, accusing me of grand larceny. I didn’t just lose my dream job and my boyfriend of three years, Ethan Carter. I was completely blacklisted in our social circle. I couldn’t even step out of my apartment. Ultimately, while trying to escape the online harassment, I was hit by a car on a rainy night and died. It was only after my death that I saw the truth. Vanessa had sold that heirloom necklace long before the wedding to pay off her brother Zach’s gambling debts. She just wanted to use a gullible friend like me as her scapegoat. And by ruining my reputation, she could steal my spot for that high-paying corporate job. This time, I won’t touch a single piece of your jewelry. I want Eleanor to count every item in front of everyone. If a single piece is missing, I’d love to see who you’re going to blame this time, Vanessa. 1. Seeing Vanessa Sterling leave her jewelry box unattended on the vanity, I silently pulled out my phone and started recording. In my past life, I helped her lock the box in the drawer. Half an hour later, the diamond necklace inside went missing. Vanessa wept, saying, “Clara touched the box, but I really don’t want to doubt my best friend.” As a result, Eleanor slapped me in public. Guests took videos and posted them on Snapchat, and netizens branded me a thief. My job offer at the luxury jewelry firm, which I had waited three months for, was rescinded. My boyfriend, Ethan, told me he couldn’t bear the pressure of being with a thief. In the end, driven to a breakdown by cyberbullying, I died in a car crash on a rainy night on my way to the police station to clear my name. Only after my death did I find out Vanessa had already pawned the necklace to cover her brother Zach’s gambling debts. This time, with my phone camera rolling, I directly called the groom, Eleanor, the wedding planner, and the bridesmaids into the room. “Vanessa’s jewelry box is here.” “Nobody touch it.” “Let’s inventory it right now.” The bridal suite still smelled of hairspray and expensive roses. The velvet jewelry box sat right in the middle of the vanity, its lid slightly open, looking like a trap waiting to snap shut. I stood by the door, keeping my phone camera pointed at it. Chloe Miller, the wedding planner, was the first to arrive. Dressed in a sharp black suit with her earpiece clipped to her collar, she paused when she saw me holding up my phone. “Clara? What’s going on?” I didn’t beat around the bush. “The bride’s jewelry was left unattended. I don’t want any trouble, so I need you to witness this.” Chloe’s expression tightened instantly. If expensive jewelry went missing on the wedding day, the venue would be held liable. She immediately spoke into her walkie-talkie to call security and called the groom, Liam Bennett. Three minutes later, Liam and his mother, Eleanor, rushed in. Eleanor was wearing a deep burgundy mother-of-the-groom gown, her hair styled perfectly. The welcoming smile she had for the guests faded the moment she saw the box. “Who left this here?” I kept my phone raised, my voice calm. “I came in to touch up my makeup and saw it. I haven’t touched it. I’ve been recording since the moment I walked in.” Eleanor shot a cold glance at me. She knew I was Vanessa’s college friend, and she also knew I worked as a professional jewelry appraiser. In my past life, that exact credential was what doomed me. Because of my expertise, everyone assumed I was the perfect thief who knew exactly how to steal and sell it. Liam frowned and looked at Chloe. “Did anyone notify Vanessa?” Chloe nodded. “I sent a bridesmaid to get her.” Eleanor took a deep breath. “Let’s do the inventory first.” Chloe put on disposable white gloves and opened the registry list. “One gold chain.” “One pair of diamond earrings.” “Two diamond rings.” “One diamond brooch.” With each item read, a bridesmaid picked it up and placed it on a black velvet cloth spread on the table. When she reached the last line, Chloe paused. “And… one heirloom diamond necklace.” The space on the velvet cloth remained empty. Eleanor’s face darkened completely. Liam reached over and searched the hidden compartments of the box. Nothing. He shook out all the small velvet pouches. Still nothing. An uncomfortable, suffocating silence fell over the room. Right then, Vanessa pushed the door open. Her makeup was flawless, her veil cascading down her shoulders, her eyes perfectly red and watery. “What’s going on?” Nobody answered. Eleanor slammed the inventory list onto the vanity. “The heirloom necklace is gone.” Vanessa looked shocked, her fingers clutching her silk robe. “How… how is that possible?” She looked up at me. With just one look, I knew she was starting her performance. “Clara, you were the one who found the box?” I nodded. “Yes.” “Then did you…” She hesitated, looking as if she couldn’t bear to finish the sentence. “Did you open it to take a look?” In my past life, she did the exact same thing. She didn’t use the word “steal.” She didn’t say “take.” She just asked, “Did you look inside?” And she let everyone else’s malice fill in the blanks. I turned my phone screen toward the crowd. “The video started before I even crossed the threshold. You can see for yourselves. I’ve been standing by the door the entire time.” Vanessa bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. “I’m not doubting you, Clara. It’s just… the suite was empty, and you were the first to find it…” Eleanor snapped her gaze to me. “Clara, open your bag.” I let out a cold laugh. “Absolutely not.” Her face turned pale with anger. “The item went missing right in front of you, and you refuse to cooperate?” I saved the recording and uploaded it to my cloud drive. Then, I dialed 911. “Let the police handle it then.” Vanessa’s face went pale for a fraction of a second. She immediately lunged forward and grabbed my hand. “Don’t call the police!” Everyone stared at her. She cried even harder. “Today is my wedding! I don’t want to make a scene. Clara, if you just had a temporary lapse of judgment, just give it back. I promise we can pretend this never happened.” Classic Vanessa. She blocked every exit, then pretended to offer me a way out out of the goodness of her heart. Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Clara, today is a special day. Just cooperate. Don’t make this a bigger deal than it already is.” Ethan Carter arrived at that moment. He was my boyfriend, and he was supposed to be a guest today. He looked at the crowded room. His first instinct wasn’t to ask if I was okay. Instead, he lowered his voice and whispered, “Clara, don’t be stubborn.” My heart felt like it had been doused in ice water. He was exactly like this in my past life. He didn’t trust me. He was just terrified of trouble. I took a step back. “I’ll say it one last time: I didn’t touch that box.” “If anyone wants to search me, bring a warrant.” “If anyone wants to accuse me, bring proof.” A crowd of guests had already gathered at the door. Some were holding up their phones. Someone whispered, “Isn’t she a jewelry appraiser?” “Only someone in the industry would know how to pull this off.” “The bride treated her like a sister, and she does this? Unbelievable.” Vanessa leaned against Liam’s shoulder, her body trembling with tears. I looked at her. Suddenly, I wanted to laugh. In my past life, I cried until my voice went hoarse, and nobody cared. In this life, I wouldn’t shed a single tear. I would just wait for her to finish her little show. 2. Within ten minutes, half the venue knew the heirloom necklace was missing. Vanessa’s cousin, Beatrice, took a video and posted it to the wedding guest Snapchat group. The angle was perfectly framed. In the video, Vanessa was weeping in her wedding gown, looking fragile. Eleanor stood beside her with a cold, stern face. I stood there holding my phone, looking entirely calm and defiant. The caption was toxic: “Bride’s best friend suspected of stealing the groom’s family heirloom. Refuses to be searched and is threatening everyone by calling the cops.” It was quickly screenshotted and shared. Within seconds, the group chat exploded with comments. “On her wedding day? How trashy.” “Of all things to steal, a family heirloom?” “She works in the jewelry business, right? No wonder she knew what was valuable.” “The bride is still defending her. What a nightmare friend.” I stood in the hallway outside the bridal suite, scrolling through the comments. In my past life, these words were like knives. The more I explained, the more they mocked me. When I posted a statement, they screenshotted it to ridicule me further. Later, someone leaked to my prospective employer that they were hiring a thief. That high-paying position vanished overnight. In this life, the timeline was moving even faster. At 11:20 AM, I received a text from Mrs. Katherine Harper. She was the hiring director for the luxury jewelry company. Just yesterday, she had assured me that my background check was clear and my official offer would be sent on Monday. Now, her text was strictly professional and cold. “Clara, we have been made aware of the allegations regarding property theft circulating online. Since this role involves high-end appraisal and handling client assets, we must put your hiring process on hold until this matter is fully cleared up.” I stared at the screen, my fingers turning cold. Vanessa didn’t just want the money from the necklace. She wanted me blacklisted from the entire industry. Late last year, the company opened up a position for a Senior Appraisal Consultant. Both Vanessa and I submitted our resumes. She was rejected early on, while I made it to the final round. She had hugged me back then and said, “Clara, once you’re in, don’t forget to pull me up.” And I actually believed her. She didn’t want me to pull her up. She wanted to drag me down and use my corpse as her stepping stone. The main hall was starting to call for the ceremony to begin. The MC’s cheerful voice drifted through the doors. “The ceremony is about to begin. Will all guests please make their way to the main chapel.” But this corner of the bridal suite felt like an isolated execution ground. Eleanor wouldn’t let me leave. Two bridesmaids blocked the doorway. Ethan stood by my side, his expression growing more irritated by the second. “Clara, stop fighting them.” I looked up at him. “You think I took it?” He avoided my eyes. “That’s not what I mean.” “Then what do you mean?” “I just think right now isn’t the time to argue about who’s right or wrong. Vanessa only gets married once. Calling the police to her wedding is just humiliating her.” I smiled. “I didn’t take it. Why should I sacrifice my integrity to save her face?” Ethan frowned. “But acting like this only makes you look more guilty.” Of course. Refusing a search meant I was guilty. Calling the police meant I was threatening them. Refusing to apologize meant I was stubborn. In my past life, I was backed into a corner by these exact arguments. In my past life, I had dumped the contents of my bag onto the table, letting them rifle through my life. Lipstick, tissues, compact powder, car keys. No necklace. Then they said I must have hidden it on my body. I was shaking with rage, refusing to strip. They said my refusal was proof of guilt. When Eleanor’s slap finally landed on my face, Vanessa held me and cried. “Clara, why did you do this?” Back then, I actually wondered if she had genuinely misplaced it. Only after my death did I realize she was the one who handed them the knife, and she was the one who pretended to wipe away my blood. At noon, Chloe returned with security. She whispered to Liam that the hotel had already secured the security footage for the hallway outside the bridal suite, the elevators, and the parking garage. Liam nodded, looking relieved. When Vanessa heard this, her eyelashes fluttered. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch. But I saw it. She clutched Liam’s sleeve. “Liam, can we please wait until after the ceremony to look into this? I don’t want to make our guests watch a drama.” Eleanor’s face was grim. “The heirloom necklace is gone. How can we proceed with the ceremony?” Vanessa’s tears fell again. “We can use another necklace for now. Eleanor, please. I don’t want my wedding ruined over this.” Over this. A fifty-thousand-dollar heirloom. The most expensive item on the registry. And the crime she was trying to frame me for. I spoke up. “Since the ceremony is going forward, I’m coming to the main hall too.” Eleanor shot me a icy look. “You still want to go in there?” “Of course.” I slid my phone into my bag and zipped it up. “You all accused me of theft, right?” “Then let everyone who saw that video see how this ends.” 3. I was taken to a holding room next to the main hall. They said it was to “wait for the police,” but it was essentially house arrest. Two of Liam’s cousins stood guard at the door like prison guards. I sat on the sofa and texted Chloe. “Chloe, can you verify something for me? Did the heirloom necklace go into the hotel safe last night? Is there a signed receipt and a photo of the sealed box?” She replied almost instantly. “Yes. The groom’s family deposited it at 7:45 PM yesterday. It was photographed and sealed according to the inventory. This morning, the bride signed it out herself.” Looking at the words “the bride signed it out,” the weight in my chest finally lifted a little. In this life, the thread was unraveling. I texted back: “Can you make a backup copy of that log? I might need it in a minute.” Chloe was silent for a few minutes. “Clara, the hotel cannot release security footage or guest records to individuals. But if the police request it, or if both parties agree, we can show it.” I replied: “The police have been dispatched. Please have it ready when they arrive.” Next, I dialed another number. Audrey Stone. My college roommate, who was now a defense attorney. In my past life, everyone abandoned me after the incident. Only Audrey had tried to reach out. The call connected, and her voice was sharp and clear. “Clara?” “I’m at the Grand Plaza Hotel for Vanessa’s wedding. Her groom’s family heirloom is missing, and they are framing me for it.” Audrey didn’t hesitate for a second. “Don’t sign anything, don’t agree to a private settlement, and do not let them search your body. Save every text, video, and recording. Before the police arrive, state only facts, not opinions.” My eyes stung. Not everyone was going to force me to bow my head. I screenshotted the Snapchat video, the group chat texts, and the HR notification, and sent them all to her. Audrey looked them over and sent back five words: “We can sue them all.” The door to the holding room opened. Vanessa walked in. She had changed into her reception shawl, her makeup touched up, her eyes still artfully red. Ethan followed closely behind her. I put my phone away. Vanessa walked over and knelt in front of me. “Clara, we’ve been friends for eight years. I really don’t want to make this ugly for you.” I said nothing. She reached out to grab my hand, but I flinched away. Her expression hardened for a split second before returning to her usual victim act. “Eleanor is furious. She said if you write a statement admitting you ‘misplaced’ it and agree to pay for it after the wedding, she won’t press charges.” Ethan chimed in. “Clara, this is the best way out.” I looked at him. “You want me to admit to stealing a fifty-thousand-dollar necklace?” He frowned. “It’s not stealing. It’s just ‘misplacing’ it.” I laughed out loud. “A heavy, custom diamond necklace? I misplaced it? Where? Did it just evaporate into thin air?” Ethan looked uncomfortable. “Can you stop being so defensive? Everyone is trying to help you.” “Help me?” I stood up, staring him down. “Ethan, have you asked me even once if I actually did it?” He went quiet. At that moment, the pain completely vanished. In my past life, I could never understand why three years of love couldn’t withstand a few rumors. Now I understood. Some people’s love only exists when you are clean, convenient, and easy. The moment you get dragged into the mud, their first instinct isn’t to pull you out. It’s to make sure none of it splatters on them. Vanessa said softly, “Clara, don’t blame Ethan. He’s just worried about you. If this drags on, what about your job? I know how much you wanted that position.” Finally, she let a piece of her true motive slip. I looked at her. “You knew my job offer would be affected?” Vanessa’s eyes flickered. “The guest group chat is talking about it. I just guessed.” “What a perfect guess.” Her face paled slightly, and she immediately burst into tears. “Are you doubting me now? I’m the one getting married, and my heirloom is gone! I’m the victim here!” A knock came at the door. Eleanor’s voice was icy. “Vanessa, it’s time.” Vanessa wiped her tears and stood up. Before she left, she leaned close to my ear and whispered in a voice only I could hear: “Clara, don’t destroy your own future.” I looked up at her. “I’d say the same to you.” She stared at me, the warmth completely draining from her eyes. There was resentment there. And panic. I knew she was starting to lose her grip. Because in this life, I hadn’t followed a single line of her script. 4. The ceremony was delayed by twenty minutes. The guests in the main hall were already growing restless. The MC was trying to keep things light, announcing that the couple was doing some last-minute touch-ups, but every table was whispering. “Did her bridesmaid friend really steal the diamonds?” “I heard she refused to be searched.” “The police are on their way. The bride is so sweet, she’s actually trying to protect her.” When I walked into the main hall, the whispers briefly quieted. Every eye turned to me. They looked at me like a criminal about to be sentenced. The chandeliers in the hall were blindingly bright. At the front of the room sat Eleanor, with a row of Bennett family members lined up beside her. Vanessa stood near the stage, tears on her face, still looking like a picture-perfect bride. Liam stood beside her, his brow furrowed. Ethan followed me, trying to grab my wrist. I shoved his hand off. “Clara, stop making a scene,” he muttered. I didn’t look back. Eleanor took the microphone, her voice steady and echoing through the speakers. “Family and friends, we’ve had a small incident today. The Bennett family is not unreasonable, and we do not wish to ruin a young person’s life over a temporary lapse in judgment.” She looked at me. “Clara, if you stand here, explain what happened, admit you ‘misplaced’ the necklace, and sign an agreement to pay for the damages, we can put this behind us.” Immediately, some guests nodded in agreement. “Yeah, just apologize and get it over with.” “The bride isn’t even pressing charges. Why is she being so difficult?” “She’s ruining the wedding.” Vanessa took the microphone, her voice trembling. “Clara, I really don’t blame you. We’ve been friends for so long. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress looking for a job lately, and things haven’t been easy for you.” She paused, a tear slipping down her cheek at the perfect moment. “Just give the necklace back, or promise to replace it later. I’ll beg Eleanor not to take this further.” She finished her speech and reached her hand out to me. The entire room watched. It was a flawless trap. The forgiving bride. The magnanimous groom’s family. The stubborn, ungrateful thief. If I bowed my head now, my past life would repeat itself. If I didn’t, they would say I was unrepentant. I took the spare microphone from the MC. I walked up to the giant projector screen. “Since everyone has already watched the leaked video and discussed my supposed theft in the group chat, I’d like to take three minutes of your time to clarify.” The room fell quiet. Eleanor frowned. “Clara, do not push your luck.” I ignored her. “First, I was never in charge of Vanessa’s jewelry box.” “Second, I never touched it after I found it.” “Third, the diamond necklace was already gone before I ever set foot in the bridal suite.” Vanessa’s head snapped up. “Clara, how can you say that? What proof do you have?” I looked toward the side door. Chloe stood there, her face tense. I knew she was under immense pressure. Hotels dreaded wedding disasters. But she also knew that if the security footage could prove the truth, she couldn’t hide it. I spoke clearly into the microphone. “Chloe, the police are on their way. I request that we play the video from my phone, followed by the hotel’s hallway security footage.” Liam glanced at Chloe. “Play it.” Vanessa immediately grabbed his sleeve. “Liam, please don’t…” Liam said quietly, “If she’s innocent, we need to clear her name.” That was probably the only decent thing he had said all day. The projector screen lit up. First was my phone recording. The footage started from the moment I opened the door to the bridal suite. I stood at the entrance, nowhere near the vanity. In the shot, the jewelry box sat alone. My voice recorded: “The jewelry box was left unattended in the suite. I haven’t touched it. I’m calling the coordinator to verify.” Then it showed me calling Chloe. Then Chloe, Liam, and Eleanor entering the room. Throughout the entire video, I was at least three feet away from that vanity. The whispers in the crowd began to shift. But that wasn’t enough. It only proved I hadn’t touched it after I found it. It didn’t prove who took it. I clicked the remote for the next file. The hallway security footage appeared. Timestamp: 8:16 AM. Vanessa, wearing her silk bridal robe, walked out of the bridal suite holding the jewelry box. She walked to the end of the hallway, paused for a few seconds, then turned back and placed the box back on the vanity. At 9:03 AM, I entered the room. Between those two timestamps, absolutely no one else entered that suite. The entire chapel felt as if it had been choked of air. The color drained from Vanessa’s face. I turned to face her. “Now, can you explain? Why is it that the last person to touch that box before I found it was you?”

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After I suddenly suffered acute kidney failure, my girlfriend Lily Carter’s best friend, Jason Miller, donated one of his kidneys to me. I used to always suspect there was something going on between them. After the surgery, Lily told me not to overthink it. “If Jason and I were having an affair, we could’ve just waited for you to die, so why would he cut out a kidney for you?” I thought what she said made sense. For three years, I worked multiple jobs to make money, all to repay Jason for saving my life. One weekend night, I came home early from work because of a high fever, only to hear Lily and Jason talking. “My idea was pretty good, wasn’t it?” “One fake report and one fake surgery not only delayed your wedding, but Ethan Carter also worked himself to death making money for us to spend.” “There’s just one thing. If Ethan finds out, will he cause problems for you?” The next second, Lily’s indifferent voice came through. “Cause problems about what?” “If he dares to cause problems, I’ll dare to break up with him.” “Without me, who would ever be with him?” I leaned against the door and made a phone call. “You once said that if I was still single when I turned twenty-eight, you’d marry me. Does that promise still count?”

I did not want to listen anymore, so I opened the door and went inside. Jason was wearing my pajamas, and he tossed a set of car keys at me. “The car is parked downstairs, so take it to the auto shop later for a full service, then fill up the tank, because I need the car tomorrow.” “Buy some snacks on your way back, you should know what we like, and pick up the packages from the mailroom while you’re at it.” After giving me a whole string of instructions, Jason did not say a single thank you. My face was flushed from the fever, and my movements were slow. Jason frowned impatiently. “Are you deaf or something?” “Hurry up and go.” His car was a top-trim new BMW 4 Series, and I bought it. Because of my work needs, I only had an old car worth a little over thirty thousand that had no idea how many previous owners. I forced myself to stay alert and opened my mouth to explain. “I’m sick, and I really don’t have the strength…” Jason rudely interrupted me. “What kind of attitude is that?” “Is this how you treat the person who saved your life?” “If I’d known, I never should’ve donated a kidney to you back then!” “You’re nothing but an ungrateful bastard.” An ungrateful bastard? I looked at Jason. To repay his kindness, I had eaten cheap meals that cost only a few dollars. I wore old clothes from five or six years ago. Every purchase over fifty dollars broke my heart. And every cent I saved went to Jason. He was a scammer who had taken every advantage possible, yet he was calling me ungrateful? “All right, stop arguing.” Lily took out the medicine kit, found a box of ibuprofen and a fever patch, and placed them in my palm. A faint trace of warmth had just risen in my heart. The next second, Lily said to me, “Ethan, go apologize to Jason.” “He saved your life, and people can’t forget where they came from.” It felt like a huge ball of cotton had blocked my chest, sour and swollen. Things like this had happened countless times over these three years. Because Jason had donated a kidney to me, no matter what conditions he proposed, I was supposed to agree unconditionally. If I was slow to respond or refused, Lily would demand that I apologize. My body was on the verge of collapse, and at that moment, I just wanted to end this farce and rest for a while. I faced Jason. “I’m sorry.” Unexpectedly, Jason had no intention of letting me off. “Go cook me a meal, and I’ll forgive you.” “What?” “You don’t want to?” Lily frowned and was just about to speak. “Fine.” Dragging my body through the intense discomfort, I prepared dinner. In the living room, Lily was playing video games with Jason, and their laughter never stopped. An hour later, I brought out the dishes I had cooked. Unexpectedly, there were empty takeout boxes on the dining table. “You cooked too slowly.” “Jason hasn’t been in good health since the surgery, and he can’t go hungry.” Lily explained. “I saved you some onion rings, so eat with us.” I placed the dishes on the table. “No need.” The moment I turned around, Lily grabbed my wrist. “Are you still mad?” I moved her hand away and said calmly, “I’m allergic to onions.” Lily froze and wanted to explain something. Jason’s shout came from the living room, and Lily left me behind again and walked away. My nose suddenly stung, and a sense of helplessness spread through my whole body. It seemed my six years of sincerity had earned me nothing. I should have been sad, but at that moment, I didn’t even have the energy to feel sad. Dragging my burning body, I opened the bedroom door, and I froze. 2 The wedding photo of Lily and me that had originally been hanging on the wall had now become a couple’s portrait of Lily and Jason. Their hands were clasped together as they looked into each other’s eyes, smiling with pure happiness. My photos, clothes, daily necessities, and all my belongings had all been replaced with new ones. I turned and went to the living room, looking at the two people fooling around on the couch. “What happened to my room?” Jason did not even lift his head. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I’m staying in this room now.” Lily said, “Jason hasn’t been feeling well lately, so he took annual leave from the hospital.” “I simply had him move in with us for a while.” “I’m a doctor, so it’s convenient for me to take care of him.” I only wanted to rest, so I asked, “Then where do I sleep?” There were only two bedrooms. Lily and I were not legally married, so we each had our own room. Jason clicked his tongue impatiently. “Isn’t there still that little room?” “You can sleep there.” Jason pointed toward the storage room. I turned my head to look. The storage room door was wide open. All my things had been messily dragged out and casually thrown on the floor. Jason’s Chihuahua was holding my figurine in its mouth. But I was exhausted, and my body could no longer support another argument. I closed the door, curled up on the narrow folding bed, and fell asleep almost instantly. In the second half of the night, my body began switching between chills and fever. One second, it felt like I was being roasted over fire, and the next second, I was thrown into an ice cave. I opened my mouth to call for help, but my dry throat could barely make a sound. I struggled to feel around for my phone in the darkness, only to realize I had forgotten to charge it after coming home. Now it had long since shut off. My consciousness drifted in and out, and I suddenly heard sounds from the living room. Then the door was suddenly opened. Jason chased his dog inside. “We’re going out in a bit, so remember to walk Coco for me.” Jason’s dog was named Coco. I did not react. “Stop playing dead.” Jason walked in impatiently and kicked me as I lay on the floor. Seeing my rapid breathing and pale face, a sly look flashed in Jason’s eyes. “Jason, is Ethan having breakfast?” Lily, who had prepared breakfast but still had not seen me come out, ran over and asked. Jason shifted sideways and completely blocked me from view. “Yeah, I just asked him.” “He said he’s tired and wants to sleep a little longer.” “Oh, I see.” Lily did not suspect anything. “Then I’ll leave breakfast on the table.” “I bought your favorite milk and sandwich today, so remember to drink the warm milk after you wake up.” “You have stomach problems, so you’re not allowed to eat anything cold.” After Lily left, Jason glanced at me smugly and followed her out. The door was slammed shut, and the room fell into darkness. One glance, if Lily had looked just one more time, she would have seen my deathly pale face. But she did not. She had always been like this with me. She would ask a few questions, but she would never take care of me as meticulously as she took care of Jason. After less than a while, the two of them finished breakfast and left home, and all sound disappeared. Who knew how much longer passed before my consciousness drifted in and out again, and I seemed to hear Jason’s dog crazily scratching at the door… When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed with an IV drip. I remembered that after I heard the dog scratching the door, I used my last shred of strength to open the front door. The last thing I saw before fainting on the floor was my neighbor running toward me in a panic. After staying in the hospital for twenty-four hours of observation and my vitals stabilized, I only returned home at noon the next day. I plugged in my phone to charge. After being unreachable for a day and a half, many close friends had sent messages of concern. But Lily’s chat box was completely empty. The last conversation was me asking Lily when we would get married. She had not replied. I opened her Ins, and found that she had updated three posts related to Jason in one day. While I was sick, Lily had stayed out all night with Jason, watching the stars on a mountaintop. I closed my eyes and sent a message: “Lily, let’s break up.” 3 Twenty minutes later, Lily called me. “What?” “Trying a new trick this time?” My mind went blank for a moment, and I did not know what she meant. Lily’s tone was irritated. “You’re using a breakup to manipulate me and force me to marry you.” “Ethan Carter, you’re twenty-eight, not eighteen!” “Can you grow up a little?” I let out a self-mocking laugh. “If you don’t want to marry me, then we’ll break up, and I’ll marry someone else.” “Is there a problem?” Lily froze, then scoffed. “Marry someone else?” “Who would be with you except me?” “Stop saying things you don’t mean.” “Can you really bear to leave me?” “Wait obediently at home, and Jason and I will come back this afternoon.” After saying that, she hung up. Near dusk, Lily and Jason came back. They saw their things packed in big and small bags piled at the door. Lily was extremely surprised. Then she found that her fingerprint no longer worked, and she could not open the door. Lily called me to question me. “What is wrong with you?” My tone was flat. “I put both of your things at the door, and from now on, we have nothing to do with each other.” Jason, beside her, frowned and cursed me for being ungrateful. I hung up directly. Lily sneered. “Fine, you brought this on yourself.” After Lily and Jason left, I started cleaning up the apartment. And I had already contacted a realtor to list the place in a few days. Early the next morning, my phone began vibrating nonstop. It was a call from my dad. After the call connected, my dad’s furious roar came through. “Ethan Carter, is it true that you broke up with Lily?” “You even kicked Jason out?” “Do you have any conscience at all?” My dad scolded me without letting me get a word in. “In my life, I hate ungrateful people the most!” “From today on, you are not my son…” “No, Dad, listen to me explain.” The sound of something heavy falling came from the other end of the line, followed by my mom’s helpless sobs. “Your dad fainted, what do we do?” I hurriedly took a cab home. During that time, my mom told me that my dad had been sent to the hospital by kind neighbors. I had barely breathed a sigh of relief when my mom said my dad’s heart condition had relapsed and he needed eighty thousand dollars to save his life. I immediately opened my phone to transfer money to my mom. But my account showed insufficient balance. I tried again, and it still showed insufficient balance. After checking, I discovered that last night, while I was asleep, there had been two expenses, one for sixty thousand and one for seventy thousand. In order to repay Jason before, I had once told him the password to my account. I was afraid he was the one who had taken the money! I tried to contact Jason. The call would not go through. Only on the twentieth attempt did Jason answer the phone. “Jason, give me back my money!” “What’s the rush?” Jason spoke slowly and leisurely. “Have you realized your mistake?” At that moment, I only wanted to get the money to save my dad’s life, and I did not care about anything else. “I’m sorry, I was wrong.” “Hurry and give me the money, this is life-saving money.” Jason did not believe me and still spoke at an unhurried pace. “Tell me exactly what you did wrong, and I’ll give you the money.” “I shouldn’t have kicked you out of the house, and I’m truly sorry.” Jason was satisfied. “Not bad.” “Now transfer the money over quickly.” Jason laughed. “I’d like to give it to you too.” “Unfortunately, the money is gone.” I almost lost my mind and shouted on the street, “What did you spend the money on?” “This is the money to save my dad’s life!” “I asked my colleague about your dad’s condition, and it has always been very stable, so how could something happen so easily?” Lily took the phone. “I even spoke to him on the phone this morning, and he was perfectly fine.” “Coco got frightened yesterday, and we’re going to the pet hospital now, so I’m not talking to you anymore…” My vision went black, and I almost fainted. My dad was in critical condition and urgently needed money, yet you took my money to treat a dog? 4 Three days after I borrowed money to pay for my dad’s surgery, my dad was transferred from the ICU to a regular ward. Only then did Lily’s call finally come late. “I didn’t know your dad’s mental endurance was that bad, and Jason only complained about you a little before your dad fell ill.” “I’ve already transferred back the money I took from you.” “Jason hasn’t been feeling well lately, so I have to take care of him, and I’ll come visit your dad another day.” There was not a single apology from start to finish, and she pushed the blame onto me again. She still believed that I, and even my family, would be like we had been for the past three years, swallowing every grievance and tolerating everything Jason did. “By the way.” Lily changed the subject, her tone full of disgust. “Didn’t I tell you that I don’t want to get married this early, so what do you mean by posting on Ins that the wedding is this week?” “Ethan Carter, is there nothing in your head besides marriage and forcing me to marry you?” She warned me. “Hurry up and delete the Ins post, then make a statement saying you were just joking.” “Otherwise, if there’s no bride at your wedding next week, I won’t be the one embarrassed.” Jason’s voice came from the other end of the phone. “Lily, I feel a little uncomfortable…” The call was abruptly hung up. “What are you doing?” A gentle female voice sounded, and a girl in a white dress leaned close to me and looked over curiously. “Nothing.” “A stranger dialed the wrong number.” I put my phone back in my pocket and reached out to wrap an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “The wedding will be held in a while, so let’s go pick out diamond rings.” “Okay.” The girl held my arm, her smile sweet. After buying the rings, I took a photo and posted it on Ins. Two beautifully cut diamond rings, one large and one small, lay quietly in a black velvet box. The colorful light glittering on the surface of the diamonds proved they were worth a fortune. The comment section was full of blessings: “You’re finally getting married.” “My wedding gift is ready.” “Congratulations!” Jason forwarded the photo of the rings to Lily. “Lily, what does Ethan mean by this?” “He’s forcing you into marriage!” “Are you going to agree to him?” Lily’s gaze softened for a moment, but in the end, she scoffed. “How could I possibly agree to him?” “He ignored my opinion and made such a huge spectacle, all just to make me compromise, right?” “Does he really think he’s that important?” “I absolutely won’t go.” As the two of them were talking, I updated my wedding planning sketches and venue again. Lily could not help clicking into it. It was the best hotel in the city, and anyone could see the wedding would not be small. In the plans, a red carpet covered the floor, surrounded by clusters of flowers. A refined and romantic atmosphere came through at a glance. The grander and more solemn the wedding before her eyes looked, the tighter Lily’s brows furrowed. There was a hint of an unclear wavering in her tone. On one hand, she thought, “I can’t indulge Ethan’s bad habits, and I have to teach him a lesson.” Then she also thought, “He arranged everything so openly and extravagantly, and if I don’t go, he’ll cry, won’t he?” She flipped through the photos one by one until she reached a photo of me. In the live photo, I, who was usually so unsmiling I could almost be called rigid, had a smile at the corners of my mouth that I could not suppress at all. She murmured to herself. “So he’s this happy to marry me?” Lily was completely shaken. Jason panicked and asked, “Lily, are you going to find Ethan?” Lily nodded. “I’ll give in this once. We’ll have to get married sooner or later anyway, so there’s no need to make things too ugly.” But in the next instant, Jason let out a scream.

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I married the richest man in Los Angeles. He pursued me for four years and spoiled me for five. I was the woman every woman in Los Angeles envied. But the “good man” they talked about turned around and rolled around with his female assistant in my car, then even forged photos of me cheating so he could throw me out. Only later did I learn that I was the Foster family’s long-lost heiress. Using my identity as the Foster heiress, I personally acquired Ashford Group. On the day we signed the acquisition agreement, he begged me with red eyes to come home. I only said two words: too late. Me living well was the best revenge against him. Evelyn Clark POV “Hello. I want a divorce.” I pushed a stack of documents and materials toward the lawyer. The lawyer across from me froze for a full half minute, looking at my ID, then at the letter of authorization, repeatedly confirming the client’s identity. The door to the reception room hadn’t been shut properly, and the staff’s whispers drifted in through the crack. “Oh my God, is that Mrs. Ashford?” “Did I hear that right? She wants a divorce?” “Did she have a fight with Mr. Ashford? No way. Everyone in Los Angeles knows how much Mr. Ashford dotes on his wife. What could possibly be serious enough for a divorce?” “Exactly. Their wedding of the century five years ago—champagne roses practically covered half of Los Angeles. No one in elite circles has topped that scale even now. That was a real-life fairy-tale romance. I was moved for the longest time. If those two get divorced, I’ll never believe in love again.” “If Mr. Ashford finds out Mrs. Ashford came here, he’ll tear this whole building down.” I lowered my eyes, bitterness spreading through my chest. Everything they said was true. Adrian Ashford and I were college classmates. One of us was a scholarship student from a poor background who grew up in an orphanage, relying entirely on scholarships to get through college. Other than good grades, I had nothing. The other was the sole heir of Ashford Group, the student council president, a campus celebrity everyone looked up to. At the University of California, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know him. But Adrian Ashford just had to fall for me at first sight, launching a grand, public pursuit. Flowers piled up across the lawn beneath my dorm. The Ferris wheel kept its lights on for me all night. He set off fireworks for me, and every burst spelled out the same sentence: Evelyn Clark, be my girlfriend. Back then, it wasn’t that I wasn’t moved. I just knew all too well how worlds apart we were. Adrian Ashford was good in every way. So good he didn’t seem like someone who could ever belong to me. When I refused, he didn’t get angry. For four whole years, every night at ten, he stood outside the library waiting for me. On rainy days, he held an umbrella. On snowy days, he wrapped himself in an overcoat. More than a thousand nights, through wind and rain, he never missed a single one. How many four-year stretches does a person get in their youth? I didn’t want to keep failing his feelings, and I didn’t want to keep failing my own heart. In the final semester before graduation, I finally stood in front of him and said yes. After we got together, Grandpa Ashford, Malcolm Ashford, reacted exactly as expected. He turned against it. I came from an orphanage. I had no family, no background. I wasn’t worthy of marrying into a wealthy family like the Ashfords. So Adrian Ashford protested by going on a hunger strike. He didn’t eat for five days. He was the only child of three generations of the Ashford family. Malcolm Ashford couldn’t do anything to him, and in the end, he relented. Five years ago, Adrian Ashford married me in grand fashion, giving me a wedding of the century that shocked the entire United States and turning me into the Mrs. Ashford everyone envied. After we married, Adrian Ashford spoiled me even more, practically lifting me to the heavens. He had never once even raised his voice at me. If I casually mentioned liking an original painting by a famous artist, the next day, that painting would be hanging in my walk-in closet. Malcolm Ashford looked down on me, so Adrian Ashford protected me every second, never letting me be alone with Grandpa for even a moment. Adrian Ashford said that as long as he was alive, he would protect me to the very end. And he truly did. On that rainy night three years ago, Adrian Ashford drank too much at a business dinner. I was worried, so despite being four months pregnant, I drove myself to pick him up. On the way back, we were hit by a truck that ran a red light. Although Adrian Ashford instinctively shielded me, both of us were still rushed into the emergency room. I survived, but our child was gone. And I would never be able to have another one. Adrian Ashford stayed by my hospital bed for seven days and seven nights. He said to me, “It’s okay. I don’t need a child. I don’t need an heir. I only need you to be okay.” Malcolm Ashford was so furious he ended up hospitalized, but Adrian still didn’t back down. At that time, I thought this man was worth entrusting my entire life to. But this Adrian Ashford, who loved me so much, had an affair with his young assistant two months ago. Lily Sullivan posted every detail of the two of them on WeChat Moments, setting it to visible only to me. In the car, in the office, in the conference room, in hotel suites—everywhere had become a place for them to have sex. Those positions Adrian Ashford had never let me try, those sex toys he had never let me use, all appeared in Lily Sullivan’s WeChat Moments. At first, I only found it absurd. I thought they were maliciously photoshopped images. Until I saw the mole on the man in the photo. That mole was in a special place. Only I had ever seen it. It couldn’t be faked. The evidence was irrefutable. I had no choice but to believe it. On yet another night when Adrian Ashford and Lily Sullivan were making love, I stayed awake until dawn. After my tears had all dried up, I finally made my decision. Since he was the first to betray our relationship, then I didn’t want him anymore either. I had never cared about the position of Mrs. Ashford. The lawyer’s voice pulled me back to reality. “Ms. Clark, all the materials are complete. One month after the agreement is signed, you can obtain the final divorce decree, if the other party agrees.” I took the drafted divorce agreement, stood up, and thanked him. After leaving the law firm, I drove to Ashford Group. When I arrived at the CEO’s office, I didn’t knock. I pushed the door open and walked straight in. Adrian Ashford was sitting behind his desk, a thin layer of sweat on his cold, handsome face. Hearing the door open, anger flashed across his face. “Coming in without knocking—” When he saw it was Evelyn Clark, the anger turned into panic. “Evelyn, why are you here?” The man leaned forward slightly, but he didn’t stand. His posture was awkward in a way I couldn’t quite describe. I looked around the office and didn’t see Lily Sullivan anywhere. “It’s your company. Am I not allowed to come?” I asked back, my gaze fixed directly on his face. “Of course you are. It’s my company, and Evelyn can come whenever she wants.” Adrian Ashford quickly pulled both hands back under the desk, and his voice returned to its usual gentleness. “It’s just, why didn’t you let Uncle Jack drive you? Did you drive yourself? Didn’t we agree you wouldn’t drive on your own? I worry.” Ever since the car accident three years ago, Adrian Ashford had never let me touch a steering wheel again. Whenever I went out, a driver picked me up and dropped me off. I looked at the concern written all over the man’s face right now, and my heart ached even more. He clearly had me in his heart. He clearly remembered every detail of the hardships we had gone through together. Yet he could still have sex with another woman and sink so deeply into it. So his heart was this big after all. I alone could never fill it. “I came to have you sign something.” I didn’t linger on that topic and placed the divorce agreement in front of him. “I’ve got my eye on a villa in the mountains. I need your signature.” Adrian Ashford habitually started flipping through the documents. Sweat seeped into my palms. Suddenly, a suppressed groan rolled from Adrian Ashford’s throat. The man’s tall body went abruptly tense, as if he was enduring something incredibly difficult. I understood instantly. Lily Sullivan was under the desk. A strong wave of nausea surged in my stomach. I came today to get the agreement signed. Catching them in the act on the spot would feel satisfying, but it would also create complications. It took every ounce of strength I had to force the sourness rushing up my throat back down. “Just sign it. It’s only a house.” I pushed the documents a little closer to him. Adrian Ashford clearly had no attention to spare for reading anything carefully right now. The intense pleasure and the thrill of being almost discovered by me left him unable to handle it. He picked up the pen and hastily signed his name. I reached out and took the agreement back. The messy handwriting showed exactly how hard he was restraining himself right now. “You’re busy. I’ll go.” I didn’t want to spend one more second in this room. “Evelyn, wait.” Adrian Ashford called out to me. “Sit in the reception room for a bit. I’ll clean up and then drive you home.” Since the agreement had already been signed, at this moment, I deliberately made things difficult for him. “Then I’ll wait for you in your lounge.” In the past, whenever I came to the company to see Adrian Ashford, I would always wait in the lounge inside his office. “Don’t—” Adrian Ashford blurted out. “I mean, the lounge just had a deep clean. The disinfectant smell is too strong. It’s not good for your health. Wait in the reception room, okay? Be good.” I understood. Deep clean? More like the traces of the two of them having sex in the lounge hadn’t been cleaned up yet. Besides, if I stayed in the lounge, Lily Sullivan under the desk wouldn’t even have a chance to come out and get dressed. The situation would be impossible to resolve. I pulled up the corners of my mouth, revealing a smile with no warmth at all. “Okay.” I walked into the reception room next door. From just beyond the wall came the man’s panting and the woman’s sweet, coquettish pleas for mercy. I squeezed my eyes shut hard. I took out my phone, photographed the signed agreement, and sent it to the lawyer. “What’s the fastest this can be finalized?” The lawyer replied quickly. “If we expedite it, one week.” I didn’t hesitate. “Then expedite it.”

Evelyn Clark POV The door to the reception room was pushed open. Lily Sullivan walked in carrying two cups of coffee. She placed one in front of me and held the other herself. Her makeup was flawless, her collar slightly open, and the corners of her lips carried just the right amount of concern. “Ms. Clark, would you like something to eat? Mr. Ashford is still busy, so I’ll take care of you.” I lifted my eyes and studied her. Early twenties, delicate makeup, a tight suit skirt. Curves where she should have curves, perky where she should be perky. She was indeed a stunner. No wonder Adrian Ashford had fallen for her. “Shouldn’t Ms. Sullivan call me Mrs. Ashford?” Lily Sullivan covered her mouth and laughed softly. “Please forgive me, Ms. Clark. After all, I’m only twenty-three. I can’t possibly compare to the emotional intelligence of someone who’s nearly thirty.” I let out a cold laugh and was just about to speak. Footsteps sounded in the hallway, growing closer. Lily Sullivan clearly heard them too, because the contempt on her face vanished instantly. Without hesitation, she raised her hand and splashed the scalding coffee in her hand onto her own arm. Hot coffee ran down her forearm, and her skin quickly reddened. Lily Sullivan sucked in a sharp breath, and her eyes immediately filled with aggrieved tears. “Mrs. Ashford! Even if the coffee I made wasn’t to your taste, I could have made you another cup. Why did you have to throw it on me…” Her volume was just loud enough for the person outside the door to hear. I looked at Lily Sullivan’s reddened arm. Good move. Adrian Ashford strode in. His gaze first swept over Lily Sullivan’s arm, and his brows furrowed. “What happened?” Lily Sullivan bit her lip, tears swirling in her eyes, and was just about to speak. I spoke first. “Your assistant said I splashed her.” I stood up, picked up the cup of coffee on the table, and in front of Adrian Ashford, threw it straight at Lily Sullivan. The coffee splashed across Lily Sullivan’s shirt, the dark brown liquid spreading in a large stain. Lily Sullivan screamed and stumbled back two steps in a sorry state. “But I didn’t splash her just now.” I set down the empty cup and dusted off my hands. “Now I have. Are you going to demand justice for her?” I looked straight into Adrian Ashford’s eyes, refusing to back down in the slightest. Adrian Ashford’s expression was terrible. His gaze moved between the two women. Then he turned to Lily Sullivan. His brows twisted into a hard line, and his face sank to freezing point. “Low-class thing. Get out!” Lily Sullivan’s tears finally fell. This time, they were real. Clutching her arm, she stumbled out of the reception room. I watched the direction Lily Sullivan disappeared in, the corners of my lips moving slightly. So it ended with one scolding. If anyone else had dared slander Mrs. Ashford to her face, Adrian Ashford would have made that person disappear from Ashford Group that very day. But Lily Sullivan only got one sentence. How was that a reprimand? It was clearly him giving her an out. Adrian Ashford had already walked up to me. He reached out to wrap an arm around my shoulders and lowered his head to look at my expression. “She’s been under a lot of pressure lately. Her emotions are a little unstable. Don’t stoop to her level.” He gently patted my back to comfort me, his tone soft. “It’s not worth ruining your health over anger.” I only felt that the smell of women’s perfume on Adrian Ashford was unbearably sharp. I shifted slightly to the side and pushed his hand off my shoulder. “If you’re done, let’s go.” Adrian Ashford froze for a moment after being pushed away by me, but he didn’t think too much of it. “Okay. Let’s go home.” The two of us walked into the parking lot one after the other. Adrian Ashford opened the passenger door for me. The moment I sat down, I felt that the seat’s position was wrong. Someone had moved the passenger seat. I remembered back when we were dating, Adrian Ashford wouldn’t let anyone besides me sit in his passenger seat. Once, Adrian Ashford’s childhood friend sat there, and Adrian Ashford dragged him right out. I laughed at him for being childish. He said with perfect confidence that the passenger seat was my wife’s seat. If you’re not my wife, what right do you have to sit there? So in his heart, even the wife’s seat could hold two people. I reached out to adjust the seat. Before I could finish adjusting it, there was a knock on the car window. Lily Sullivan stood outside the car, staring straight at Adrian Ashford. She had deliberately left the burn on her arm exposed. It was so red it made people ache for her. Adrian Ashford lowered the window. “Mr. Ashford, my arm is burned. I really can’t hold a steering wheel, and I can’t get a rideshare… Could you drop me off at the hospital if it’s on your way?” I sat in the passenger seat without even lifting my eyelids. Since when did an assistant who couldn’t get a car have to ride in the boss’s car? Adrian Ashford frowned and was just about to speak. Lily Sullivan’s eyes reddened again, and her lips trembled lightly, like she was desperately holding back tears. Adrian Ashford’s refusal got stuck in his throat. “Get in.” He turned his head to look at me and lowered his voice to explain. “Don’t overthink it. After all, she got hurt at the company. I’ll drop her off at the hospital since it’s on the way, so people at the company won’t gossip about you.” I only found it ironic. Back then, when Adrian Ashford had just taken over the company, I stayed up with him and endured it all together. A poor student from an orphanage marrying him—I heard plenty of gossip behind my back. They said I was trying to marry up, that I wasn’t worthy of Mr. Ashford. Adrian Ashford’s way of handling it had been simple: whoever gossiped was gone. He wouldn’t let me suffer even the slightest grievance. But now, wonderful. He was using “so people at the company won’t gossip” to shut my mouth, openly and righteously letting Lily Sullivan into our car. For a moment, I was too angry to speak. Adrian Ashford immediately took my silence as agreement. “What are you waiting for? Get in.” But Lily Sullivan stood there without moving, twisting her fingers together. “I… I get a little carsick. If I sit in the back, I might throw up. Could I sit in the passenger seat?” I sat in the passenger seat without even changing my posture. When Lily Sullivan didn’t get a response, she continued on her own. “I’m being unreasonable. I shouldn’t bother Mr. Ashford and Mrs. Ashford, and I definitely shouldn’t make Mrs. Ashford sit in the back. I’m sorry. I’ll call a car myself.” After saying that, she let out a soft hiss, as if the injury on her arm hurt again. Her mouth said she was leaving, but her feet stayed nailed to the spot. She didn’t move a single step. Adrian Ashford glanced at the burn on her arm, his Adam’s apple shifting slightly. He was about to speak when my voice sounded first. “If you know you shouldn’t bother us, then what are you still standing here for?” Lily Sullivan went stiff. Adrian Ashford knew my next sentence would be to tell Lily Sullivan to leave, so he quickly spoke up. “Get in the car already.” Lily Sullivan didn’t dare say anything else and got into the back seat with an aggrieved look. The car had just pulled out of the parking lot when Lily Sullivan spoke again. “Mrs. Ashford, could you get my lip balm for me? I accidentally left it in Mr. Ashford’s car last time. It’s in the side storage compartment to your right.” Adrian Ashford’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Last time, we went to a business dinner. She drank a few glasses for me and got drunk, so I dropped her off at home since it was on the way. It was just that one time. Don’t overthink it.” I didn’t look at him. I opened the side storage compartment on the passenger side. Lip balm, women’s perfume, a comb, lipstick, hair ties, earrings. The storage compartment was stuffed full. It was practically Lily Sullivan’s personal makeup bag. Just that one time? I casually rummaged through the things in the compartment, then closed it. “I didn’t see any lip balm.” I turned to look at Adrian Ashford. “How long has it been since you cleaned out this compartment? There’s too much trash. Pull over. I’ll throw it away.” Adrian Ashford didn’t understand what I meant, but he still pulled the car over to the side of the road. I pushed open the car door, bent down, and threw everything in the storage compartment into the roadside trash can. In the back seat, Lily Sullivan’s face went pale, then red, then pale again. She seemed to want to say something. Her lips moved a few times, but in the end, she didn’t dare speak. I dusted off my hands, sat back in the passenger seat, and closed the door. “Let’s go. Isn’t Ms. Sullivan in a hurry to get to the hospital? The intersection up ahead is it.” Adrian Ashford glanced at Lily Sullivan’s expression in the rearview mirror, then at my perfectly calm profile. He seemed to realize something. But since I didn’t make a scene, he was more than happy to let it slide. The car drove in silence to the hospital entrance. Adrian Ashford stepped on the brake, stared straight ahead, and said coldly, “Get out.”

Evelyn Clark POV Lily Sullivan got out of the car, clearly unwilling. Adrian couldn’t bear it, but he couldn’t say anything. Without a word, he pressed the gas and drove away. I leaned back in the passenger seat, watching the streetlights flash past outside the window. I didn’t speak either. The car was as quiet as stagnant water. By the time we got back to the villa, the car had barely stopped before I pushed the door open and walked off. “Still mad?” Adrian caught up in a few quick strides and reached out to grab my wrist. I tried to shake him off, but I couldn’t. Adrian took the opportunity to hold my hand even tighter, his voice softening. “Come on. She’s just an assistant. She’s young and doesn’t know any better. She offended you today. I’ll punish her.” He gently squeezed my hand and lowered his head to look at my face. “Don’t ruin your health over something so small, okay?” Punish her? I sneered inwardly. How? Punish her in bed? Or punish her in exactly the way Lily Sullivan wanted most? When Adrian saw that I wasn’t speaking, he simply pulled me straight into his arms. “Evelyn looks so beautiful when she’s jealous.” His tone was light, tinged with amusement, as if he thought this whole thing was just a childish little tantrum. I stood in his arms. I didn’t hug him back, but I didn’t push him away either. “Adrian Ashford.” I called him by his full name. “If you ever betray me, I’ll make sure you never see me again.” Adrian’s arms tightened around me. “Of course I won’t. How could I ever betray Evelyn?” He lowered his head, resting his chin against the top of my head, his tone certain. “In this lifetime, I only love you.” “But a lifetime is so long.” I lowered my eyes and said, “People’s hearts change.” Adrian was silent for a moment, then the tip of his nose brushed over my hair. “People’s hearts change, but mine won’t.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to look straight into his eyes. There was no hesitation in them at all. “If I ever betray you, let me go bankrupt. Let me end up on the streets and die a miserable death.” I stared into his eyes. There was real conviction in them. Flawless confidence. My chest felt as if it had been struck by something blunt, aching and numb all at once. “You dare swear something that vicious? Aren’t you afraid it’ll actually come true?” Adrian let out a low laugh, bent down, and kissed my forehead. “I’m not afraid. No one knows better than I do how much I love you.” “I can’t live without you in this lifetime. How could I ever betray you?” He looked at me seriously, his gaze gentle. “Evelyn, without you, I wouldn’t be able to live at all.” I didn’t say anything else. I let him hold my hand. Then let’s wait until a week from now and see whether you really can’t live at all, just like you said. After we entered the house, Adrian went straight to the kitchen. He tied on an apron, opened the fridge, and moved through the motions smoothly. Ever since we got together, he had learned to cook and refused to let me do it. Even now. No one would imagine that the CEO of Ashford Group, worth over a hundred billion, would tie on an apron every night and cook dinner for his wife. I had once found it unbelievable too. I asked him, it wasn’t as if we couldn’t afford help at home, so why learn to cook? He said, I want you to eat the food I make for the rest of your life, until you can never leave me. After we got married, whenever we were home, Adrian was the one who cooked. That habit had never once been broken. When the dishes were brought out, they were all the flavors she liked. Scrambled eggs with tomatoes sweetened with caramelized onions, BBQ-style roasted chicken legs without scallions, and creamy beech mushroom soup on the side. I sat at the dining table and mechanically put food into my mouth, unable to taste anything at all. Adrian’s phone was sitting by the table, message notifications going off nonstop. He glanced at the screen, didn’t reply right away, and turned the phone face down on the table again. Two minutes later, the phone rang again. His brows furrowed. He picked up his fork, then set it back down. Then he flipped the phone over and placed it face down on the table. I saw everything, but said nothing. After a while, the messages were still coming. Adrian finally couldn’t sit still. He pushed back his chair and stood up. “There’s an urgent issue at the company. The people under me can’t handle it. I’ll be right back.” He moved quickly, picking up his coat and car keys as he walked toward the door. “Evelyn, take your time eating. Don’t wait for me.” The door closed. I set down my utensils and looked at the empty chair across from me. I was silent for a moment, then, as if torturing myself, got up and followed him out. Outside the villa. Adrian had stopped by a tree not far away. I hid behind a porch column and made no sound. A car stopped by the road outside the villa. Lily Sullivan got out and ran toward Adrian, throwing herself into his arms. “Adrian, it hurts so much.” Adrian didn’t push her away. He patted her back, his tone darkening slightly. “You deserve it.” “How many times have I warned you? You can make all the trouble you want in private, but when you’re in front of her, keep yourself under control.” “She is my wife. What the hell are you? What was that stunt today supposed to mean?” His words sounded harsh, but there wasn’t much real anger in his tone. Lily tilted her head up, her eyes red, her lower lip caught lightly between her teeth. “I’m sorry, Adrian. I just love you too much. I couldn’t help it.” She lifted her injured arm and brought it in front of Adrian. “And it really hurts. I went to the hospital alone, got the injection alone. I was so pitiful.” Her voice was soft and sweet, half coquettish, half pleading. “Blow on it for me.” As she spoke, she kept pressing and rubbing her chest against Adrian. Adrian lowered his eyes and looked at her injured arm, his gaze darkening. “If it hurts, then behave.” He scolded her, but still bent down, his thin lips gently covering the red mark. Standing in the darkness, I slowly clenched my fingers. The corners of Lily’s mouth lifted. Her hands began to wander restlessly, sliding down along his waist. “Don’t come to the office for the next few days. Stay home and recover.” Adrian lifted his head, held her arm in his palm, and carefully checked whether her wound had been treated properly. “It’s just a small injury.” His reprimand was gentle. “It won’t kill you.” Lily tilted her head, her lashes fluttering lightly, amusement flowing through her eyes. “But if I can’t see you, I’ll miss you. What should I do?” “Where will you miss me?” Lily took his hand and slowly guided it toward her body, her voice dropping lower. “Find it yourself. Everywhere misses you.” Adrian didn’t pull his hand away. His hand followed the direction she guided it. Lily let out a soft, coquettish moan. Her whole body melted into his arms, pressing against Adrian as she looked up at him with watery eyes. My nails dug into my palm. Only when damp heat seeped into my palm and pain spread all the way up from my hand did I forcibly suppress the urge to break down sobbing. I had known for a long time. But knowing was one thing. Seeing it with my own eyes was another. That man who was calm and self-possessed in front of outsiders, considerate and gentle in front of me. Facing Lily Sullivan now, he was wearing a completely unfamiliar face. That hungry, desperate look in his eyes—I had last seen it during the year we were newly married. Lily hooked one arm around his neck and whispered something by his ear. Adrian let out a muffled groan and cursed under his breath. “You little vixen.” He scooped Lily up in his arms and strode toward the car.

Evelyn Clark POV The car door slammed shut in urgent impatience. Soon, the car began to shake rhythmically. I stood in the darkness for a long time. I didn’t know how I walked back inside. It wasn’t until I stood in front of the dining table that I finally came back to myself. The entire table of food had gone cold. It looked greasy and disgusting. I sat down in the chair and stared blankly at that table of food. Tears fell without warning, more and more of them. But as I cried, I started laughing. The way Adrian looked now was honestly even more excited than when he first won me over. Then what was there left for me to miss? I picked up the dishes on the table and dumped them all into the trash without the slightest hesitation. The dining table was wiped clean. I took a deep breath, picked up my phone, and opened the car’s companion app. The dashcam’s live feed appeared on the screen. The car was still parked in the same place. In the footage, two figures tangled in the back seat, clothes in disarray. Lily Sullivan’s seductive voice came through. “Adrian, slower. It’s so deep…” The man didn’t slow down. Instead, he thrust harder. “What did you call me?” “Daddy… Daddy!” “Say it filthier.” His voice was low. “You’re so filthy.” Lily played along, crying out, her panting coming clearly through my phone. A moment later, Lily’s voice drifted over, coy and teasing. “You’ve been gone so long. Aren’t you afraid your wife will find out?” “Shut up!” The man’s voice suddenly sank, obviously impatient. “Just take it. Don’t mention her!” I stared at the screen as a violent wave of nausea surged up from my stomach. I rushed into the bathroom, bent over, and threw up. My stomach churned until there was nothing left, tears and snot smearing all over my face. I turned on the faucet and buried my face in the cold water. After a long while, I straightened, stared at my pale, wretched face in the mirror, and took a deep breath. I picked up my phone again and saved that video. Then I walked into the walk-in closet, dragged a suitcase down from the rack, and started packing. A few pieces of everyday clothing, toiletries, important documents. The suitcase was packed quickly. As for the remaining clothes, designer bags, and jewelry, I found several large cardboard boxes and packed them away one by one. Tomorrow, I would donate all of it. Anything Adrian had given me—I didn’t want to keep a single piece. As I was packing, the sound of the front door opening came from downstairs. I glanced at my phone. Four hours had passed. Adrian was finally back. He came upstairs and entered the bedroom. When he saw the packed boxes on the floor, his steps paused. “Why are you packing?” There was panic in his voice that he couldn’t hide. “The season’s changing.” I didn’t look up and kept folding clothes. “I’m putting away the things I don’t wear often.” Adrian stood there, his gaze lingering on my face, scrutinizing me carefully. He didn’t see anything unusual. He walked over, hugged me from behind, took the clothes from my hands, and put them back on the hanger. “Stop packing. Throw it all out. We’ll buy new ones.” I didn’t follow his strength. I gently pushed him. “Go take a shower.” I turned my head, avoiding his approaching face. “You smell like sweat.” Adrian’s body stiffened. He had indeed sweated all over in the car. Now it clung to his shirt, giving off a sour, fishy smell. He let go and walked toward the bathroom without saying another word. I sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom. Adrian’s phone lit up. I glanced at the screen. It was a photo from Lily Sullivan. Along with a line of text: [Good night, baby. Make sure I’m in your dreams.] I withdrew my gaze and picked up my own phone. Sure enough, Lily Sullivan had updated her WeChat Moments. Still visible only to me. The latest post was a close-up photo of an astronomically expensive necklace. Limited edition, Tiffany’s main piece for the latest season, entirely rose gold, with a pear-shaped pink diamond as the main stone. That necklace—I had seen it in a magazine half a year ago, before it had officially launched. I’d said I liked it. Adrian had said at the time, once it’s released, I’ll be the first to buy it for you. The caption on the photo was: [Even though the old witch poured coffee on me, I got compensation from someone, so I’ll forgive him!] I took a screenshot of the post and saved it. Lily Sullivan probably thought making those WeChat Moments visible only to me was a form of torture, a silent display of bragging and provocation. She didn’t know that those posts had long since become solid evidence in my hands. When a mistress doesn’t know how to keep a low profile, it’s the stupidest thing in the world. The sound of the shower stopped. I put down my phone and lay back on the bed. Adrian came out of the bathroom and lay down beside me, his arm naturally reaching around my waist. Every hair on my body stood on end. Without showing it, I shifted slightly toward the edge of the bed, avoiding his hand. Adrian didn’t move closer. He had already eaten his fill earlier. This intimacy now was only out of habit. There was no other intention behind it. But that tiny movement of mine still made him sense that something was off. “Evelyn, what’s wrong?” “Nothing.” I closed my eyes, my tone calm. “Tomorrow is the day we go to your grandfather’s estate. Did you forget?” Adrian answered with a soft sound, and his panic faded a little. So I was unhappy because we had to go back to the estate. Then he could relax. His parents had passed away early, and only Malcolm Ashford was left at the estate. Malcolm Ashford was arrogant and looked down on me. Openly and secretly, he had given me who knew how many cold faces. Adrian had slammed the table in front of Malcolm Ashford several times before he finally restrained himself somewhat. But that restraint was only on the surface. His contempt for me had never truly disappeared. In order not to put Adrian in a difficult position between us, every time we went back to the estate, I forced myself to keep my spirits up. Afterward, I would come home depressed for days. Adrian leaned closer, his lips near my ear. “Don’t be scared. Tomorrow, I’ll stay by your side the whole time. I won’t let Grandpa make things hard for you.” I didn’t answer. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. Adrian also closed his eyes in relief. Early the next morning, Adrian went to the company. I had a moving company haul away all the boxes of packed clothes. Not a single piece was left behind. Everything was donated to charity. After that, I called a secondhand luxury reseller to come over. The packed boxes in the walk-in closet were carried downstairs one after another. Those bags, that jewelry, the things I had once liked or the things Adrian had forced on me, were all turned into a long string of numbers on my phone screen. Before the reseller left, they sighed with emotion that Mrs. Ashford was truly generous. I looked at the number on my phone screen, a number I couldn’t spend in this lifetime, and the tightness in my chest loosened slightly. Then I booked a flight to Italy three days later. The booking platform’s callback came quickly. “Hello, please confirm the passenger information.” “Confirmed. I booked the ticket myself.” “What ticket?” At some point, Adrian had come back. He asked anxiously. “Where are you going?”

Evelyn Clark POV “Concert tickets.” I put my phone into my pocket as if nothing had happened. “They’re for next month. I booked two. Why are you panicking?” Adrian froze, then immediately let out a breath of relief and strode forward, pulling me into his arms. “You scared me to death.” His chin rested on the top of my head, and his arms tightened. “I thought you were leaving me.” “Why would I leave you?” I raised my head and looked at him calmly. “Did you do something to betray me?” Adrian’s arms tightened slightly. “Of course not.” He lowered his head and pressed his forehead against mine, his smile natural. “I’m just too nervous about you. I love you too much. I can’t help it.” After saying that, he had already let go of me and picked up his coat. “Let’s go. Grandpa is waiting at the estate.” In the estate dining room, Malcolm Ashford was sitting at the head of the table. The moment he saw me enter, his face darkened. During the meal. Malcolm Ashford stayed quiet for only a short while before he couldn’t help speaking. “Adrian, you’re not young anymore. With an estate as large as the Ashford family’s, there can’t be no heir.” Adrian didn’t even put down his fork. He didn’t lift his head. “I don’t need an heir. I only need Evelyn.” Malcolm Ashford let out a cold snort and said nothing else, lifting his water glass again. If it were before, I would have already stood up to pour water and ease the atmosphere. But this time, I sat firmly in my seat without saying a word. Malcolm Ashford had always looked down on me, thinking I was a poor girl clinging to the Ashford family. After the car accident three years ago, the doctor said I would very likely never be able to get pregnant again, and Malcolm Ashford’s attitude toward me dropped straight to freezing. In his eyes, I was now a sinner who had occupied a place that was never mine and cut off the Ashford family’s descendants. Adrian poured me a glass of red wine. I glanced at it, eating without tasting anything. From the corner of my eye, I saw the screen of Adrian’s phone, which was sitting by the table, light up. Lily Sullivan had sent a photo, with a line of text beneath it: [Are you coming or not? Offer expires soon.] I withdrew my gaze, looked back at my own plate, and silently started counting down in my heart. Half a minute later. Adrian stood up. “There’s a sudden urgent issue at the company. I’ll go handle it first. You and Grandpa keep eating.” He said to me, “It won’t take long. Wait for me.” Before I could answer, he was already gone. The dining room door closed. Malcolm Ashford slowly took a sip of soup, set the bowl back on the table, and let his gaze fall on my face. “Adrian is just too softhearted.” I didn’t respond. “Back then, he wouldn’t listen no matter what I said. He insisted on marrying you. Fine. I accepted it.” “But in all these years since you entered this family, what has the Ashford family gained? You couldn’t even keep a child. Do you know why that child died? Because your fate is too hard. You cursed it.” My fingers tightened. “The Ashford family has had only one heir for three generations. Adrian is our only grandson.” Every word from Malcolm Ashford was like a nail. “If your womb can’t produce anything, fine. But you even took that child’s life with you! Tell me yourself—should I swallow that anger?” “All these years, for Adrian’s sake, I’ve turned a blind eye. But you should have some self-awareness too.” “Look at yourself in the mirror. With your background, with what little ability you have, are you worthy of sitting in that chair? Leave while you still can. At least you’ll preserve a little dignity for yourself and give Adrian a way out.” In the past, I had always gritted my teeth and endured words like these. I didn’t want to make things hard for Adrian Ashford. I didn’t want him caught between Malcolm Ashford and me, torn and miserable. But today, I didn’t endure it anymore. “Grandpa, that child died because Adrian Ashford got drunk that night, and I went to pick him up and take him home. That was why the car accident happened.” I lifted my head and looked calmly at Malcolm Ashford. “That child wasn’t cursed to death by me. It was killed by the driver who hit us. I don’t owe the Ashford family anything. Not a single thing.” “If I leave, it’ll be because I choose to leave, not because you drove me out. When I, Evelyn Clark, leave and how I leave is not for you to decide.” Malcolm Ashford’s face turned livid. He slammed his palm down on the table. “How dare you!” “Disrespecting your elders! You’re out of control!” He pointed at me, then turned and shouted toward the door. “Someone, drag her to the basement. Make her kneel there and reflect on herself!” Two bodyguards walked in and, without another word, seized my arms and dragged me into the basement. The basement floor tiles had not seen sunlight all year round. They were damp and bitterly cold. I was forced to kneel. The chill seeped straight from my knees into my bones. After half an hour, the cold had climbed to my waist. After one hour, it had reached my chest. I stared at the thin strip of light seeping through the crack under the door and counted the time. He still hadn’t come back. Where was he now? On top of Lily Sullivan, or on his way back? Two hours passed. My legs had already gone numb, and my heart was ice cold. Three hours later, the door was kicked open. Adrian Ashford strode into the basement, his face dark as death. The moment he saw me kneeling on the floor, his eyes turned vicious. He raised his foot and kicked over the bodyguard guarding the door. “Get out!” After saying that coldly to the bodyguard, he bent down and lifted me into his arms. My legs had lost all feeling, and a sharp, tingling ache shot through my knees. “I’m sorry, Evelyn. This is my fault.” Adrian Ashford carried me out in long strides, genuine guilt in his voice. When we got back to the car, Adrian Ashford settled me into the passenger seat and immediately turned the heat to the highest setting. He took out a thermos, poured hot water, and handed it to me. “Drink something warm first.” I took it and wrapped both hands around it, but I didn’t drink. Adrian Ashford was already crouching by my feet. His large palms cupped my knees, rubbing them back and forth, helping me drive away that bone-deep chill. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you there alone. The company matter was too urgent, and in my panic, I forgot. It’s my fault, Evelyn. I’m sorry.” As he spoke, he pressed the seat-heating button to the highest level. “They’re still cold.” “Do your knees hurt? Should we go to the hospital and have them checked?” He frowned, lowered his head, and breathed warm air over my knees. “It’s my fault. All of it is my fault. Yell at me. I’ll take it.” I leaned back against the seat and watched him lower his head, seriously warming my knees. This man was good in every way. So good that I once thought as long as he was by my side, I would be afraid of nothing. Because the heat was turned up too high, a layer of fog slowly covered the car window. I unconsciously turned my head, and my gaze landed on the glass. The fog blurred the window, but instead made the marks on it clearer. Behind the mist, two overlapping handprints were clearly stamped on the glass. One large and one small, fingers interlocked, printed right in the center of the car window. So during those three hours I had been kneeling on the icy floor tiles in the Ashford estate’s basement, he had been right here. He had been in the car outside the estate, having sex with Lily Sullivan. I looked at those two sets of handprints, and a miserable laugh slipped out of me as tears fell.

Evelyn Clark’s POV When Adrian Ashford saw me crying, he panicked at once. “Evelyn, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you alone at the old residence!” “I promise you, from now on, no matter what happens, I will never leave you halfway again.” His promise? He had made that same promise countless times before, and again last night. But today, the moment he saw Lily Sullivan’s message, his soul was gone. I raised my hand and wiped away my tears. “Drive.” Not long after the car left the old residence, Adrian Ashford’s phone lit up again. Lily Sullivan again. Adrian Ashford frowned and hung up at once. I leaned back in the passenger seat, closed my eyes, and said nothing. A few minutes later, the phone lit up again. This time, Adrian Ashford didn’t hang up or answer. He let it ring for a long time until it ended on its own. When it rang for the third time, he was already unable to sit still again. I tugged the corner of my mouth. “Answer it. Maybe there’s another emergency at the company.” “I just promised you. No matter how urgent something is, nothing is more important than you.” Adrian Ashford’s tone was firm. His eyes stayed on the road ahead, and he didn’t touch the phone. I sneered inwardly and said nothing. But I knew he would leave in the end. When the phone rang for the fourth time, Adrian Ashford finally answered. Lily Sullivan’s hoarse, crying voice came from the other end. Adrian Ashford’s expression changed abruptly. “Don’t be scared. I’m coming right now!” He hung up and turned toward me, his face full of conflict. “I’m sorry, Evelyn. Something really did happen at the company. I—” “Pull over.” I didn’t want to hear him finish, so I cut him off. “Evelyn…” Adrian Ashford sighed and pulled the car over to the side of the road. “I have no choice when it comes to the company. Once I get all the shares from Grandpa, nothing will ever be able to make me leave you again.” I had already unbuckled my seat belt. “I’ll have the driver come pick you up. Wait here—” Before he could finish, I pushed open the door and got out. The night wind was strong. There was nothing blocking it by the roadside, and the cold air poured straight into my collar. My knees ached sharply. I didn’t wait for any driver. I opened my phone and started calling a ride. This road was some distance from the city, and there usually weren’t many cars passing by. I waited for a long time, but no driver accepted the order. The driver Adrian Ashford said would come never appeared either. I pulled my coat tighter around myself and held my phone in my palm for warmth. Lily Sullivan updated her WeChat Moments again. It was a night view photo taken from the passenger seat. The caption read: [No matter when or where, you always show up by my side in time and make me feel safe.] I looked at the post and simply wrapped my coat tighter. But the cold wind still slipped in mercilessly, chilling me to the bone. An hour later, I finally got a car. I got into the taxi, gave the driver my destination, leaned back against the seat, and closed my eyes in exhaustion. I didn’t know how long it had been when the car suddenly jolted violently. A massive force threw my entire body forward. A sharp pain pierced my forehead, and warm liquid flowed down from my head. My consciousness began to scatter. In the chaos, by instinct, I opened my contacts and dialed the most familiar number. The call connected. But the voice on the other end was not Adrian Ashford’s. “Hello, Ms. Clark?” It was Lily Sullivan’s voice, arrogant, smug, and careless. “Mr. Ashford is taking a shower. If you need anything, I can pass along the message.” My consciousness plunged completely into darkness, and the phone slipped from my hand. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital room. Outside the window, the sky was already bright. I glanced at my phone. Ten o’clock the next morning. The phone was perfectly quiet. Not a single unread message, not one missed call. Adrian Ashford hadn’t come home all night, nor had he called me once. The door to the hospital room was pushed open, and the doctor on duty walked in. “You’re awake? Where’s your family? Still not here?” When I was brought in last night, they had been unable to reach any family. “I don’t have any family.” I calmly shook my head. The doctor fell silent, then nodded. “You sustained a blow to the head and have a mild concussion. You’ll need to stay for observation for two to three days. Don’t do any strenuous activity these next two days. If you feel dizzy or nauseous, press the call button by the bed immediately.” I nodded in response. That morning, a nurse came to tell me to go for an examination. I walked alone down the hallway toward the examination room. When I reached the corner, I stopped. At the other end of the hallway, Adrian Ashford was carefully supporting Lily Sullivan. Lily Sullivan had one hand on her stomach, and her other hand gently hooked around Adrian Ashford’s arm. Her face was full of shy happiness. Adrian Ashford kept his head lowered, looking at her the entire time. Occasionally, he bent down to say something to her, his expression focused and gentle. I had seen that expression before. Three years ago, he had used that same expression when he accompanied me to my prenatal checkups, supporting me through every hospital hallway. I stood where I was and watched the scene, my heart oddly calm. Because I had known one thing for a long time. In that car accident three years ago, Adrian Ashford was injured even more severely than I was because he protected me. The doctor secretly told me that Adrian Ashford’s injuries had affected his fertility. He could no longer have children. I never told Adrian Ashford. I was afraid he would be devastated. I was afraid he would feel incomplete. So I kept it buried alone, covered it up for him, and told the outside world only that I was the one who couldn’t have children. But now, Lily Sullivan was pregnant. Then whose child was in Lily Sullivan’s belly? Things were getting interesting. I quietly watched the two people in the hallway. Adrian Ashford lifted his head, and his gaze happened to sweep over me. He visibly panicked. He immediately started running toward me, saying, “Evelyn, don’t misunderstand.” Lily Sullivan grabbed his sleeve at just the right moment, her hand covering her lower belly. “Adrian, my stomach hurts a little…” Adrian Ashford immediately stopped in his tracks. He turned back to support her and asked anxiously, “Where does it hurt? Is it serious? I’ll call the doctor over right now. Don’t be scared.” By the time Adrian Ashford looked back again, I was no longer there. I returned to the hospital room and lay back down on the bed. My phone started vibrating. It was Adrian Ashford calling. I didn’t answer. Messages popped up one after another. “Evelyn, where are you?” “Don’t misunderstand what happened just now. It’s not what you think!” “Why are you at the hospital? Are you sick?” I placed my phone on the bedside table and closed my eyes. Before long, the door to the hospital room was shoved open. Adrian Ashford rushed in. The moment he saw the gauze on my forehead, his expression changed drastically. He strode over and grabbed my arm. “What happened? You’re hurt? How did you get hurt?” “There was a car accident last night.” My tone was calm. Adrian Ashford froze. His hand loosened, then curled into a fist. Last night, when he heard the news that Lily Sullivan was pregnant, he was so excited that he forgot to send the driver to pick me up. “It’s all my fault. Last night, I told the driver to pick you up. He must have been delayed!” His voice was a little hoarse. “I’m the reason you got hurt. I’m sorry, Evelyn. Hit me. Yell at me. I’ll take it.” “It’s fine.” I pulled my arm back. “Your company is important. I understand.” Adrian Ashford lifted his head. There was no emotion on my face at all, and that made him even more uneasy. “Don’t misunderstand what happened earlier.” He sat down beside the bed, leaned down, and looked into my eyes, lowering his voice. “Lily Sullivan broke up with her ex-boyfriend, and that man has been harassing her. Last night, she was pushed down and got a little hurt.” “As her boss, I couldn’t just ignore it, so I came with her to get checked. It was on the way.” I looked at him. He said it so seriously, so matter-of-factly. There wasn’t the slightest flicker in his eyes. Had he told so many lies that even he believed them now? Had he forgotten that the department he was in was obstetrics and gynecology? Ex-boyfriend? Since he was so willing to be the father of someone else’s child, I wasn’t in a hurry to tell him. I would let him look forward to it more and more. When the day came that he learned the truth, the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment. “Mm. I understand.”

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Richard had been paralyzed for three years. I was the one who did everything for him—feeding him, bathing him, and cleaning up his waste. After the manufacturing plant shut down, I had to swallow my pride. At fifty years old, I took a low-paying temp job at an office, working alongside twenty-somethings. Every day, I worked from dawn to dusk. I’d rush home to flip him over, wipe his body down, and feed him. I left my debit card at home so he could have access to funds if needed. Every day at noon, I used DoorDash to have warm soup delivered right to his bedside. But last month, twenty thousand dollars went missing from the account. Thinking I was a victim of identity theft, I went to the bank to print out the transaction history. The recipient’s name was Chloe Vance. Richard’s ex-girlfriend. Every single transfer was made right after I left for work in the morning. The memo line on every transaction read: “Voluntary Gift.” I folded the bank statement neatly and shoved it into my pocket. When I got home, I warmed up some oatmeal and fed him, one spoonful at a time. He acted just like he always did—opening his mouth, eyes closed, completely motionless. I set the bowl down and wiped my hands. “Richard, you’re paralyzed and only have a basic flip-phone. How exactly did you transfer that money?” 01 “What did you say?” Richard opened his eyes. “Twenty thousand dollars is missing from the account. The recipient is Chloe Vance, your ex.” “Never heard of her.” “You dated her for three years before we got married. And now you don’t know her?” “That was decades ago. What does that have to do with me?” “Every single transfer was made right after I left the house. Only you and I know the passcode to that card, and you’re the only one home during those hours.” “What are you trying to say?” “I’m not trying to say anything. I’m asking you what this means.” He closed his eyes again. “Helen, have you been working too hard lately?” He called me Helen. For three years, he only called me in two ways: either a grunt to get my attention, or simply opening his mouth to be fed. The only time he ever used my actual name was when he wanted me to shut up. “Look at yourself. You’re fifty. Half your hair is gray, and you have more wrinkles than my mother. Are you sure you’re not just going through menopause?” “I am asking you about the bank transfers.” “And I’m trying to help you find the real reason. Women your age go through hormonal changes. You get paranoid. You start seeing conspiracies everywhere. Remember Sarah, the accountant from my old office? At forty-eight, she kept accusing her husband of cheating. Turns out she just had severe anxiety.” “I don’t have anxiety. I have the bank statements.” “Banks make mistakes all the time. Didn’t you see the news last week? Some old guy had eight thousand dollars randomly deposited into his account by mistake.” “He got extra money. I lost mine.” “Either way, it’s the bank’s fault. Why are you standing over my bed interrogating me? I’m a paralyzed man. I have a cheap flip-phone and two useless legs. How could I possibly transfer money?” As soon as he finished speaking, he started coughing. His whole body shook, his face turning bright red. I went to fetch a glass of warm water. It had to be exactly body temperature—he hated it when it was too hot. He took slow sips, then turned his head away. “Don’t bring this up again.” “Why?” “You’re waving a piece of paper in the face of your paralyzed husband who hasn’t been able to move for three years. You look like a psycho.” His voice was barely a whisper. “If you’re tired of taking care of me, just say so. I won’t stop you. Just let me rot in this bed. Nobody cares if a useless cripple lives or dies anyway.” This guilt trip worked every single time. Over the past three years, whenever I showed even a hint of exhaustion, he would throw this line at me. It was his shield, blocking any questions I had. I washed the bowl, mopped the floor, and soaked his dirty bed sheets. Before turning off the lights, I leaned down to grab some tissues from under his pillow—he liked keeping a pack there for his nighttime coughing fits. My fingers brushed against something hard. Flat, rectangular, with sharp metallic corners. A smartphone. It wasn’t the giant-button flip-phone I had bought him, the one that sat on his nightstand solely for emergency calls. This was a high-end smartphone. I didn’t pull it out, but I could feel that the screen was slightly warm to the touch. “Is the light off yet?” his voice drifted from the pillow. “Turning it off now.” I slid the phone back exactly where it was and stood up. “What time are you leaving tomorrow?” He had never asked me about my schedule before. “Seven.” “Tell your boss that the medical bills went up again this month.” “Okay.” “Helen.” “Yeah?” “Don’t talk about that bank statement anymore. If neighbors hear about it, they’ll think we’re going broke.” 02 “Ma’am, here is the transaction history for the past three months.” The bank teller slid the stack of papers across the counter. I hadn’t waited until seven to leave the house. At five-forty, after leaving his oatmeal warming in the pot, I slipped out. At six AM, the bank was practically empty. The statement was seven pages long. I flipped from the back, circling every transfer to Chloe Vance in red ink. It wasn’t just twenty thousand. In three months, there were eleven transfers. The smallest was one thousand, the largest was five thousand. Totaling twenty-eight thousand dollars. The timestamps were always between 7:15 AM and 8:00 AM—right after I left, but before I clocked in at work. There was even one transfer at 12:30 PM. I remembered that day. Our office was on break, and I had taken a twenty-minute nap in the lounge. “Do you need anything else, ma’am?” “Can you tell me which branch this recipient account was opened at?” “Well… by policy, we can’t disclose the personal details of other account holders—” “I’m the one who sent the money. My money was taken and sent to someone else. I can’t even know where they opened the account?” The teller hesitated for a few seconds, then tapped on her keyboard. “It was opened at the Pine Street branch on the East Side.” Pine Street. My commute to work was toward the West Side. Pine Street was in the exact opposite direction—a forty-minute bus ride. During my lunch break, I skipped the cafeteria and took a bus to Pine Street. I wasn’t familiar with this area. It was filled with brand-new apartment complexes. I didn’t have Chloe’s address, but I remembered a detail from Richard’s old internet service bill from three years ago, right before his accident. I had helped him set up a plan, and the billing address wasn’t our home. At the time, he claimed it was for a friend. I hadn’t questioned it. That address was 118 Pine Street, Pine Crest Apartments, Building 3, Apartment 140

The security gate at Pine Crest was broken, so I slipped inside easily. It was a modern building with a blue-gray exterior. I took the elevator to the 14th floor. The door to 1401 was shut tight. I didn’t knock. On the mailbox next to the door, there was a small label: “Chloe Vance.” The handwriting wasn’t hers. It was Richard’s. I had lived with his handwriting for over twenty years. The way he dragged the last stroke of his “R” was unmistakable. A man who had allegedly been paralyzed in bed for three years had his handwriting on his ex-girlfriend’s mailbox. I stood in the hallway and quietly snapped a photo. Then I took photos of the apartment door, the hallway, and the building’s exterior. By the time I got back to the office, I was fifteen minutes late. My supervisor, Sarah, gave me a look but didn’t say anything. At three in the afternoon, my phone rang. It wasn’t Richard. It was his mother, Eleanor. “Helen, did you forget to change Richard’s adult diapers today?” “I changed them twice this morning.” “He said you only changed him once. And his lunch was late. The food was cold when it arrived. Are you just giving up on him now?” “Mom, I had things to take care of during lunch—” “What could possibly be more important than your husband? He has been paralyzed in that bed for three years. You are his wife, Helen, not a stranger. You took vows. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health—” “Mom.” “If you’re tired of him, go ahead and leave. But think about what you’ll do. You’re fifty, you have no degree, no savings, and your old factory is gone. Where would you go without Richard? Who would even look at you?” She had said this so many times. The phrasing was always the same. Like a pre-recorded tape on loop. “I got it. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen tomorrow.” “And another thing, Richard said you’ve been asking him weird questions lately. It’s stressing him out. As his wife, you need to be more supportive. He’s going through enough without you nagging him.” I hung up. When I got home that night, Richard was waiting for his food with his eyes closed. I fed him, wiped his face, and turned his sheets. When I tucked him in, my fingers brushed the edge of his pillow. The phone was gone. “Richard, you’re out of tissues under your pillow. Let me get you a new pack.” “No need. I can reach them myself.” He could reach them himself. A man who supposedly couldn’t move his arms, a man who needed me just to roll over, could reach under his own pillow. “Okay. Get some rest then.” “Helen.” “Yeah?” “Tomorrow, make an extra batch of oatmeal before you leave. Keep it in the slow cooker on warm. Don’t order DoorDash anymore. It’s not healthy.” “But who’s going to serve it to you at noon?” “I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.” 03 “Which year of Richard Collins’ medical records do you need?” The hospital archives window was small, forcing me to lean in to speak. “October 2021. The car accident.” “Are you immediate family?” “I’m his wife.” The clerk checked my ID, searched the database for ten minutes, and handed over a thick manila folder. I didn’t open it at the window. I walked over to a bench in the hallway. Discharge summary, surgery logs, MRI reports—twelve pages in total. On page three—the spinal scan report. I am not a doctor, but after taking him to countless follow-ups over the past three years, I had learned to recognize the medical terms. “L3-L4 herniated disc. Mild compression on the dural sac. No significant spinal cord signal abnormalities detected.” A herniated disc. Not a severed spinal cord. I pulled out my phone and found the medical certificate from his check-up last year. It clearly stated: “Spinal cord injury resulting in incomplete paraplegia.” Two reports. One saying “no spinal cord abnormalities,” the other saying “spinal cord injury.” Same patient, same hospital. I looked at the signatures on both. The original MRI was signed by: Dr. David Miller. The follow-up certificate was also signed by: Dr. David Miller. The same doctor had signed two completely contradictory documents. I took photos of every page, put the documents back into the folder, and returned it to the window. At lunch, a young coworker named Lily sat next to me. She was sweet but incredibly chatty. “Helen, what are you looking at so intensely?” “Nothing, just checking my bank app.” She leaned in to take a peek. “Chloe Vance? That name sounds so familiar.” My fork froze in the air. “You know her?” “Not personally, but I’ve seen her on TikTok. There’s an influencer called @ChloeCares. Her real name is Chloe Vance. She makes caregiving videos, teaching people how to care for bedridden patients. She’s pretty popular—has like fifty thousand followers.” “What kind of videos?” “You know, stuff like how to roll a patient over, how to prevent bedsores, techniques for feeding. Very professional. Apparently, she’s caring for someone herself, and she posts updates constantly.” I immediately opened TikTok and searched “@ChloeCares.” Her profile picture was a white gardenia. Her bio read: “To love is to serve. Three years, day by day. I do it gladly.” Three years. I scrolled through her videos. She never showed her face, only close-ups of her hands. They were clean, well-manicured hands with pale pink nails, rolling a faceless patient over, wiping his back, and feeding him oatmeal. The oatmeal was served in a light blue ceramic bowl. Ours were plain white. But her feeding technique—scraping the excess off the spoon against the rim of the bowl before bringing it to the mouth, waiting patiently for the lips to open—was identical to mine. Richard was a slow eater. If you fed him too fast, he would choke. It took me six months of trial and error to master that exact rhythm. The comment section was filled with praise. “You are such an angel.” “This is true love.” “God bless your beautiful soul.” When I got home that night, Richard was waiting for his food, eyes shut. I brought the spoon to his lips. He opened his mouth slowly, swallowing one bite at a time. It took twenty-three minutes to feed him. “Richard, you seem to have a good appetite today.” “Yeah.” “There’s this TikTok creator called @ChloeCares. She posts a lot of videos about caring for bedridden patients. Have you seen her?” He didn’t answer. But his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Do you know her?” “Are you starting this again?” His voice suddenly became sharp. “I told you, I don’t know her. You have nothing better to do than creep on social media all day? Do you know how you sound right now?” “How?” “Like one of those paranoid, menopausal women who spy on their husband’s phones all day. Keep this up and I’m going to commit you to a psych ward.” “Fine, I’ll drop it.” “Good. Just do your job and take care of what you’re supposed to. Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” I cleared the bowl. While washing the dishes, I went back to Chloe’s TikTok profile. The latest video was posted last Wednesday. It showed the silhouette of a man standing by a window, wearing a gray cotton robe. He was standing. 04 “Helen, are you okay? You look pale.” Lily walked over with a cup of coffee. I was sitting at my desk, staring at my phone screen. I had watched that video seven times. “I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep well.” “Want some coffee?” “No, thank you.” I played the video again. The foreground was a sheer white curtain with warm sunlight filtering through. The background music was a soft piano melody. The man stood by the window, hands in his pockets, his head slightly tilted as if admiring the view outside. He was wearing a gray cotton robe. I had bought that robe. Last winter, there was a sale on Amazon—two for forty dollars. I got a blue one for myself and a gray one for Richard. He had claimed he didn’t need it. He said a paralyzed man had no use for a robe and that hospital gowns were fine. But the man in the video was wearing it. The collar was buttoned to the second button, and the left pocket bulged slightly—exactly where he liked to keep his lighter. The video was only eight seconds long, and it didn’t show his face. But I didn’t need to see his face. That posture—leaning his weight on his right leg, his left foot slightly flared outward—was a posture I had looked at for over twenty years. The timestamp on the video was last Wednesday at 6:00 PM. Last Wednesday— My supervisor, Sarah, had given me a mountain of spreadsheets to finish. I didn’t leave the office until 11:00 PM. I had ordered him lunch, left dinner in the slow cooker, and texted him before I got busy: “Food is in the cooker.” He had texted back: “Okay.” I had assumed he meant he would figure out a way to have the delivery guy help him, or just wait. But he had gotten up and walked over to get it himself. I flipped my phone face down on the desk. The screen went black, but the image remained burned into my mind. I scrolled further back into Chloe’s Instagram posts. The earliest post was from April 17th, three years ago—exactly three weeks after Richard was discharged from the hospital. It was a photo of a bouquet of flowers with the caption: “Finally, I can take care of you properly.” Three years ago. I thought I was the only one caring for him. Waking up at five every morning to roll him over, wash him, feed him, clean his bedpan, check his blood pressure, and do physical therapy. I had spent hours massaging his useless legs until my own hands shook with exhaustion. Three years. One thousand and ninety-five days. He had laid there like a corpse, and I had served him like one. Meanwhile, his ex-girlfriend was posting videos online boasting about her “devotion.” Before clocking out, I found an even older post on Chloe’s profile. It was from two years ago—a photo of a dining table with two cups of coffee, two steaks, a salad, and two sets of silverware. The caption was just a single heart emoji. In the top right corner of the photo, outside the window, you could see a distinct blue-gray building. Pine Crest Apartments. Two years ago, while Richard was enjoying steak and red wine with Chloe, I was grinding at my job just to pay for his medical supplies. On the subway ride home, I held onto the handrail, my other hand gripping my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. I got home at nine. When I opened the bedroom door, the lights were off. Richard was lying in bed in the exact same position I had left him in that morning. He was on his back, hands flat on the blanket, eyes shut. “Did you eat the soup?” “Yeah. It was cold.” “I left it in the slow cooker on warm. How could it be cold?” “Maybe the cooker was unplugged.” His eyes remained shut as he spoke. I walked over to the kitchen. The slow cooker’s indicator light was glowing. It was plugged in. “Richard.” “Yeah?” “What did you do today?” “What do you think? I’m a cripple. What can I do besides lie here?” “All day?” “All day. I can’t even get a sip of water when you’re not here, and you’re asking me what I did? Do you have a conscience?” His voice pitched up. “Fine. I won’t ask.” “You better not,” he muttered, his tone dropping back down. “Go heat up some water. My feet are cold.” I went to boil the water. As the kettle heated up, my heart turned to ice. I hesitated for a long time, then dialed the police department to report my husband for hiding and transferring marital assets. The officer on the line listened patiently before telling me this was a domestic/civil matter. They couldn’t intervene. I needed a lawyer.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “465598”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Today is Wednesday. It’s time for me to “accidentally” bump into my fiancé again. Half a year ago, Asher was hit on the head by a collapsing beam during a fire rescue mission. When he woke up, his memory could only last for seven days. Every Wednesday, his brain automatically formats. He goes back to the very first day we met. So, every Wednesday morning, I go to his favorite local diner to “accidentally” meet him. I chat with him about his ginger cat, Mochi. By the fourth day, he will actively look for me. By the sixth day, he will look into my eyes and say, “I’m in this for life. It’s you, Chloe. It’s always been you.” And in the early hours of the seventh day, I will watch him fall asleep, waiting for him to completely forget me when the sun rises. I have seventy-three voice recordings saved on my Snapchat, all of him saying those exact words: “It’s always been you.” His tone is identical in every single one. Because every time he says it, his love is real. It’s just that every single week, it has to start all over again. The week my grandmother passed away, I had to fly back to Oregon for her funeral. My roommate, Serena, patted my shoulder and said, “Chloe, babe, don’t worry. I’ll take care of him while you’re gone. Just focus on your family.” So, I trusted her. I gave her the address of the diner, his exact coffee order, and told her all of Mochi’s quirks. Nine days later, I finally came back. I unlocked the apartment door. Mochi was curled up on Serena’s lap. Asher walked out of the kitchen holding two bowls of pasta. When he saw me, he gave me a polite, friendly smile. “Hi there. Can I help you? Who are you looking for?” Serena wrapped her arm around his. “Babe, she’s my coworker.” ***0

“Do you want to come in and sit down? I actually made a bit too much pasta,” Asher said, placing the bowls on the dining table. He naturally pulled out a chair. He pulled it out for me. He did it with the polite hospitality you’d show to any random guest. It was courteous, but completely distant. I stood frozen in the entryway. The plush slippers on my feet were the ones I had spent hours searching for on Amazon. In the shoe rack by the door, his sneakers were lined up next to a pair of white canvas shoes. Women’s size 8. I wear a size 7. Serena’s hand was still wrapped tightly around his arm. Her nails were painted a soft, dusty pink. She used to only wear bright red, claiming nude shades were too boring. “No, thank you. I just came to grab something.” “What do you need?” Serena tilted her head, her voice incredibly natural. “The second shelf on the right side of the bedroom closet. There’s a grey knitted scarf.” She didn’t move. Suddenly, Mochi jumped down from the sofa. He scurried over to my feet, frantically rubbing his head against my ankles. “Mochi, come back here,” Serena called out, patting her thigh. The cat completely ignored her. Asher chuckled. “What’s up with him today? He’s usually not like this with strangers.” Usually. Usually, Mochi only clung to me. He hated being held by Asher and would always squirm. I had to support the cat’s hind legs from behind for him to calm down. But Asher didn’t remember any of that. Every Wednesday, everything was wiped clean. “Your cat is really cute,” I whispered, squatting down to gently scratch Mochi behind the ears. “You like cats too?” Asher’s eyes lit up. “His name is Mochi. He’s three and a half. See his left ear? There’s a little notch. He got into a fight with a stray when he was a kitten—” “—and it left a scar,” I finished his sentence. Asher blinked, startled. “How did you know that?” Serena quickly took the pasta bowl from his hand and set it down, her soft voice cutting in seamlessly. “I probably mentioned it at the office. I talk about Mochi all the time. Everyone at work knows about him.” She pivoted the conversation so fast, like a seasoned actress following a script. No pause, no hesitation. She shut down his suspicion before he could even process it. I was the one who taught her that trick. Back when we pitched scripts together, I told her: *If a producer asks a difficult question, redirect the conversation before they can overthink it.* “Yeah. Serena mentioned him.” Asher let out an “oh” and didn’t press further. “I’ll get that scarf for you,” Serena said, scooping Mochi up from the floor. The cat let out a sharp, uncomfortable mewl. She wasn’t supporting his hind legs. As Mochi struggled to break free, she just squeezed her arm tighter around him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it next time.” “Alright then,” she smiled. “Get home safe, Chloe. I won’t see you out. The pasta is getting cold.” Asher sat down at the table and waved at me. “Drive safe.” The very first time he said those words to me, he had chased me down half a block from the diner. He was panting, clutching the grey scarf I had accidentally left on the chair. That exact grey scarf. “Yeah.” I turned around. Serena followed me to the door, closing it until only a small crack remained. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Chloe, don’t come back next week. Every time you show up, his vitals fluctuate. The doctor said he can’t handle emotional stress.” “This is my apartment.” “The lease is under Asher’s name. You didn’t put your name on it back then, remember?” My hands clenched into fists inside my pockets. She was right. I thought we were getting married anyway, so it didn’t matter whose name was on the lease. “What are you trying to do, Serena?” “I’m taking care of him.” “You called him ‘babe.’ You’re acting like his wife.” “He was the one who called me that first,” she said, looking down, her eyelashes fluttering. “He said it to me on the sixth day after you left. What was I supposed to do? Push him away?” The door clicked shut in my face. The lock turned. Standing in the dimly lit hallway, I could hear the faint, muffled voices from the living room. “Is she gone?” “Yeah.” “Your coworker? She looks kind of familiar.” “She’s new. We aren’t really close.” Then came the clinking of forks. Light, casual. Like any ordinary couple having an ordinary dinner. I leaned my back against the cold hallway wall. A few minutes later, the living room fell quiet. And then, a melody drifted through the cracks of the door. It was shaky, off-key. The pitch went up on the third note, dipped on the seventh, and ended with a long, soft exhale. There were no lyrics, just a soft, humming tune. My grandma’s lullaby. My grandma was tone-deaf, so she always sang it terribly. I learned it from her, so I sang it terribly too. But Asher loved it. He said it was the only sound that made him feel safe. For seventy-three weeks, I hummed that exact song to him until he drifted off to sleep. Last month in our shared apartment, I had hummed it casually while sitting on my bed. Serena had tossed and turned on her bunk bed. “Chloe, what is that song? It’s kind of catchy.” “Just something my grandma used to hum. I don’t even know the name.” “It’s beautiful.” She only asked once. But now, behind that closed door, she was humming the second verse. Even that long, drawn-out exhale at the end was identical to mine. My phone buzzed. A Snapchat message from Serena. *“Chloe, get some rest. He’s asleep. Don’t worry.”* ***0

“What can I get for you?” “A cinnamon roll and a hot latte, please.” I sat at the second booth by the window. This was my spot. The one I had occupied every Wednesday morning for seventy-three weeks. The vinyl seat had a tiny tear on the side, and the table wobbled if you leaned on it too hard. Wednesday, 8:15 AM. Usually, at this exact time, Asher would walk through the door, sit at the empty table across from me, and order a coffee and a bagel. I waited for two hours. He never showed up. My latte went cold. A thin skin formed over the milk. I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. Serena picked up. “Chloe?” “Where is he?” “We’re eating at home. I made him breakfast.” “He always comes to this diner on Wednesdays.” “He used to. But I wanted to change things up. Eating the same thing every week isn’t healthy. Oh, and by the way, Chloe, he reset today. You know how it is. He doesn’t remember a thing. Calling him right now won’t do you any good.” He doesn’t remember a thing. Not the fake memories Serena spent seven days building in his head. Not that she was his “wife,” not her face, and not that lullaby. She had to start all over again today. “Where are you taking him today?” “There’s a new cafe on the South Side. I think he’ll like it.” “I’ve been there. He hates that place. The tables are too close together. He gets anxious. He needs a window seat.” The line went dead silent for a few seconds. “Thanks for the tip, Chloe. I’ll make sure we get a window seat.” I hung up. I paid for my untouched food and walked down to the South Side. Standing across the street, I looked through the glass window of the new cafe. Asher was sitting by the window. Serena was sitting opposite him. She had listened to me. A window seat. She was laughing, tracing something on the table with her finger. Asher tilted his head, listening intently, nodding occasionally. That was his signature look when he was intrigued. The textbook reaction for Day One. I knew this routine inside out. Because I was the one who spent six months figuring it out through trial and error. Day 1: Bumping into him. Talking about the cat. Keep it casual, don’t be too eager. Day 2: Do not contact him. Give him space to process. Day 3: If he shows up, let him speak first. Day 4: He will initiate contact. Day 5: Take a step closer. Day 6: He will say those words. Day 7: Watch him fall asleep. Wait. Serena sat there, executing my playbook, step by step. I turned and walked away. At 8:00 PM, I went back to his apartment building. I didn’t go upstairs. I just stood on the sidewalk below. The lights on the third floor were on. The curtains were half-drawn. I could see Serena’s shadow moving in the living room, holding Mochi. Mochi was meowing again. High-pitched, anxious cries. The cat was uncomfortable. She was still holding him wrong. Her silhouette sat on the couch. Next to her, another shadow sat down. Asher. He was probably staring at his phone, or just spacing out. On the first day of his reset, he always stared blankly into space. His brain was desperately trying to fill the void of his missing memories. And then, that familiar melody drifted down from the third-floor window. It was shaky. Up on the third note, down on the seventh. Through the night air, Serena’s voice sounded so much like mine that I could barely tell the difference. I stood under the streetlamp, listening for three minutes. Then, I walked back to my lonely room. Day Two. Day Three. Day Four. On Saturday, a coworker forwarded me a screenshot of Serena’s private Instagram story. In the photo, Asher was sitting on the balcony chair. Mochi was curled up on his lap. Asher was smiling. The caption read: *“He reached out to me first today. ☀️”* I stared at that photo for a long time. I was the one who planted the ivy on that balcony. I was the one who bought that vintage chair off Craigslist. I was the one who named the cat sleeping on his knees. Everything in that photo belonged to me. Except for the smile on his face. That belonged to her now. My coworker texted me: *“Is your roommate dating your fiancé now? What’s going on?”* I didn’t know how to answer. After a long pause, I typed out: *“We broke up.”* I closed the chat and opened Asher’s contact card. I knew his number better than my own social security number. Our last call was from ten days ago, the night before I left for Oregon. That night, he had whispered, “Hurry back. I’ll be waiting for you.” He didn’t remember. But my phone did. I took a screenshot of that call log and saved it into a folder. The folder was named: *“Things He Said.”* There were already seventy-three recordings in there. Now, there was a screenshot. On Friday afternoon, my coworker sent me another screenshot of Serena’s Instagram. It was a photo of Asher in the kitchen, wearing an apron, holding a plate of food. The caption read: *“First time someone’s cooked dinner for me. ❤️”* It was his signature lasagna. He used to make it for me every single week. Seventy-three times, he had asked me, “Is it good?” And when I said yes, his eyes would crinkle up with pure joy. In the comments, Serena replied to another coworker: *“He told me I’m the only one for him.”* I flipped my phone over, screen down on the desk. “Is it good?” His voice suddenly echoed in my mind. It was so loud, so clear, that for a split second, I thought he was standing right next to me. But the room was empty. My phone vibrated again. A text from Serena. *“Chloe, he made lasagna tonight. You told me he likes extra brown sugar in the sauce, right? I added it. He said it was perfect.”* ***0

“Your project is being reassigned.” Frank, the showrunner, slid a folder across the desk. The cover had the title of my script—the original pilot I had spent three months perfecting. “Reassigned to whom?” “Serena. She said you’ve been dealing with some family tragedy and aren’t in the right headspace. She offered to take over the client meetings so we don’t fall behind schedule.” “When did she say this?” Frank flipped through his planner. “Last Thursday. She brought your outline to my office and said you authorized her to take the lead.” Last Thursday. That was the day of my Grandma’s memorial service. I was kneeling in front of her grave, unable to even look at my phone. Serena had sent me a text that morning: *“Chloe, honey, take all the time you need. I’ve got things covered here.”* I thought she meant she was watching Asher. “Frank, I never authorized that. That outline is my intellectual property.” Frank sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You two need to work this out between yourselves. The network executives have already met with Serena, and they loved her pitch. It’s too late to swap writers now.” “It’s my show! The pitch deck, the character bibles, the episodic breakdowns—I wrote every single word!” “I know, Chloe. But the executives only know Serena’s face. She ran the last two creative sessions and they bought into her vision. If we pull her now, it looks bad on the studio. I can’t do that.” He said “I can’t do that” so casually. Like he was commenting on the weather. I stormed out of his office and immediately called Serena. “Chloe! Hey, are you back? About the studio—” “You stole my project.” “I didn’t steal it, babe. You were gone, and the network was breathing down our necks. I was just keeping the seat warm for you.” “You told Frank I authorized it.” “Chloe, I was panicking. I couldn’t reach you, and we couldn’t just let the deadline pass. I fully intended to hand it back to you once you got back.” “Then hand it back. Now.” The line went quiet. Then, she let out a soft laugh. “Chloe, honey, I’ve already done two rounds of revisions based on the network’s feedback. If you take over now, you won’t know what they liked or hated. If you change it back to your original vision, the executives are going to lose their minds.” “The revisions are still based on my outline. I can handle it.” “But what if you can’t? Why don’t you take a few more days off, let me finish this phase of development—” “Serena.” “Yeah?” “Do you think because I’m grieving, I’m an easy target?” There was a three-second silence. “You’re overthinking, Chloe. I was genuinely trying to help you.” Her tone was warm, gentle, and utterly sympathetic. The perfect facade. Like I said, I was the one who taught her how to play the game. I hung up and opened her Instagram. Her latest post was from this morning. A photo of her laptop screen showing my script document, next to a Starbucks cup. The caption: *“Crushing those revisions! So excited to be head-writing my very first show! 👩‍💻✨”* Head-writing. In the comments, our coworkers were leaving emojis of fire and congratulations. Not a single person pointed out that it wasn’t her show. Because they didn’t know. Or rather, Serena had already convinced everyone that it belonged to her. I scrolled down her feed. For the past ten days, her profile had been an alternating showcase of two narratives: First, Asher. Photos, videos, cute snippets. *“Making him dinner,”* *“He said the sweetest thing to me today,”* *“Can’t believe we found each other.”* Second, her career. Pitch meetings, late-night writing sessions, network feedback. Not once did she mention my name. Ten days. In just ten days, she had constructed a perfect narrative online. The hardworking rising star, the devoted girlfriend, the angel of support. And in her story, I was nothing but “a colleague going through a rough patch.” That afternoon, I ran into Zach in the breakroom. He hesitated when he saw me, then walked over with his coffee mug. “Hey, Chloe. Welcome back. You holding up okay?” “I’m fine, Zach.” “Serena’s been really looking out for you. At the pitch meeting, she told the network executives that you guys co-created the show, but you had to step away for a family emergency, so she’s carrying the torch.” Co-created. My pitch deck. My character bibles. My outline. She hadn’t even read the first draft before I left. “Is that what she said? Her exact words?” Zach tried to recall. “Yeah… she said, ‘Chloe and I built this project together. She’s dealing with a personal loss right now, so I’m stepping up to keep us on track until she’s ready to jump back in.’” *Built it together. Stepping up. Keeping us on track.* Every word was calculated. It wasn’t a theft; it was a rescue. It wasn’t greed; it was teamwork. Anyone who heard it would think she was a saint of a friend, and that I was incredibly lucky to have her. Seeing my expression, Zach whispered, “Is everything okay? You guys are a team, right?” “Yeah,” I said, throwing my paper cup into the trash. “A team.” As I walked out of the breakroom, my phone buzzed. A text from Serena. It was a photo of Asher sleeping on the couch, with Mochi curled up on his chest. She attached a two-word message. *“Good night.”* Every time Asher fell asleep, I used to text myself the date followed by “Good night.” She had even copied that. ***0

“What do you actually want, Serena?” Serena stood in the doorway of the apartment, blocking my way. Behind her, the door was half-open. The TV in the living room was playing a reality show, and Mochi’s anxious meows echoed from the balcony. Asher wasn’t home; she said he was at the clinic for his routine check-up. “I’m just here to pack up the rest of my things.” “You should have texted me first. If you show up out of nowhere when he’s here, it might trigger an episode—” “He’s not here. You just said so.” She bit her lip, then reluctantly stepped aside. I walked in. Everything was so familiar, yet completely alien. My slippers were gone from the rack. There was a new vase on the coffee table filled with baby’s breath. The framed photo of Asher and me on the fridge had been taken down, replaced by a selfie of him and Serena. I walked into the bedroom and opened the closet. The second drawer on the right was empty. “Where is my scarf?” Serena leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. “What scarf?” “The grey, hand-knitted one. I left it in this drawer.” “Oh, that,” she tilted her head. “Mochi got his claws into it last week and covered it in cat hair. I washed it and put it in the storage locker downstairs.” “Where is it?” “I’ll have to look for it.” She turned to go to the storage closet. I stood in the bedroom, my eyes sweeping over the nightstand. There was an open notebook lying there. I took a step forward. It was Serena’s handwriting. Round, neat cursive with little loops. The first line read: **Wednesday Protocol** Underneath, she had listed: * *8:15 AM: Cafe on the South Side, Table 2 (by the window). Order a bowl of oatmeal and black coffee. Sit quietly, don’t make eye contact first.* * *Talk about Mochi. Mention the nick on his left ear from a kitten fight. Keep it brief.* * *Thursday: Do not text or call. Let him wonder.* * *Saturday: He will say the words.* At the very bottom, a line was heavily underlined: * *Lullaby: Pitch up on the 3rd note, dip on the 7th. Long exhale at the end. Sing every night until he falls asleep.* My hands began to tremble. It wasn’t just anger. It was a cold, sharp pain piercing my chest. I wanted to scream, but my throat felt tight. She had turned my three years of love with Asher into a step-by-step user manual. Serena walked back in with the grey scarf. Seeing me standing by the nightstand, she froze for a fraction of a second. But she didn’t panic. “Chloe, those are just my notes. I was afraid I’d mess up the details you told me, so I wrote them down.” “Do you have any idea what those details mean to me?” “I do,” she said softly, handing me the scarf. “But to him, it doesn’t matter who is doing those things. He doesn’t remember last week. He only knows who is standing in front of him right now.” “You are erasing me.” “I am loving him.” “With my routine. My cafe. My cat. My grandma’s song. You copy-pasted my entire soul to insert yourself into his seven-day loop.” She remained silent. I clutched the scarf tightly. “You planned this from the start, didn’t you, Serena? You didn’t want to help me. You wanted him.” She raised her head, looking at me. There was no guilt in her eyes. Not even a sense of triumph. There was only a chilling, practical calm. “Chloe, let me ask you a question.” “Go ahead.” “Do you really plan on doing this for the rest of your life? Bumping into him every Wednesday, hearing him say the same words every Saturday, and watching him forget you every Sunday?” I couldn’t answer. “Don’t you see that you’re just torturing yourself?” She reached out to touch my arm—her nervous habit whenever she was about to spin a lie. “I can give him a stable life. He doesn’t need to remember the past; he just needs his present to be perfect. But you? You show up every Wednesday with tears in your eyes, looking at him like he broke your heart, and then you disappear. Don’t you think that terrifies him?” I stared at her hand on my arm. “That song you hum.” “What about it?” “How many times did you practice it?” Her fingers twitched, pulling back slightly. “It’s not just a song,” I said, brushing her hand away. “My grandma sang that to me. She passed away last week, Serena. And you are using her memory to seduce a man who can’t even remember my name.” Her lips parted, but no words came out. I took my scarf and walked out. That night, I didn’t go back to our shared apartment. I booked a cheap Airbnb near my office. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I opened my phone. Seventy-three voice recordings were lined up in a folder. Every single one was Asher’s voice. *“I’m in this for life. It’s you, Chloe.”* The first recording was from six months ago, on a rainy night. He had traced circles on the back of my hand as he said it. In the forty-seventh recording, you could hear me humming my grandma’s lullaby in the background, and his voice was thick with sleep. The seventy-third recording was from the night I got the call about my grandma. I was sobbing on the balcony, and he wrapped his arms around me from behind. *“Don’t cry, Chloe. I’m in this for life. It’s always been you.”* That was the last one. I transferred all seventy-three files onto a tiny black flash drive, no bigger than a fingernail. A week later, I found a small studio apartment across town. I packed my clothes and a few boxes. I locked the flash drive inside a small digital safe in the corner of the room. The passcode was Asher’s birthday. A six-digit number. Only I knew it. Before I logged off, I drafted a resignation email and cc’d Frank and Serena. It was brief: *“Resigning effective immediately due to personal reasons. Serena will take full responsibility for the project.”* I sent it and shut off my phone. The window of my new studio faced north. I couldn’t see his apartment building from here. The landlady, a kind older woman named Mrs. Gable, helped me change a lightbulb and asked, “Living alone, sweetie?” “Yes.” “Let me know if you need anything. I’m right next door.” “Thank you, Mrs. Gable.” As she walked out, she paused at the door and looked back at me. “K”Keep your chin up, honey. Whatever it is, it’ll pass.” It was only then that I realized tears were streaming down my face.

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