Category: English

On the day of the divorce, my husband Cedric gave me an old, run-down little house and told me to get lost. He said, “You haven’t worked a single day since we got married. Giving you this house is already more than generous.” But he forgot—it was his idea for me to quit my job and be a stay-at-home wife in the first place. After marriage, all the household chores fell on me. Since his father Anderson got seriously ill, I’d been the one taking care of him. Now, for the sake of his first love Alice, he wanted a divorce. But I calmly took the property deed without shedding a single tear and signed readily. “Deal.” He was stunned and scrutinized me. “Wesley, you better not try anything funny.” I smiled. He had no idea that a real estate developer had contacted me last week—this run-down house was about to be demolished for redevelopment, and they’d offered compensation of up to ten million dollars. What he knew even less was that I’d just received a report confirming I was the only person in the world with the same blood type as his critically ill father.

I put away the divorce agreement and property deed and stood up. Alice clung intimately to his arm and said in a saccharine voice, “Wesley, please don’t blame me for speaking out of turn. These past few years you’ve been at home living off Cedric. It’s only because Cedric is kind-hearted that he’s willing to give you a house at all—otherwise you’d be out on the streets.” I ignored her and looked at Cedric. “Is that what you think too?” Cedric looked completely at ease. “Is Alice wrong? You’ve been enjoying an easy life at home every day while having no idea how exhausted I am at the company.” Looking at him, I felt nothing but bitter irony. These past three years, living in this so-called wealthy family mansion, I’d been treated like a high-class housekeeper. My father-in-law Anderson had serious patriarchal attitudes. Because my first child was a daughter, he’d never given me a single kind look. My mother-in-law Judith was a status-obsessed snob who looked down on my ordinary background and resented that I was no help to Cedric’s career. As for my husband Cedric, at first I thought I’d found a good man. He said I made him feel the warmth of home. He said I only needed to take care of the household for him, and I didn’t need to worry about anything else. I agreed. Outsiders all thought I was living the good life. Only I knew he gave me just ten thousand a month to cover all household shopping and social obligations—even the housekeeper’s wages had to come out of that. Meanwhile, he could turn around and buy his first love Alice a boutique studio in the city center. After our daughter Betty was born, they got even worse. Using the excuse that girls were delicate, they forbade me from taking the child to visit my parents, yet never bothered to help care for her themselves. “Oh, by the way,” Alice smiled maliciously at me, “Wesley, you absolutely must keep Betty under control. Don’t use Betty’s issues to bother Cedric.” She placed a hand on her belly. “After all, I’m carrying Cedric’s family’s eldest grandson. I’m afraid the family might not have enough attention to spare afterward.” So that’s why they were in such a rush to divorce me. I suppressed my emotions and responded calmly, “Don’t worry. Once I walk out this door, my daughter and I will have nothing more to do with Cedric.” I turned and left without looking back at their reactions. The demolition household communication notice with its bright red stamp in my bag was all the confidence I needed right now. Taking my daughter with this fortune about to land in my hands, completely rid of this family of horrible people—it was like winning life’s biggest lottery. The taxi stopped with my daughter and me in a narrow alley. I got out and looked at the dilapidated two-story building before me. This was the wedding gift my parents had scraped together everything to prepare for me when I married Cedric. They feared I’d be mistreated at my in-laws’ and wanted me to at least have a way out. At the time, to give me face in Cedric’s family, both our names were on the property deed. Now, it had returned to my hands. I took out the key and opened the rust-covered door. Betty asked in her sweet little voice, “Mommy, aren’t we going back to Daddy’s house anymore?” Holding her small body, my heart ached. “That’s right. From now on, we’ll have our own home.” The next day, I took all my documents to the real estate company. After verifying my information, the staff warmly received me. “Ms. Wesley, your property’s size and location are both excellent. According to current compensation policy, you can receive around ten million dollars.” I chose the latter without hesitation. “I want the money.” That afternoon after signing, I took Betty for her favorite strawberry cake. Watching Betty’s happy face covered in cream, I felt more at peace than ever before. Thank you for your charity, Cedric. You used a run-down house you looked down on to buy out our three-year marriage. And I used the key you handed me to open the door to a new world.

Cedric probably assumed I’d take that broken-down house and come crawling back home in tears, or return begging him when I had nowhere else to turn. So when his assistant told him that house had already completed demolition procedures, he froze for a moment. “Lucky for her.” Cedric’s brow furrowed tightly. This was completely different from the script he’d envisioned. The feeling of things spiraling out of his control made him very uncomfortable. Just then, his first love Alice pushed the door open, carrying a bowl of elegant bird’s nest soup. “Cedric, still busy? I made you bird’s nest soup—drink it while it’s hot. You haven’t rested properly these past few days dealing with your father’s situation.” She spoke gently and considerately, naturally nestling beside him. Cedric smelled her expensive perfume, but the irritation in his heart didn’t dissipate—it only grew stronger. His mind involuntarily flashed to images of Wesley. She always carried a faint scent of soap. She never disturbed him while he worked, always quietly placing warmed soup by his side before silently leaving. “What are you thinking about?” Alice playfully pushed him. “Nothing.” Cedric collected his thoughts and accepted the bird’s nest soup. “Alice, about my father—has the hospital found suitable bone marrow?” At this mention, Alice’s expression grew heavy too. “Not yet… The hospital says the blood type is too rare. On top of that, finding suitable bone marrow with a successful match probability is almost negligible. The doctor told us to prepare ourselves mentally.” Cedric’s heart sank bit by bit. Anderson was the anchor of Cedric’s family. Once he fell, those circling vultures in the corporation would definitely seize the opportunity to strike. His position as heir wasn’t secure at all. “Cedric, don’t worry.” Alice grasped his hand. “I’ve already mobilized all my connections to search. There will be a way.” Cedric looked at her and forced out a smile. He didn’t know that his only real solution had already been pushed away by his own hands. Meanwhile, after receiving the first demolition payment, I immediately rented a large flat in a quiet neighborhood downtown. Next, I used this money to take over a ceramics studio near the west side of the city that was on the verge of closing. In college, I’d studied sculpture. Opening my own ceramics studio was a dream I’d shelved for years. I renovated the shop, added new pottery wheels and kilns, using half the space to sell pottery I made myself and the other half for pottery experiences. I registered a social media account and shared daily pottery-making content and cute moments with Betty. No sob stories, no complaints—just love for life. The warm tones and healing content quickly attracted my first batch of followers. Late at night, I’d sit by the window watching the city lights in the distance. I no longer had to watch anyone’s face, no longer had to hear those harsh comments about bearing sons, no longer had to face a husband who never came home. This freedom made me feel richer than that twelve million dollars.

Alice’s path to integrating into Cedric’s family was proving exceptionally difficult. She thought driving me out as the legitimate wife would let her smoothly take my place, but she underestimated Judith’s fighting power. That day, she accompanied Judith to the hospital to visit Anderson. In the doctor’s office, the attending physician gravely informed them, “Mr. Anderson’s condition isn’t good. We’ve tested samples from all direct and collateral relatives—not one matches. The bone marrow bank has also reported that there are currently no suitable donors.” Judith’s body swayed, nearly unable to stand. Alice quickly supported her and asked urgently, “Doctor, is there really no other option?” The doctor sighed. “No. Currently we can only gradually expand the search starting from people he’s had contact with. Though the hope is slim, it’s the only hope.” Leaving the hospital, Judith’s expression remained terrible. Alice tried to comfort her, saying carefully, “Don’t worry too much. Cedric has already brought in expert teams from abroad. I’m sure…” “What do you know!” Judith suddenly cut her off sharply, her gaze cutting like knives. “Besides spending Cedric’s money, what can you do? I must have been blind to think you were better than Wesley!” Alice’s smile froze on her face. Judith seemed to have opened a floodgate and began criticizing indiscriminately: “Wesley may have come from a poor background and wasn’t good with words, but at least she knew how to take care of people! Look at you—you don’t even know to pour a glass of hot water! Before Anderson got sick, Wesley personally prepared all those medicinal meals for him every day. And you? You just buy flashy, useless things!” These words woke Alice up. She finally understood that in the eyes of people like Judith, there was no such thing as true love—only utility value. When she couldn’t provide practical help, she wasn’t even as good as me. That night, Alice and Cedric had a huge fight. “Cedric! How did your mother treat me today! She actually compared me to Wesley! Didn’t you say that as long as I came back, you’d make her accept me?” Cedric was already overwhelmed by company and hospital matters. Hearing Alice’s tearful complaints now only made him feel irritated. “My mother is just anxious about my father’s illness. Can’t you be understanding?” “Understanding? How am I supposed to understand? Every word out of her mouth was praising Wesley! Are you regretting this too? Do you also think Wesley is better than me?” “Can you stop being so unreasonable!” Cedric slammed the door and left, not turning back to comfort her for the first time. He drove aimlessly through the streets. Almost as if possessed, he opened my social media account. He’d had his assistant go through some trouble to find it. On the screen was my latest video. In the video, I wore a simple cotton apron, sitting at a pottery wheel with my hands covered in clay, focused on shaping the beginnings of a vase. Sunlight streamed in from the window, my profile soft, my gaze calm and bright. Betty sat on a small stool nearby, also clumsily kneading a lump of clay, humming an off-key tune. The comments section was peaceful. “The shop owner is so gentle!” “This is what life should be like!” “The daughter is so cute. The blogger seems really happy now.” The word “happy” stabbed painfully at Cedric’s eyes. In his memory, I always had a hint of sadness and humility in my expression that wouldn’t dissipate. But this woman in the video was composed, confident, radiant. This huge contrast stirred an unprecedented sense of loss and panic in him. He irritably closed his phone and called his assistant. “How’s the hospital screening going? Has everyone been notified?” “Almost everyone, but… there’s one person we haven’t been able to reach.” “Who?” “Your ex-wife, Ms. Wesley. She’s changed all her contact information and hasn’t responded to private messages on social media.” “Useless!” Cedric roared and hung up, punching the steering wheel. The horn let out a piercing long blare, like mockery of his current state of mind. He didn’t know why he was so angry. He was the one who initiated the divorce. So why, when she truly disappeared without a trace, did his heart feel so panicked?

The turning point appeared in a place no one expected. At the blood bank center conducting bone marrow screening for Anderson, an elderly professor about to retire happened to see my name while doing final file archiving. Wesley—the name seemed familiar to him. He pulled up my blood donation records from years ago and my registration with the bone marrow registry. When he saw my blood type report, his eyes behind reading glasses widened instantly. “Quick! Pull up Mr. Anderson’s matching data immediately!” he shouted excitedly to his assistant. The two sets of data were placed side by side. The loci—a complete match. A miracle with odds of one in hundreds of millions had just occurred. The news reached Cedric’s ears immediately. After a brief moment of wild joy, he immediately fell into even deeper panic. Wesley, the ex-wife he’d dismissed with a broken-down house, was actually the only hope for saving his father. He immediately mobilized all his resources, even hiring a private investigator at great expense, searching frantically for my whereabouts. Two days later, the investigator placed a stack of photos and documents on his office desk. The photos showed my little shop, me playing on a swing with Betty in the yard, me shopping and eating ice cream with my best friend. In every photo, I smiled so happily, so relaxed. Cedric grabbed his car keys and practically tumbled out of the office. He sped all the way, running several red lights, finally parking on that quiet street corner half an hour later. He saw my shop. Through the glass window, he saw me sitting inside, head lowered, patiently teaching a young woman how to throw pottery. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Wind chimes rang out crisply. I looked up. The moment I saw him, I wasn’t surprised. I knew he’d find his way here eventually. The smile on my face didn’t even change. I just said to the young woman, “Feel it out on your own for now. I’ll be right back.” Then I wiped my hands and walked toward him, as if approaching an ordinary customer. “Sir, how may I help you?” My voice was calm and flat. Cedric looked at this face so close yet utterly unfamiliar, his throat tight. He spoke with difficulty, his voice hoarse. “Wesley, let’s talk.” “Sure.” I pointed to the small stone table in the yard. “Let’s talk here. I’m busy in the shop.” We sat across from each other. He looked at me with complex emotions in his eyes. He pulled a document from his suit pocket and pushed it in front of me. “Wesley, I know you hate me. But this time, I’m begging you. As long as you’re willing to donate bone marrow to save my father, I’ll agree to any condition. This is an asset transfer agreement. My large flat in the city center, plus twenty million in cash from my personal account—it’s all yours.” He thought this was the greatest sincerity he could offer. I didn’t even glance at the document. I simply picked up my teacup, blew on the steam, then raised my eyes to look at him calmly. “Cedric, did you forget? We’re already divorced.” “According to the law, we’re strangers now.” “What makes you think a stranger has any obligation to undergo a risky major surgery for your father?” My words drained all color from his face instantly.

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I had been friends with Harry for twenty-six years. Being of opposite genders, he was a hopeless romantic who never quite learned to take care of himself. Whenever he fell in love, I would step back and cut contact entirely. On my twenty-seven birthday, perhaps exhausted by his family’s pressure to settle down, he appeared on my doorstep at dawn. Alice, why do not we just give it a try. I was about to snap at him, but he held up a hand. I am serious. It was the first time he had ever crossed the line, offering me his hand. I studied him for a few seconds. Harry, I warned, if we become a couple and it ends, do not expect me to remain your friend. He laughed, that lazy, careless grin of his playing on his lips. It will not end. I could never bear to lose you. I took his hand. And just like that, we gave it a try. That try lasted three years. At our engagement party, Harry slipped onto the balcony with some friends to smoke. Harry, I heard Cole ask from the shadows, you were so afraid your grandfather would come after Sera, you begged Alice to play the role and cover for her, but today I noticed, Alice actually seems to be all in. You did not tell her it was a performance, did you? 1 The hazy smoke obscured Harry’s face as he answered, his voice cold and indifferent. It happened too fast that day. I just forgot. My steps halted at the corner. I was holding the flu medication I had brought for him. Cole let out a sharp curse, calling him a monster, before leaning closer. Then what is your plan with Alice? Are you really going to marry her or not? I saw Sera texting you last night. You were at her place in a bathrobe making late night snacks the night before your engagement. Harry laughed. Sera is my girlfriend, obviously. As for Alice, she is just a family arrangement. Whether we actually marry or not makes no difference. I knew she was into me years ago. Giving her a good marriage and a title is the least I can do. The glass in my hand burned my palm. I lowered my head, feeling a sudden, crushing helplessness. The medication was already melting into a sticky sludge in my hand. But the real burn was on my face. The agonizing shame of my unrequited love being laid bare and mocked. Alice is quite foolish, you know? I have been in the dating game for years, Harry bragged. Who actually gets breathless and cannot make eye contact with a family-arranged partner? She always acts like she does not care and tries to be so cool, but she is so incredibly patient. She humors me in everything. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, his tone radiating self importance. Two days before the engagement I told her I had a work emergency. She never doubted a word and even packed my bags. Last night I was goofing around with Sera at the window and came home with a headache, and since her medicine had expired, she ran out in her pajamas and a winter coat to buy me fresh medicine. She brewed ginger tea, tucked me in, and every half hour throughout the night she would wake up and check my forehead in case I spiked a fever. She probably has no idea how much she loves me. Cole let out a grim sigh. Harry, she has been so good to you over the years, I do not believe you feel absolutely nothing for her? I stood there, feeling like the punchline to a terrible joke. My eyes stung with tears, burning fiercely, yet I could not walk away. I needed to hear the rest. Harry answered without the slightest hesitation, dripping with sarcasm. What a stupid question. Of course I do not. We have known each other for thirty years. If we were meant to be, we would have been together a long time ago. I am drawn to the type of girl who is wild yet innocent, the captivating sweetheart. She is just a cold and tough rock. Nothing like my type. Love is about that instant spark. I do not believe in love growing over time. Even in thirty years, I will never love her. He took a deep breath, speaking with absolute entitlement. But Alice is my lifelong friend. She will be family. Even though I do not love her, I will never treat her poorly. I will have them both, Sera and Alice. My heart twisted, yet I found myself wanting to laugh. What did Harry take me for? A toy he could pick up when he was bored and discard when he was done? How small had I made myself for him to believe that marrying me was an act of benevolence. On the balcony, Cole sighed and clapped Harry on the shoulder. Let us go, the party is starting. Just to confirm, Sera is still playing the role of your cousin tonight, right? I turned and went back down the stairs, slipping into the restroom where I violently dry-heaved. The tears fell faster than I could wipe them, ruining the makeup I had spent hours perfecting. The affection I had nurtured over the years felt like a rotting swamp, dragging me under, choking me, filling my soul with nausea. My phone continued to buzz with notifications in the group chat. The party is starting! Where are the guests of honor? Harry and I will be there in a moment, and my cousin is coming too. Since when did you have a cousin? Where is Alice? She is so quiet tonight. I found an empty room. I washed my face and applied a light layer of makeup. Whenever Harry had dated someone else in the past, I had made it a rule to cut contact. I wanted to see what his darling was like. As for him and I… I pressed a cotton swab against the corner of my eye to soak up the tears, making sure not to ruin my face. Harry probably thought that when I told him friendship was over if we broke up, it was a joke. But I never run out of friends. And I certainly refuse to waste another second on someone who does not love me. 2 Darling, why are you just now arriving? The moment I sat down Harry whined and leaned into me. I still have not taken my medicine, my cough is getting worse. He blinked up at me, rubbing his face against my shoulder, shedding every shred of the cold indifference he had displayed on the balcony. The friends around us catcalled. Oh get a room you two, take this romance elsewhere! They are stuck to each other like glue. If they were not such a perfect match and Harry was not my best friend, I would have kicked them out of the chat years ago! Now this is what I call a happy ending! Childhood sweethearts, meant to be! Harry was a reckless playboy for twenty years, and look at him now, completely tamed by our Alice. It makes me believe in love. The sticky, ruined syrup of the medication still stained my palm. I suppressed the nausea and offered a soft smile. I leaned forward slightly, reaching for the champagne on the corner of the table, putting physical space between us. Where is Cole? I asked. Harry, who had been trying to lean in again, froze at my question. He shifted back onto the sofa. He went to pick up his sister. Oh, here they are now. Cole walked in alongside a slender girl in a white dress, sitting them down half a meter away. Man you are so lucky, your sister is gorgeous. You need to introduce her to the single guys in here. A friend teased. Cole shot a guilty look at Harry and replied. This is my sister, Sera. She has not been out much. She is shy, so do not overwhelm her. Amidst the cheerful laughter I studied Sera, and noticed her wet, longing eyes fixed on Harry. The man who had been pressing against me earlier now casually drifted away, settling comfortably onto the far side of the sofa. Hazel, my best friend, noticed my gloom. She laughed brightly. Do not look at him little girl, he is getting married soon. Sera’s face flushed red. She looked away and laughed with an awkward embarrassment. I am sorry, I have a boyfriend. Harry laughed, though his voice held a sharp, protective edge. Hazel, you like to play around, but not every girl is like you. Hazel’s temper flared. She stood up, ready to lunge at Harry. I held her back and smiled at Harry. It sounds like you are such a saint, but Hazel has never cheated on anyone. Harry was stunned. He instinctively dodged my gaze, but forced a confident, casual laugh. I did not either darling. Why are you snapping at me? Seeing my dark expression, Harry downed a glass of alcohol. My apologies, I spoke out of turn. Let us move on. In the chatter, I saw Sera gazing at Harry with profound heartache, as if I were the villain torturing their tragic, star-crossed love. Alright, let us play a game! How about we scroll through our photo albums? Cole suggested, acting as the peacemaker. Be sure to hide anything embarrassing, do not terrify everyone. Let us set the date. May seventeenth, two thousand and twenty-three! Everyone pulled out their phones. If it landed on you, you had to open that date and show the room what you were doing. The spinning bottle stopped on me. My screen was mirrored onto the big projector. The beach, a candlelit dinner, and a screenshot of a delivery locker confirmation code. That was your birthday trip! You two went to the beach together that year, right? Hazel teased, leaning into my shoulder, lowering her voice. I asked you once if, after twenty eight years of celibacy, a man’s embrace was worth it? I smiled at Hazel. The beautiful memories mirroring on the screen now tasted like ash. A friend with sharp eyes pointed at the screen and asked Harry. You two ordering delivery at two in the morning? What kind of food? Was it… you know what! Everyone erupted in laughter. Harry, usually the life of the party, could not bring himself to smile. He glanced at the pale, fragile face of Sera. Not that, just some medicine. Do not jump to conclusions. A sudden malice swelled in my chest. Buying medicine, I said with a gentle, honeyed smile, was that not because you hurt me that night? I ripped my own wounds open to poison the air. You were so aggressive, I do not know what you were so excited about. That dress was very expensive, I only wore it once. Harry, it is as if you had never been with anyone before, your technique is so terrible. Did the girls you liked before not let you touch them? As the group laughed and teased, I saw Sera wipe away tears, and saw Harry’s face twist in suppressed, agonizing frustration. Despite laughing out loud, I felt a suffocating, crushing ache in my chest. Next! Cole wiped the sweat from his forehead and spun the bottle. It landed on Sera. She managed a fragile, wounded smile. My album is not really worth seeing. Hazel looked at her, then at me, her gaze sharpening. If you cannot play, why sit at the table, little girl? Harry frowned. Before he could speak, I took his hand. I leaned into his flustered face, positioning us so it appeared as though we were about to kiss. Puppy, I am a little hungry. Would you mind ordering some food for me? Harry paused for a few seconds before standing up to use the tablet at the service counter. I watched Sera and heard her sharp intake of breath. She was glaring at me through teary eyes. It was the first time she had made eye contact with me all night, her gaze dripping with a desperate, naked hatred. The projection screen flashed with a screenshot of a chat. Are you sleeping with her? You said your relationship with her was a marriage merger, you promised you would never touch her! But my heart is only with you, Sera. 3 I would love some fries, Alice! A friend shouted for their order, their voice perfectly syncing with the final words on the chat. The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. I finished the order and handed it to the waiter. I placed my trembling hands under the table and smiled. Such a coincidence. But from what I am reading, it seems Sera is the mistress here. Alice! Harry suddenly shouted. Meeting my calm gaze, he forced a grotesque smile. Please do not speak so harshly to her. Before I could reply, Sera’s voice rose. I am not a mistress. She stared at Harry with a fierce, stubborn defiance. We were first loves, our first kiss, our first time, everything was each other. His family was just stubborn and would not allow it, or we never would have separated. Their relationship is just an open merger, his girlfriend has an unrequited crush, his parents forced them together! The girl vented her emotions, swiping through her screen. The day before May seventeenth, we spent his birthday together. His flight was at eleven, but he dragged his feet until nine the next morning to go to the airport, almost missing his flight. He bought me flowers before he left, we ate cake, and we were intimate for hours. This is the birthday gift he gave me, she said, holding up a sparkling sapphire ring. I just looked at it once on his phone, and he bought it for me. He said I was the only one he would ever buy rings for. I froze. I had been at that auction, I had wanted that very ring, but an anonymous bidder had bought it. Harry told me he would buy me an even more beautiful one. But now, as we were already engaged, I looked down at my bare fingers. Harry never bought me a ring. Sera swiped back to the seventeenth on her phone. I looked at the chat screenshots. While he was at my side, Harry had been texting Sera until late that night. She had photos of the beautiful views, the beautiful jewelry Harry had noted in his calendar to have couriered to her. There was a photo of a birthday cake, and in the shadow, I could see my clothes and my chin. I had my hands folded, eyes closed, wishing to spend the rest of my life with the man I loved. At that time he was right beside me, yet messaging Sera. This cake is delicious, I will have to buy it for you soon. 4 It was repulsive. I rested my hand on Hazel’s leg. The moment she saw the photo, she reached for her wine glass. That is… that is! Do not rush, I smiled at Hazel. She had tears of fury in her eyes, quietly cursing him as a fool, a scum. The air in the room was suffocatingly still. Is that it for you, Miss Sera? Then let us move on to the next round. I spun the bottle smoothly. I want to look at April second, two thousand and twenty-five. Anyone want to play? Harry lost his composure for the first time. He suddenly draped his arm around my shoulder. Darling, my head hurts. I had some medicine today and I should not drink. Let us go to the hospital. I pulled his hand away inch by inch and smiled. No. I opened my phone first. The screen displayed the sterile walls of a hospital room. Photos of post operative care records. Medical notes. Screenshots of my messages to my mother. The doctor says I might not be able to have children again. Mom, the hit and run driver has not been found. Let us postpone the legal marriage registration. April second was five days after the accident. It happened on the day Harry and I were on our way to register our marriage. A car suddenly swerved in front of us. There was plenty of distance to brake safely. Harry was a racing driver, yet he was so anxious that he violently jerked the steering wheel, slamming my side of the car into the guardrail. The child, who had just gained a heartbeat, was gone. I was critically injured and spent three days in the ICU. When I woke, Harry was on his knees by my bed, having lost so much weight. He told me he did not care about children, but he had to marry me, he had to have me. Let us not look, Alice, Harry gripped my hand, panic seeping into his eyes. I really do not feel well, let us go, please. Sera hesitated, wanting to put her phone away, but Hazel snatched it. Hazel scrolled mercilessly to that day, landing on a selfie of Sera in a playful set of lingerie, and a video panning over a filthy, messy ground. In the background of chaotic panting, I heard Sera’s weeping. Why are you here if you hate me so much and never want to see me again? The man kissed her aggressively while calming her, saying, Sera, it is my child, you know she might never get pregnant again. I can have children for you! Sera’s voice was so wronged. If you want to compensate her, just give her our child. Harry sighed. I love you too much to let you lose our child. Let it be, it is something we both owe her. I sat through this pathetic drama, finished my last glass of wine, and set it down. It felt as though thirty years of entanglement had melted away. Harry, let us break up.

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Cold war, day five. I swallowed my pride, heading to Terry Edward’s place to make amends. My fingerprint stubbornly refused to unlock his door. Then the door opened, and the girl who had tormented me in high school stood there, wearing his shirt, smiling at me. Terry lazily emerged from behind her. “Know you messed up?” My heart utterly broken, I fled the country. Six months later, at a friend’s engagement party. Terry scoffed, “Audrey Hayes, you still can’t let go of me, can you?” I offered a soft smile. “I’m here to deliver my wedding invitation.” 1 It had been five days since Terry and I started our cold war. It was also our five-year anniversary. I’d carefully picked out the watch he’d been eyeing and brought a small cake, ready to patch things up. When I arrived at his villa, the fingerprint scanner kept flashing “authentication failed.” Then the door opened, and Scarlett stood there, smiling at me, wearing Terry’s shirt. My mind went blank. My feet instinctively recoiled a few steps. She was the girl who had bullied me all through high school. “Who is it?” Terry lazily poked his head out from behind Scarlett. He looked me up and down, then let out a scoff. “Audrey Walker, know you messed up?” Before I could even react, Terry pulled me inside. The villa was adorned with balloons, flowers, and champagne. The glaring neon sign Bachelor Party screamed at me. Many of his friends were in the living room. Seeing me enter, they started to tease. “Audrey, you almost let Terry join our bachelor ranks!” “Such a long cold war this time, aren’t you afraid he’d be snatched by some other girl?” Scarlett chimed in. “Don’t say that. Terry is deeply devoted to Audrey.” She pouted playfully. “Remember how he forced me to transfer schools for her? Thinking about it now, I still feel wronged.” Terry put an arm around my shoulder. “Audrey, it’s been so long. You wouldn’t still hold a grudge, would you?” I neither nodded nor shook my head. I couldn’t forgive her. From freshman year, Scarlett had tormented me. She and a few other girls would corner me, raining slaps, glue, and garbage down on me. Bugs in my pencil case, rats in my backpack, even forcing me to get a buzz cut. Those years were the darkest chapter of my life. It wasn’t until the last semester that Terry transferred to our school. He was like a ray of light, pulling me out of the gutter. He used his connections to make Scarlett transfer and declared in front of the entire school: anyone who dared to bully Audrey Walker would have to answer to him. He became my deskmate, brushing his fingers through my short hair, smiling, “Audrey, only you could pull off this haircut.” Even now, seeing Scarlett, I couldn’t bring myself to be calm. The fear inside me surged violently. I lowered my voice, pleading in Terry’s ear, “Terry, can you ask her to leave?” His arm around me tightened. “It’s been years, no need to be dramatic.” His voice wasn’t quiet, and Scarlett heard him. She looked at me, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Audrey Walker, I just got back from overseas. You’re not trying to make Terry send me away again, are you? All that stuff when we were kids, it was just playful teasing. Does it really matter?” Others chimed in, echoing her sentiment. “Who hasn’t had a rebellious phase when they were young?” My nails dug into my palms. They called that “rebellious.” Even Terry thought it was nothing. I stood up, all eyes turning to me. I felt incredibly uncomfortable. “I have something to do, I’m leaving now. You all have fun.” I practically fled. Running far from the villa, my hands still trembled. My heart hammered like a drum. I couldn’t face the unbearable past. I just wanted to bury it deep, never to see the light of day again. 2 The next day, Terry picked me up from work. He was wearing the watch I’d given him, a triumphant grin on his face. I kept my expression neutral, though my stomach churned with unease. I had no right to tell him who his friends could be. He drove me back to his villa. The moment we stepped inside, his passionate kisses descended upon me. “Audrey, I missed you so much.” I wasn’t in the mood and tried to push him away. He mistook my reluctance for playing hard to get, and his desire only intensified. Pinned against the sofa, our breaths grew heavier. “Beep – Unlocked.” We both shot up from the sofa, fumbling to straighten our rumpled clothes. Before we could even see who it was, a familiar voice filled the air. “Terry, can’t you two go to the bedroom?” It was Scarlett’s voice. I stared at Terry in disbelief. The interruption clearly annoyed him too. “Scarlett, could you please knock next time?” My hands trembled uncontrollably. I pointed at Scarlett. “Terry, why does she have your house code?” Terry realized I was angry. He stepped forward and took my hand. “Honey, she just got back from overseas and didn’t want to go home, so she’s just crashing here for a couple of days. Let’s go to the bedroom, ignore her.” Slap! My hand flew up, striking his face. Terry seemed stunned, his head tilted slightly. Scarlett, however, rushed forward, shielding him. “Audrey Walker, are you insane?!” My eyes stung with tears. The scene before me was utterly unbearable. My boyfriend, standing behind the woman who had bullied me. The next second, Terry pushed Scarlett aside. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d been deeply insulted. “Audrey Walker, since when did you become so petty? Just because she bullied you back then, you can’t stand to have her around?” My tears fell without warning, my shoulders shaking. I broke up with him. Only later did I discover I had always been a fool. Terry and Scarlett were childhood sweethearts. He hadn’t used any ‘connections’ back then; he’d simply complained to Scarlett’s father. I don’t remember how I walked out of Terry’s villa that day. I only remember his roar before I left. He said, “If you walk out that door, there’s no going back.” The boy who once stood up for me now stood against me. I blocked all of Terry’s contact information. My heart ached, a suffocating pain. I lay awake all night. My dark circles were so heavy I felt drained of all vitality. Whenever I had a moment to myself, Terry’s face would appear in my mind. Sometimes, I’d have nightmares, dreaming of Terry and Scarlett bullying me together. I poured all my attention into work. The company had an overseas project, requiring at least six months abroad. I applied without a second thought. At least, overseas, their shadows wouldn’t haunt me. 3 But withdrawal was excruciating. The emotional backlash was like a hand at my throat, leaving me breathless, my hands and feet tingling. After work, I received a message from one of Terry’s friends. “Audrey, just apologize to Terry. Be careful, or he might actually get snatched away.” “As long as you say the word, he’ll forgive you.” The message was followed by a video. In a noisy karaoke room, Scarlett playfully leaned into Terry’s embrace. I knew Terry had sent it to me deliberately. Every time we argued, he’d use his friends to convey what he wanted me to know. This video was just another way of saying, “Audrey, if you don’t come back, I’ll be with someone else.” Terry always resorted to such cheap tricks. Sleepless nights persisted, yet in this moment, I felt an uncanny calm. I deleted everyone connected to Terry. This time, I wouldn’t waver. The night before I flew out, Terry appeared outside my office building. I stood by the main entrance, watching him. My eyes were red-rimmed, my lips parted, but no words came out. Just as I hesitated whether to approach him, I saw Scarlett. She walked out of a nearby coffee shop. Terry opened the car door for her, then leaned in and kissed her cheek. My legs felt like lead, rooted to the spot. The car merged into the rush of traffic, disappearing from view. I wanted to curse them, call them names, but my tears betrayed me, tasting bitter as they slipped into the corners of my mouth. Seeing Terry again… I wasn’t as strong as I’d imagined. That night, I cried until my eyes were red and swollen. Terry’s words from the villa kept echoing in my mind: “If you walk out that door, there’s no going back.” The future felt too distant… 4 Life abroad wasn’t as easy as I’d imagined. I felt like a body with its soul sucked out. During the day, I worked frantically. At night, I stared at the hotel ceiling, sleepless. Occasionally, I’d spot a familiar figure on the street, and my heart would clench, only to mock myself. Audrey Walker, you’re still thinking about him. A month later, I received a call from a colleague. “Audrey, did you have a fight with your boyfriend? Didn’t you tell him you were going abroad? He came to the office, frantic, looking for you. We told him you went overseas, but he didn’t believe it.” I lowered my gaze. A month. It took him a month to finally humble himself. “Why are you crying?” The man beside me offered a tissue. I blinked hard, indicating I was fine. After a brief chat with my colleague, I hung up. The phone rang again. As soon as I answered, I heard a roar from the other end. “Audrey Walker, you damn well hid overseas! Getting a temper, huh? You…” I hung up before he could finish, then switched off my phone. Caleb Vance watched me, amused. “A former boyfriend you can’t let go of? He’d make a decent bedmate, I suppose.” If he wasn’t my client, the coffee in front of him might have ended up on his face. Men were all the same. I forced a smile and politely flattered him. “Mr. Vance, you’re so open-minded.” Three months later, Terry appeared before me. He looked much more haggard. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, and his eyes were bloodshot. We sat in a café, neither of us knowing what to say. I broke the silence first. “Business trip?” Terry stared at me, his gaze unreadable. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “Audrey, I missed you.” They say delayed affection is worth less than dirt. In that moment, I understood the saying completely. But I’d overestimated him. His next sentence slapped me awake. “I’m getting engaged. To Scarlett. If you just open your mouth and say you object, my fiancée can be you, anytime.” I chuckled. Terry’s inherent arrogance was too obvious. Whether in relationships or business, he never bowed down. Even when trying to win me back, he pushed me to make the decision. Five years. I knew him too well. I saw the anticipation practically overflowing in Terry’s eyes. He wanted to get engaged to me, yet he couldn’t even say he was sorry. I swallowed, my throat dry. My voice was a little hoarse. “Congratulations on your engagement, Terry.” His expression instantly morphed into one of terror. “Audrey Walker, you’re just going to push me onto another woman?” Terry’s accusation sounded like a joke. I put down my cup, stood up, and started to leave. He grabbed my wrist, his grip alarmingly strong. “Audrey Walker, why are you so calm? Five years! We were together for five years! Just because of Scarlett, you’re throwing it all away?” I looked at his bloodshot eyes and suddenly felt absurd. “Because of Scarlett?” “Terry, even now, you still think the problem is Scarlett.” I slowly peeled his fingers off my wrist, one by one. “We’ve broken up. Don’t come looking for me again.” I picked up my bag and pushed open the café door. “Audrey!” he called from behind me, his voice laced with a rare panic. “What if I make her leave? What if I make sure she never appears in front of you again? Can we still…” I stopped, but didn’t turn around. “It’s too late. From the moment you told her the code, from the moment she walked into that house, everything was too late.” I walked away decisively, yet the words “getting engaged” still pricked me painfully.

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I gave nine years of my youth to the wrong person. Tristan Ford said Sophia Moore was just an ordinary friend, yet he held her daughter at the doctor’s office and let the child call him daddy. Before we even broke up, he had already proposed to Sophia. He didn’t know that the girl who’d worked three jobs for him in that basement apartment, who’d miscarried after drug trials for money, was the long-lost heiress of the Hawthorne Group. She was the long-lost heiress of the Hawthorne Group. Later, when he knelt in the rain begging me to come back, I laughed. “Tristan Ford, do you think I take in trash?” Chloe POV “I had a few drinks, can’t really drive…” The voice on the other end of the phone was slightly hoarse. I gripped my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white, cutting him off with rapid-fire words. “Tristan Ford, don’t tell me you’re planning to spend the night at your ex-girlfriend’s place tonight?” Silence on the other end for a moment. Then the man’s voice dropped, clearly displeased. “Sophia and I are just ordinary friends. Don’t let your imagination run wild.” “Am I imagining things, or are you hiding something?” Tears fell onto the back of my hand without warning, scalding hot. “Tristan, have you forgotten you have a girlfriend now? Staying overnight at another woman’s house in the middle of the night. Have you even considered my feelings?” My voice shot up sharply, my throat feeling like I’d swallowed broken glass. “Is it really because you can’t drive after drinking, or do you just not want to come home? You want to stay there with Sophia?!” These past few days, I’d been in denial. Like a thief afraid of the light, I’d been secretly checking Sophia Moore’s Instagram and Twitter. One evening, I went to bring Tristan stomach medicine. Outside the VIP lounge door, I heard his elite friends mocking me. They called me a clingy old hag throwing herself at him. But I didn’t have the courage to push open the door and confront them. Yet I was the one who’d been Tristan’s girlfriend for nine years. I struggled desperately to control the fragility and humiliation inside me. But my throat couldn’t help releasing a faint, suppressed sob. He clearly heard it. After a long silence, Tristan spoke with obvious irritation. “I’ll come home now, okay?” The call disconnected. Listening to the dial tone, I felt no happiness at all. I could hear Tristan’s impatience. He was only compromising because I’d forced him to. What he really wanted was to stay there with Sophia. I walked to the living room like a lost soul. I didn’t turn on the lights. I just sat on the sofa, watching the New York night outside the window gradually fade, waiting from darkness until dawn. The door never opened. Tristan didn’t come home. At that moment, I already had a vague premonition that Tristan and I probably had no future. But I was so unwilling to accept it. Nine years together, my entire youth. How could I just let it go? If Sophia hadn’t gotten divorced and come back to New York, if she hadn’t shown up with that child, we’d be at City Hall right now, getting our marriage license. We’d be planning a small ceremony. I picked up my phone and checked the date. Friday. The wallpaper was a photo from our junior year when we became official. Back then, I was young and bright, smiling so radiantly. But Tristan in that photo looked indifferent, his lips curved in only the slightest arc. I’d once seen the way Tristan looked at Sophia. It was on Stanford’s campus. Tristan held Sophia’s hand, smiling so tenderly, his eyes seemingly full of stars. That’s why I was so wary of Sophia. Because I knew Tristan had once loved Sophia unreservedly, with his whole heart. Did Tristan love me? Nine years, and Tristan had never once said he loved me. I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes, haggard expression-this face wasn’t young anymore. I took out my makeup and layered it on to cover the exhaustion, forcing myself to produce a smile. Tristan had promised me we’d go to City Hall today. Even though a voice inside me was screaming: Tristan won’t come. I still went out.

Chloe POV Outside the doctor’s office at the hospital, it was bustling with people. I stood at the end of the hallway, my whole body ice-cold as I watched the scene just steps away. Tristan wore the same shirt from yesterday, bent over, patiently coaxing a little girl about three or four years old. Sophia stood beside Tristan, her eyes red-rimmed, looking pitifully helpless. A family of three, picture-perfect harmony. I walked over stiffly. When Sophia saw me, she flinched first, then spoke with a face full of guilt. “Chloe, I’m sorry… Tristan said he was supposed to go to City Hall with you today. You should take him and go. Give me the child. I can take my daughter to the doctor by myself…” As Sophia spoke, she reached out to take her daughter. But the little girl clung tightly to Tristan’s neck and burst into loud tears. “I don’t want Mommy! I want Daddy! I want Daddy to take me to the doctor! Daddy, don’t go!” Sophia’s eyes reddened as she tried to pull the child away. “Be good! Daddy needs to go to City Hall with Chloe to take care of business. You can’t be difficult and delay them, or Chloe will be angry!” Chloe. When my name came out, combined with the scene of forcing a man to go get married, the looks from the people waiting in line around us instantly changed. “What’s wrong with this woman? The child has such a high fever, and she’s still forcing the man to go register their marriage. Marriage-obsessed much?” “Look at how she’s dressed-doesn’t look like a good person. Probably a mistress trying to force her way into legitimacy, right?” “Has to be! Just now this mom and dad looked so loving together. As soon as this woman showed up, she scared the kid into crying. Definitely going to be an evil stepmother later!” Every word pierced my ears like needles. I trembled with anger, staring hard at Tristan. I hoped Tristan would step forward and explain to these people. Tell them that Sophia was just his ex-girlfriend! That this child had no blood relation to him whatsoever! And that I was his fiancée of nine years! But he didn’t. Tristan’s brows were tightly furrowed, his face full of impatience as he looked at me. “Chloe, stop making a scene, okay? Go home first. I’ll go to City Hall with you next week…” “Next week?” I laughed bitterly, tears instantly flooding out. “Tristan Ford, you said the same thing last week. Nine years-how many more ‘next weeks’ do you expect me to wait for?” In that moment, seeing the coldness in Tristan’s eyes, I finally heard the sound of my heart breaking. Gritting my teeth, I spoke word by word. “If you don’t leave with me right now, we’re breaking up!” Tristan’s brows instantly knotted into a tight knot. He stared at me with those dark, inscrutable eyes that held a trace of disgust. “I told you I can’t leave right now. If you can’t even be this understanding, then we really don’t need to register our marriage!” A roar in my head. My mind went blank as I stared at Tristan, my eyes full of hurt and disbelief. I moved my lips but couldn’t make a sound. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain making it impossible to breathe. “Tristan, how can you say that to Chloe?” Sophia chided him gently, then turned her head to look at me apologetically. “Chloe, Tristan is just too sentimental. Don’t take it personally.” Too sentimental? Sentimental toward his ex-girlfriend? Tears broke through uncontrollably. I cried in front of everyone like a complete joke. The nurse called out a number. “It’s the child’s turn. Let’s go in.” Tristan didn’t even glance at me. He picked up the child and walked into the examination room without looking back. Sophia followed behind Tristan. Before entering, Sophia turned her head and gave me a provocative smile.

Chloe POV I couldn’t remember how I got home. As soon as I sat down on the sofa, my phone started vibrating. It was a FaceTime call from Sophia. I answered but didn’t speak. After a few seconds of silence, Sophia’s slow, contemptuous voice came through. “Chloe, you’re old enough that you wouldn’t stoop to desperate clinging, right?” I gripped my phone tighter. “What do you mean?” “Stop playing dumb.” Sophia snorted coldly. “Tristan just broke up with you. If you have any self-respect, you should pack your things and get out now. Stop lingering in Tristan’s house and pestering him!” “I’m pestering Tristan?” I laughed bitterly in my anger, though tears still fell. “What else? Nine years and Tristan wouldn’t marry you. Don’t you understand yet that Tristan doesn’t love you at all?” Sophia’s voice carried condescending pity. “Wasn’t today’s choice obvious enough? Tristan has always loved me. If I hadn’t gone to Europe back then, you wouldn’t have had a chance. Nina would have been Tristan’s biological daughter!” I bit through my lip, tasting blood. “But there are no ‘what ifs’ in this world! You were the one who abandoned Tristan back then! Sophia Moore, you’re shameless!” “Yes, I abandoned Tristan. So what?” Sophia’s laugh was particularly grating. “The one who’s favored always acts with impunity. I have the capital to be willful. Chloe, let’s make a bet, shall we?” Without waiting for my response, Sophia continued on her own. “Leave for three months. During those three months, I’ll get Tristan to propose to me. If I succeed, you disappear from Tristan’s world forever. If I lose, I’ll take Nina back to Europe and never bother you again. Do you dare?” My whole body trembled, my nails digging deep into my palms. “Don’t dare?” Sophia mocked. “Nine years, and you don’t even have that much confidence? Chloe, you’re truly pitiful. No wonder Tristan doesn’t want you.” “I’ve already broken up with Tristan.” I closed my eyes, desperately suppressing my breakdown. “You two can do whatever you want. You disgust me!” I hung up harshly. Within seconds, Sophia sent a text: “I hope you keep your word.” I blocked Sophia directly. I stood up, dragged out the suitcase from the corner, and started packing. This apartment wasn’t large, but every single item, from the succulents on the balcony to the rug in the living room, had been carefully selected by me. Once, I thought this would be my forever home. I thought we’d get married here in New York, have children, raise a cat. Now looking at it all, it only felt bitterly ironic. I didn’t have many clothes-one suitcase was enough. I left the keys on the coffee table. Dragging my suitcase downstairs, it had started pouring rain outside at some point. Cold wind mixed with rain hit me in the face, making me shiver. The world was so big, yet I didn’t know where to go. I stood in the rain for a long time before finally taking out my phone and dialing a number I hadn’t called in years. “Hello?” A low, cold male voice answered. The moment I heard that voice, all my grievances exploded, and I cried uncontrollably. “Hunter… can you come pick me up?”

Chloe POV Airport terminal, people coming and going. I sat on a bench in the waiting area, my eyes red and swollen. Hunter stood not far away, on the phone. Hunter wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his posture straight, his features cold and stern. Hunter was my stepbrother, the true power holder of the Hawthorne family, a low-profile billionaire. Years ago, to be with the penniless Tristan Ford, I’d had a falling out with my family. My father was so angry he declared he’d never had a daughter like me. These nine years, I’d suffered every hardship, doing Tristan’s laundry and cooking, scrimping and saving to support his business ventures, even secretly begging Hunter to invest in him. But now, I was slinking back home in disgrace. The announcement for boarding came over the speakers. My phone suddenly started vibrating frantically. Tristan Ford’s name flashed on the screen. Looking at that name, my heart ached with a kind of numbness. I answered. “Where are you? Why is all your stuff gone from the house?” Tristan’s voice was frantic, with that self-righteous anger. “We already broke up. I moved out.” I said flatly. “Have you lost your mind?” Tristan roared. “Just because I didn’t go to City Hall with you today? Is it such a big deal? You packed up and left home over this? Chloe, you’re almost thirty. Can you stop playing these games!” The airport announcement sounded again, reminding passengers on the flight to Washington to board. Tristan heard it, his voice suddenly tight. “You’re at the airport? Where are you going?” “Home.” I said lightly. “You paid the rent on that apartment. It’s not appropriate for me to keep living there.” “Chloe!” Tristan spoke through gritted teeth. “So I stood you up twice? You want to get married, we’ll go Monday! Stay there, I’m coming to get you now!” Tristan thought I was just throwing a tantrum, thought that as long as he beckoned, I’d come running back like a dog wagging its tail. “No need, Tristan.” I looked at the tarmac outside the glass window, tears silently falling. “Nine years. I’m tired. Let’s end it here.” “Chloe! Try walking away! If you leave, don’t you dare regret it!” Tristan threatened in furious desperation. I hung up and powered off the phone, popped out the SIM card. And threw it in a nearby trash can. Hunter finished his call and walked over, glancing at the trash can, then at my pale face. Hunter didn’t ask anything, just naturally took my suitcase. “Let’s go. Let’s go home.” By the time we arrived at the Hawthorne estate in Washington, it was late at night. My father sat on the living room sofa, his hair much whiter than before. When he saw me, his eyes reddened, but he stubbornly turned his face away with a cold snort. “So you finally remembered to come back?” I walked up to my father, crying uncontrollably. “Dad, I’m sorry… I was wrong. I was so wrong…” Nine years of obsession, nine years of humiliation. In this moment, they shattered into dust. My dad sighed and patted my head consolingly. “It’s good you’re home. I’ll introduce you to some new men. Your childhood friend Lucas Sterling has been wanting to see you!”

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In my past life, Ethan’s mom found a pair of sexy underwear in his room. Faced with Ethan’s pleading eyes, I accepted by default that the underwear was mine. From that day on, I became a thorn in his mother’s side. Later, after the SAT, Ethan—who should have gotten into an Ivy League school—only made it into community college. Ethan’s mom lost her mind. She set fire to my house and burned my entire family alive. Reborn into this life, back to the day the lingerie was discovered. This time, I’m not taking the fall. “You little slut! So young and already seducing my son into sleeping with you? Have you no shame!” Victoria Lane’s shrill voice exploded through the apartment complex courtyard. A pink piece of lingerie landed on my face, reeking of an indescribable fishy smell. My whole body trembled. In an instant, I remembered the bone-searing pain of being burned alive in my past life. In my past life, it was also today. Mrs. Lane publicly accused me of seducing her son. I was about to open my mouth to refute when I caught Ethan’s slightly pleading gaze. The rebuttal on the tip of my tongue was swallowed back down. I promised Mrs. Lane over and over that I would keep my distance from Ethan, never imagining that was just the beginning of a nightmare. From that day on, whenever Ethan’s grades showed the slightest fluctuation, Mrs. Lane would show up at our door crying and making a scene. My parents were tormented beyond endurance and even lost their jobs. I originally thought that after the SAT ended, things would gradually calm down. I never expected that Ethan—whose grades should have been good enough for MIT—dropped a bombshell on SAT score release day. He only scored just over 300 points. Mrs. Lane went crazy. In the middle of the night, she doused our house with gasoline and burned our entire family alive. My parents and I were trapped inside. The agony of flames licking my body and the smell of burning flesh intertwined. The heart-wrenching screams of my parents are something I’ll never forget in this lifetime. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. Ethan ran over and grabbed his mother. “Mom! Stop embarrassing yourself here!” Mrs. Lane thought her son was protecting me and plopped down on the ground, wailing, “I worked so hard to raise my son. Ethan is my only hope. If you wanted a man, go find those delinquent punks who don’t study. Why target my son? Are you trying to destroy me?” Mrs. Lane knelt toward me. “Lily Thompson, I’m begging you, please leave our Ethan alone. I’ve never wronged you all these years. Just let me live, okay?” With such a big scene, neighbors gathered around, pointing and whispering about me. “This Lily seems so proper though…” “You can’t judge a book by its cover.” “And pink lingerie too. Young people these days really know how to have fun.” I took a deep breath, my eyes uncontrollably drifting toward Ethan. Ethan’s eyes were full of pleading, just like in my past life. In my past life, I was soft-hearted and nodded, then carried the reputation of being frivolous and promiscuous from then on. Mrs. Lane went around saying I was young but already knew how to seduce people. Our whole family couldn’t hold our heads up in the complex. And Ethan, the actual culprit, never once stood up to say a word in my defense from beginning to end. I took a deep breath. “This underwear isn’t mine.”

Mrs. Lane froze, then sneered, “Lying through your teeth, huh? If it’s not yours, whose could it be? Besides you, Ethan never brings other girls home!” I explained, “I get to school at 7:30 every morning and finish evening study hall at 10:30. My mom and dad take turns picking me up. Plus, every time I go to your place, Mrs. Lane, aren’t you always there?” I looked into her eyes. “Besides, the building security cameras can check, the school entrance logs can check. If you don’t believe me, you can go look right now.” Mrs. Lane’s neck stiffened. “What if you cut class?” “I’m ranked second in my grade. You think I got a 600+ score by cutting class?” Seeing more and more onlookers gathering, the security guard quickly came over to maintain order. Guard Wilson squeezed through the crowd. “Alright, alright. I work night shift every day. This girl really does get picked up by her dad at 10:30 sharp every night. On weekends she still has to go to tutoring. Where would she have time to seduce your son? Making accusations requires evidence, doesn’t it?” My mom has always been kind to others and has a good reputation among the neighbors. The onlookers began to switch sides. “Yeah, I’ve watched Lily grow up since she was little. She’s well-behaved and sensible. She even tutored my daughter in freshman and sophomore year. Her character is beyond question.” “Lady, accusing a young girl without any proof is a bit much, don’t you think?” “Exactly. Besides, that thing is attached to your son. If he wasn’t willing, could a girl force him?” “Victoria, did you misunderstand something?” Mrs. Lane’s face turned the color of liver. Ethan’s expression was also ugly. He grabbed his mom and left. “Mom! Stop making a scene. Let’s go home!” Mrs. Lane was being dragged away but didn’t forget to turn back and glare at me with a vicious warning look. I stood in place, my palms full of sweat, but I knew this wasn’t over. Because Ethan really did have a girlfriend he didn’t dare let his mom know about. In the future, whatever trouble the two of them caused would be dumped on my head again. Soon enough, I met Ethan’s girlfriend. The next day at school, there was a girl sitting on my desk. The books and test papers I’d stacked neatly were swept onto the floor. She sat crookedly, as if trying very hard to contort herself into alluring curves. The originally oversized school uniform had been altered to fit her body, the collar open wide so you could see the low-cut bra underneath from above. I knew her—Madison Brooks from the class next door. With her grades, it would be hard for her to get into a good school. I stood in front of her. “Move. This is my seat.” She sat on the desktop without moving. “Oh, so this is Ethan’s little childhood friend? Pretty ugly, but you sure dream big.” She deliberately raised her voice. “I heard you left your lingerie at Ethan’s place yesterday. Mrs. Lane didn’t hit you, did she?” The students nearby perked up their ears, no longer sleepy or busy, listening in on the gossip. Ethan still said nothing. I smiled. “Madison, it’s not good to badmouth your boyfriend like this, is it? You two have already gotten intimate. Too scared to own up to it? Want to pin it on me instead?” “Enough!” Ethan looked at me with disappointment. “Why are you joining in on this nonsense?” I took a deep breath. “Ethan, control your girlfriend. If she keeps spreading rumors about me, I’ll tell Mrs. Lane about you two.” Madison obviously knew how formidable Mrs. Lane was and awkwardly shut her mouth. I gathered my things from the floor, grabbed my backpack, and walked straight to the last row, sitting down next to the school bully. The school bully was named Derek Frost. Tall and built, he slept in the back row year-round, and no one dared mess with him. He lifted his head to glance at me, then laid it back down. Ethan walked over, lowering his voice. “What are you doing? Move back!” “No.” “Don’t joke around with your grades.” He frowned. “Class is about to start.” I looked at his face and suddenly felt disgusted. In my past life, I took the fall for him. What did he do afterward? After our family of three died, Mrs. Lane was sentenced to death. He “turned over a new leaf,” changed his name, repeated senior year, then went straight to MIT. Living his happy, brilliant life. Never once saying sorry from beginning to end. “Where I sit is my freedom.” I looked down at my book. “Don’t bother me.”

During the break, I went to the bathroom. Just as I closed the stall door, I heard a “click”—someone locked it from the outside. Madison’s laughter came from outside. “Lily, you were pretty bold just now, huh? If you kneel down and beg me, I’ll be kind and pour a little less water on you.” As soon as she finished speaking, a bucket of cold water poured down from above. I was soaked through. Madison and her group laughed hysterically outside. I wiped my face, stepped back two paces, and slammed into the bathroom door. “Bang!” The lock broke. I rushed out and grabbed Madison by the hair, shoving her head into the dirty sink beside us. “Ahh—!” She screamed and struggled. The other three were terrified. No one dared move. I pressed her down, enunciating each word. “I’m not interested in Ethan. Don’t provoke me. Got it?” Just then, Ethan suddenly rushed in and without a word, slapped me across the face. “Smack!” My cheek stung with burning pain. “Lily, this is bullying!” He stood protectively in front of Madison. The dean arrived at the sound. “Everyone stop right now!” Madison covered her face and collapsed crying into Ethan’s arms. “I don’t know why she suddenly came at me. I just got a little closer to Ethan. If you didn’t like it, you could have just said so. Why bully me like this?” Ethan looked at me coldly. “Dean, Lily struck first.” I laughed coldly. “Then explain why I’m soaking wet.” “There’s a surveillance camera at the bathroom entrance. Who’s right and who’s wrong will be clear with one look.” The dean glanced at me, then at him. I knew that between Ethan and me—one ranked first in grade, one ranked second, both aiming for Ivy League schools—punishing either of us could cause problems. In the end, the dean glared at Madison. “Madison Brooks, 5,000-word self-criticism, to be read aloud at Monday’s school-wide assembly!” Madison glared at me hatefully. “Lily! I’m not done with you!” Monday, just after Madison finished reading her self-criticism, the school forum exploded. A user called “Ethan’s Wife” went on a posting spree on the forum. [Ethan wore a white shirt today, so handsome!] [Worthy of being my boyfriend, want to lick, want to lick] [That idiot Madison, why is she so close to my boyfriend?] [Ethan and I are childhood friends. I’m Mrs. Lane’s handpicked daughter-in-law. Does that bitch think she can compete with me?] The attached images were all private photos of Ethan—eating, sleeping, wearing a tank top… The angles were extremely intimate, clearly taken at home. Based on the deliberately provided “clues” in the posts, you didn’t even need to guess—it was obviously “me.” The student next to me gave me a thumbs up. “Holy crap, girl, you’re amazing!” “Lily dares to love and hate. Truly an inspiration to us all.” “Is this what academic love looks like? So thrilling!”

Soon, the homeroom teacher called me to the office. Sitting beside her were Mrs. Lane and Ethan. As soon as Mrs. Lane saw me, she rushed over, hand raised high. But before the slap could land, my dad grabbed her wrist. “What are you doing!” My dad pulled me protectively behind him. The teacher sighed. “You know about the forum posts, right? It’s a very bad influence, and Ethan’s grades have been greatly affected recently…” Ethan glanced at me, his eyes dark with unreadable emotion. “Lily, what’s the point of doing this? I don’t like you at all… If my past behavior made you misunderstand, I apologize, but can you please stop making things up about me?” Hearing Ethan’s words, Mrs. Lane became even more convinced that I was the one who posted on the forum. “I knew you had bad intentions! Last time it was lingerie, this time spreading nonsense online! If my son doesn’t get into MIT, I’ll kill you!” Both my parents spoke at once. “Our daughter would never do such a thing!” I pressed down my angry parents and spoke directly to the teacher. “Teacher, the post has such high visibility now that the whole school knows about it. The impact is huge. This could be prosecuted. Why don’t we report it to the police and have the cyber police trace the IP? Whoever posted it gets arrested.” Mrs. Lane froze, then immediately nodded. “Yes! Call the police!” Now it was Ethan’s turn to look pale. “We can’t call the police.” Ethan suddenly stood up. Mrs. Lane glared at him. “Ethan, how can you be so confused! The most important thing now is to root out the real vixen. You can’t let this affect your studies!” Ethan avoided her gaze. “Mom, we’re all classmates. Making this bigger will affect my studies even more. Let’s just drop it. I promise I’ll definitely rank first in grade next time.” The homeroom teacher didn’t want things to escalate either. If this somehow made the news and went viral, her meager salary wouldn’t be enough to cover the deductions. She quickly tried to smooth things over. “That’s right, Mrs. Lane. They’re just kids having little squabbles. If this gets out, Ethan will be pointed at wherever he goes in the future. Don’t worry, our school will definitely investigate thoroughly and won’t let other people affect your child’s studies.” Mrs. Lane looked at him suspiciously, then at me. Finally, she left through gritted teeth. Only Ethan and I remained in the hallway. He leaned down, lowering his voice. “What’s going on with you lately? Changing seats, getting into fights, now you want to call the police. Do you have to give me trouble?” I laughed. “Ethan, get it straight. We’re just ordinary neighbors. Your mom wrongly accused me, you gave false testimony for Madison, and now you want to pin the blame on me. I’m not allowed to fight back?” His face turned iron-blue. He couldn’t say a word. “Stop putting yourself on a pedestal.” I picked up my backpack. “I have no interest in causing you trouble. Don’t disgust me either.” As I walked past him, Ethan grabbed my hand. “Lily, you weren’t like this before…” I laughed coldly. “Ethan, I once thought you weren’t this kind of person either.” This time, I shook off his hand and didn’t look back. Mrs. Lane still didn’t trust me. She installed surveillance cameras in the hallway just to monitor what time I came home. She even stalked all my social media accounts. Even if I posted about going out to have fun, she’d immediately screenshot it and ask my mom if I’d brought her son along. My mom was afraid it would affect my mood, so she just endured Mrs. Lane’s harassment. But I couldn’t stand it. Friday evening study hall, I glanced at Ethan’s seat. He wasn’t there again. I heard he’d taken sick leave, but Mrs. Lane was the type who would make him go to school unless he was dying. I didn’t believe he was really sick. I took out my phone and snapped a panoramic photo of the classroom. Ethan’s seat was in the lower left corner. Most people wouldn’t notice, but I was sure Mrs. Lane would spot her precious son’s absence at a glance. I clicked send and added a caption: “Another day of hard work studying. When will the SAT come!” Less than ten minutes after posting, hurried footsteps echoed through the classroom hallway. Mrs. Lane rushed into the classroom, out of breath. “Where’s Ethan?” I didn’t even lift my head, focused on my work. “No idea, Mrs. Lane. Maybe check wherever there aren’t many people around?” Mrs. Lane seemed to think of something. Her expression changed, and she turned and ran. I leaned against the window ledge, watching her figure disappear toward the far end of the field. Before long, a piercing scream came from the direction of the small grove.

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After my husband Damien Carter died in the line of duty, I visited his grave every weekend. Five years later, on another weekend, I was in a car accident on my way to the cemetery. When I woke up, my best friend Gwen Mitchell tried to comfort me. “He’s been gone for so many years now. You need to move on and live your own life.” I nodded and agreed, deciding to take a job in the UK. Before heading to the airport, I decided on impulse to say goodbye to my husband at the cemetery. His headstone was gone. I pulled up the cemetery’s security footage from three days earlier. My husband — who had supposedly died in a fire — was there, holding hands with a pregnant Gwen. That evening, Gwen called asking if I’d landed yet, wondering why I wasn’t replying to her messages. I raised my hand and knocked on her door, smiling at her shocked, wide-eyed expression. “Your belly’s gotten so big. Why didn’t you tell your best friend?” That evening, I arrived at Gwen’s door and knocked. The moment she saw me, her phone clattered to the floor. I bent down and picked it up for her. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” She seemed to snap out of a daze, forcing out a smile. “Didn’t you fly to the UK? Why did you suddenly come find me without saying anything? I could have picked you up.” I let out a cold laugh. “Didn’t you sprain your ankle?” After my car accident, she’d been anxious and apologetic, saying she’d twisted her ankle and couldn’t get back from Los Angeles to see me. All lies. Just then, a delivery guy emerged from the elevator, handing over a large bouquet of roses. “Delivery for you — flowers.” Gwen didn’t take them. I did. “Honey, is that the delivery?” From inside the apartment, a man’s familiar voice made my heart lurch violently. The next second, Damien Carter walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron. Seeing me, he froze completely, his pupils trembling. I pulled out the card from the flowers. It was in Damien’s handwriting. “Dear Mrs. Carter, Happy Fourth Wedding Anniversary. Thank you for marrying me and giving me a lifetime of happiness.” I read it aloud mockingly, watching both their faces grow increasingly pale. “How wonderful.” They both stood frozen, unsure how to react. I walked toward the photo wall in the living room. Five years ago, Damien had supposedly died saving people, his body obliterated in a fire explosion. I’d been devastated, crying day after day until my retina detached. While they moved into their new home, excitedly planning their new life together. The day before I attempted suicide by cutting my wrists, they’d registered their marriage. While I was downing antidepressants by the handful, finding it difficult to even breathe or feel my heartbeat, they were traveling and vacationing around the world, skiing and diving. While I could only fall asleep listening to Damien’s old voice messages, he’d gotten my best friend pregnant and was reading picture books to their baby in her belly. I took down the ultrasound photo of the baby, my hands shaking uncontrollably. “Have you picked a name for the baby yet? How about Luna?” At Damien’s wedding, he’d said in his vows: “I fell in love with you at first sight. The night we first said hello, I’d already thought of names for our children. Luna.” Everyone had laughed, including my maid of honor — Gwen. Gwen had held the bouquet and playfully hit Damien. “If you dare hurt Keira, I won’t let you get away with it.” Damien had laughed and said he knew. Back then, immersed in exhausted happiness, I hadn’t noticed the subtle tension between them at all. I took a deep breath, grabbed a potted plant by the sofa, and hurled it at the photo wall with all my strength. Gwen jumped in fright, her face going pale as she clutched her belly. “Honey…” Damien immediately rushed to support her, helping her sit down. Gwen shook her head and pushed him away. “I’m fine. Go check on the soup in the kitchen. Remember, don’t add cilantro when it’s done — Keira doesn’t eat it.” I let out a cold laugh. “My dear best friend, so thoughtful and considerate.” “Enough!” Damien’s face darkened, his voice a low, angry growl. I laughed again, staring straight into his eyes as I walked up to him. I slapped him across the face. Not satisfied, I hit him several more times. He turned his face away, veins bulging and pulsing on his forehead. My hand went numb from shaking, my whole body trembling. Over these five years, I’d lost count of how many times I’d dreamed of this exact scene. I’d come home, push open the door, and Damien would suddenly be standing there alive before my eyes. I’d hit him, curse at him, cry and ask him why he left me alone. “Keira, I’m sorry…” Gwen dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “It’s all my fault. If you want to hit someone, hit me. I was the one who fell for Damien first. I seduced him, pursued him. I deceived you and betrayed our friendship.” She desperately pushed away Damien as he tried to help her up. “Go away! Go home with Keira! The baby… I’ll abort the baby. She never should have existed anyway, and I don’t deserve to be her mother.” Damien held her tightly, his eyes full of heartache. “Don’t talk nonsense. I love you. I love our daughter. You two are my family.” My heart felt like it was being crushed by a giant fist, the pain making my breath tremble. Suddenly everything went dark. I thought my retinal detachment was acting up again. Thankfully, it was just a power outage. “Ah…” Gwen screamed. She grabbed my leg, and I kicked her in the stomach. “Honey… the baby… my stomach hurts so much…” Damien frantically found his phone and turned on the flashlight. Seeing the footprint on her dress, his eyes filled with furious rage. He kicked me away with one foot. My head hit the cabinet corner, my back pressed against the broken ceramic shards of the flowerpot. My hand touched something wet — blood. Damien picked up Gwen to take her to the hospital, saying through gritted teeth: “Keira Summers, if anything happens to them, I won’t let you get away with it.” The door slammed shut. I lay on the floor, laughing and crying in the darkness. I don’t know how long passed before I seemed to smell gas. I tried to crawl up, but like in a nightmare, I couldn’t move at all. Maybe dying like this would be better. I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. I woke up with a splitting headache. My vision blurry, I instinctively grabbed Damien’s hand, my voice carrying a grievous sob. “Don’t leave!” He clearly stiffened. The next second, I snapped fully awake, remembering everything. He pried my hand away and placed it on top of the blanket. “Be careful. Don’t dislodge the IV.” His concern carried a deliberate distance and avoidance. I laughed self-mockingly. “Sorry, I forgot you’re my best friend’s husband now.” His expression darkened at that. He turned and pulled my phone from the drawer, handing it to me. “Your company called. They asked why you didn’t report for work.” He paused. “You should start a new life.” Everyone around me had been saying the same thing. A new life… just three words when spoken, but only I knew how difficult it actually was. From the moment I fell in love with him, all my visions of the future included him. When he died, my heart died with him. Now I’d tasted something a thousand times more painful than death. I swallowed the bitter taste in my throat. “Damien Carter, I won’t let you two get away with this.” His eyes flashed sharply, glaring at me with vigilance and resentment. “If you dare hurt Gwen and the child again, I’ll definitely make you pay.” With that, he turned and left. I stared at the ceiling and let out two cold laughs. When I first started working, my boss would take me to business dinners and subtly take advantage of me. I didn’t dare resist directly, so I complained to Damien when I got home. A few days later, my boss’s face was swollen like a pig’s head. “Don’t worry, he won’t suspect us.” Damien’s expression held a trace of pride, though it quickly turned serious. “Keira, no matter who it is, if anyone bullies you, I’ll definitely make them pay.” Looking at his serious, determined eyes, I was so moved my nose stung. I jokingly asked him: “What if the person bullying me is you?” He wrapped his arm around my waist, pressing his forehead to mine. “That won’t happen.” “If one day I really do make you sad… then punish me by losing you forever.” Losing me had once been the greatest punishment for him. But a few years later, I became the shackle he desperately wanted to shed. For that, he didn’t hesitate to fake his death and escape. I wiped away the tears rolling down my temples into my hair. Gwen pushed open the door. “Keira, eat something.” While arranging the contents of the lunch box on the table, she chatted casually. “The baby’s nickname is Joey. We haven’t decided on a full name yet. You’re the child’s godmother — why don’t you help us choose one?” “You understand, right? Your Damien can never come back to you. If you haven’t vented enough anger, we can keep playing along.” “Beef stew — Damien’s specialty. You haven’t had it in a long time, right?” Smelling the meat, I was hit with an even stronger wave of nausea. She smiled. “Oh, didn’t you tell me your sister finally got pregnant after so many rounds of IVF? Twins, even.” “What do you want?” I asked through gritted teeth, my eyes bloodshot as I glared at her. “I don’t want anything.” She looked innocent. “The key is — what will you do?” 3 She returned my phone. My sister happened to call right then. “Keira, I just received a package. Inside were two really exquisite dolls. Did you buy them?” My heart jumped. I shouted urgently: “Don’t touch them! Throw them out!” My sister was startled, asking what was wrong. I took a deep breath, watching the faint smile on Gwen’s lips, my spine going cold. My parents died in an accident when I was young. My sister dropped out of high school to work, supporting me and putting me through college. Her difficulty getting pregnant was largely due to overwork that damaged her health. Gwen knew how deep my relationship with my sister was, so she was using her to control and threaten me. After hanging up, I admitted defeat and compromised. “I won’t do anything. I don’t know anything. Nothing happened. My husband is already dead.” Gwen smiled with satisfaction. “Don’t worry, the dolls are just ordinary dolls.” “Hurry and eat. The food’s getting cold.” But the next second, she heard movement at the door. She flipped the small table over. Soup and dishes spilled all over my bed and body. The lunch box rolled to the floor with a clatter. Damien rushed in from outside. “Gwen! Did you get burned?” Gwen shook her head and smiled. “No, I’m fine. Check on Keira quickly.” Damien held her back, glancing at me sideways. “She’s fine. Don’t worry about her.” Another knife to the heart. Gwen looked even more satisfied. Damien protectively walked her out. I heard his voice, kept very low: “Keira’s emotionally unstable right now. What if she goes crazy and comes after you? I’ve already arranged for someone to come.” Gwen’s voice was soft and coquettish with a hint of laughter: “You’re so thoughtful.” They left. A nurse came in to clean up. I hid in the bathroom and called my sister back. “Hailey, will you come to the UK with me for a while? Have your husband take you to get your visa today. I’ll come back to get you.” Someone knocked on the door. I hurriedly told my sister one more thing and hung up. It was the nurse’s voice. I opened the door, and a man pushed his way in. Before I could scream in terror, my mouth and nose were covered, and I quickly passed out. When I regained consciousness, I was lying in bed wearing my hospital gown. Under my clothes were bruises all over. Gwen came in supporting her waist, like a friend sharing gossip as she showed me nude photos of myself. “Since you don’t trust me, I had to keep some leverage on you too.” “If you don’t want your sister, your coworkers and friends, or even strangers to see these things, you’d better keep your mouth shut forever.” I trembled all over, gritting my teeth and nodding. Gwen drove me to the airport and gave me a card. “Live well on your own.” I took it, but she didn’t let go immediately. “The password is the day Luna left. I’ve always felt guilty. Especially after I got pregnant myself — I kept dreaming about it.” I froze, realizing in a flash. “The car accident… you did it on purpose!” After Damien’s “death,” I discovered I was pregnant. Gwen advised me not to keep it. I couldn’t bear to give it up, so she said she’d help me raise it after it was born. But a few days later, she drove me out to relax, and we got into an accident. I lost the baby. “A child without a father is too pitiful. Better not to come into this world to suffer.” I swallowed the bloody taste rising in my throat and got out of the car. Just after getting off the plane, my old phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated frantically: “Is this Keira Summers, Hailey Summers’s sister? Your sister opened a package delivered to her home today. It had a strong allergen on it. She’s hemorrhaging badly and had a miscarriage. The situation is critical. You need to get to the hospital immediately to sign papers!” My fingertips instantly went ice cold. I turned around and went to the counter to change to the earliest flight back to New York. On the plane, I had a good cry. Back in New York, I bought a new phone and switched it on, then made a call. “This is Keira Summers. You said I could come to you if I needed help. Does that still stand?” 4 I brought my sister to New York, temporarily staying in a secure private community that the man had arranged. I felt somewhat reassured. I organized evidence and documents, writing two complaint letters. I printed the complaint letters and put them in two separate envelopes. One I sent to Gwen’s workplace, the other to Damien’s military unit. The afternoon after mailing the letters, I sat on a park bench, watching the falling leaves in a daze. These years I’d spent as a widow for Damien — it was all a joke. If only he had really died in the line of duty. At least then, we wouldn’t have come to this point, and my sister’s children would still be alive. Three days later, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Damien standing outside, holding two crumpled letters in his hand. The very complaint letters I’d sent. “Keira, don’t do anything foolish.” He threw the letters on the coffee table, his tone carrying a warning. “Fighting a losing battle won’t end well for you. Your sister is the best example.” I suddenly stood up, my chest heaving violently: “I already agreed! Why did you have to destroy everything I had left?” For the first time, Damien’s eyes showed a trace of guilt. His expression was complicated. Suddenly he reached out and pulled me into his arms, apologizing: “I’m sorry, Keira. Don’t do anything foolish. Just live your own life properly.” I broke down crying, tears hitting the floor: “Damien Carter… why are you doing this to me?!” He didn’t answer. The accumulated grievances and anger exploded again. I continued crying and asking him: “Damien Carter! How can you?! How can you destroy everything I have and then tell me to live well?!” He let me hit him, but his arms only tightened around me. “I’m sorry…” he kept repeating. I cried until I was drained of strength, using what little energy I had left to push him away. When he left, he left behind a card. “Let’s end this here. Gwen still has those photos of you. I don’t want her to hurt you again.” “This card — consider it some compensation from me to you and your sister.” I looked at him with a smile and nodded okay. With my sister’s situation still unresolved, how could I possibly let them go? If I really gave up now, wouldn’t that be exactly what they wanted? If I was in pain, they shouldn’t get to be comfortable either. But I didn’t expect they had no intention of letting me go either. The next morning, I went to bring my sister breakfast. Just as I walked out of the community gate, a black sedan suddenly accelerated toward me. The blinding headlights made me unable to open my eyes. I instinctively stepped back but tripped on a step. After being hit by the car, only one thought remained in my mind. I can’t die. In the last second before losing consciousness, I felt someone pick me up. I struggled to open my eyes and saw a face with distinct features. The man’s voice was deep and gentle. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

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When popular actress Ruby’s secret Instagram account was exposed, hundreds of love letters made her the number one trending topic on social media overnight. She wrote: “The man I love became someone else’s husband.” Her fans all felt sorry for her: “You’re so devoted!” “These love letters are so touching! I’m crying!” I was lying in bed scrolling through my phone when I casually commented: “How can someone make falling for another woman’s husband sound so innocent?” One minute later, Frederick’s call came through: “Ruby didn’t do anything wrong. Saying that will cause her trouble.” I froze for a moment, then suddenly laughed. So in a relationship between three people, the extra one had always been me—the wife. The man Ruby couldn’t have in her posts was my husband of nearly three years, Frederick. I opened my mouth, wanting to explain I’d only commented casually. But the words that came out were: “How did you even see it?” Silence on the other end for a few seconds. I suddenly understood. With tens of thousands of comments on the trending topic, Frederick—currently on a business trip abroad—had spotted my account among all those comments at a glance. Not because I was important to him, but because he’d been following Ruby’s every move. He’d even scrolled through every single comment. “Serena, delete the comment first.” Frederick’s tone softened slightly from before. “I’ll handle things with Ruby. You don’t need to worry about it.” I bit my lip. “Sorry. I didn’t know those love letters were written to you. I’ll delete it.” He paused. As if he wanted to say something more, but in the end just hummed in acknowledgment. The call ended. I pulled the phone from my ear and stared at the screen for a few seconds. Frederick had always been gentle and courteous with me. This was the first time he’d confronted me like this. I set my phone face-down on the nightstand and lay back down with my face mask on. Fifteen minutes later, I went to the bathroom to wash my face. The person in the mirror looked normal, except her eyes were a bit red. I leaned in for a closer look. Probably some mask serum had gotten in my eyes. After washing up, I reopened that trending topic. All the posts were titled “Letters to Mr. F.” Documenting Ruby’s years-long obsession with a man. I found my comment, clicked on it, and deleted it. When I exited, the number one trending topic had already changed. “Who Is the Man in Ruby’s Love Letters?” I scrolled past it and closed the app. My phone stayed quiet. It didn’t ring again. I turned off the light and lay back in bed. In the darkness, I suddenly remembered something. The prenuptial agreement between Frederick and me had a three-year term. Only two months remained.

Three years ago, the Ashford family faced a crisis. Stock prices plummeted. Partners withdrew funding one after another. At that time, as the only daughter of the Hayes family, I proposed a marriage alliance. Some said I was taking advantage of their misfortune. Some said the Hayes family was bottom-fishing. What no one knew was that I liked Frederick. Since college. For seven years. To avoid putting pressure on Frederick, I drafted an agreement myself: a marriage term of three years. During those three years, we would cooperate to handle family matters and attend public events together. After three years, if either party proposed divorce, the other must agree unconditionally. This marriage held no benefits for me. I wanted nothing—just a chance to be with him for three years. Later I heard that he apparently had a girlfriend he was deeply in love with at the time. His parents forcibly separated them and made him marry me to save the company. Over these three years, Frederick had been very good to me. Genuinely good. Considerate, gentle, fulfilling his duties as a husband. He would bring me late-night snacks when returning home from business dinners. He would bring me gifts when returning from business trips. He never brushed off any holiday or anniversary. When I was sick, he would stay by my bedside. Even in our intimate life, he was attentive. I thought he was slowly falling for me. Now I understood. He was just fulfilling contractual obligations. As for feelings— Those weren’t in the contract. I turned over, burying my face in the pillow. Before long, the pillow was wet in one spot.

The next evening, Frederick returned from his business trip. I sat in the living room waiting for him. Before he could raise his arms to hug me, I pushed the agreement across. “What’s this?” He was clearly startled, sitting down beside me. “The prenuptial agreement.” “We have two months left until the three-year term expires. But if you’re in a hurry, we can end the contract early.” He frowned. “Serena, what do you mean?” I looked up at him calmly. “I don’t care about your business with Ruby. But I don’t want to stay in this position.” “Before proposing the alliance, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. I’m sorry, but I have no interest in being the one who gets in the way of true love.” Frederick’s expression froze slightly. He reached out to put his arm around me, his tone softer than before. “She and I ended completely long ago. Those love letters were written by her. They have nothing to do with me.” I moved back slightly. His arm froze in midair. “Don’t overthink it,” he said, finally placing his hand on my shoulder and patting it reassuringly. “The three years aren’t up yet. You’re still Mrs. Ashford.” I nodded. “Okay.” He looked at me for a few seconds, stood up, and said he was going to shower. That evening, we ate dinner together. After the meal, we sat together in the media room watching an old movie. During the end credits, we became intimate. Afterward, he carried me to bathe as usual. He let me fall asleep on his arm. I almost doubted again that he liked me. I woke in the middle of the night to find the spot beside me empty. I instinctively looked toward the balcony. The curtains weren’t fully drawn—there was a gap. Through it I could see a figure on the balcony, back turned to me, phone raised. I got out of bed quietly and walked to the door. “…I’ve already handled the trending topic.” His voice drifted in from the balcony, kept very low. “I don’t want this to affect the cooperation between the Ashford and Hayes families.” Silence for a few seconds. “Ruby, what we had is in the past.” I stood behind the curtain, my fingers clenched tight. He listened for a while longer, then said, “Get some sleep.” The call ended. I thought he would come back, but he made another call. “Mr. Johnson, the company needs a global brand ambassador for the new season. Contact Ruby’s agent. Accept whatever conditions they ask for.” I heard the sound of a lighter. A flash of flame—he lit a cigarette. Smoke drifted into the night. His profile was briefly lit by the cigarette’s glow, then darkened again. When we first got married, he occasionally smelled of smoke. I would cough a few times. After that, I never saw him smoke again. I stood behind the curtain watching him smoke one cigarette after another. My feet felt cold. I realized I was standing barefoot on the floor. I tiptoed back to bed, lay down, and closed my eyes.

On the weekend, Frederick had a gathering with friends. I hit traffic and arrived later than planned. The moment before I pushed open the private room door, voices from inside filtered through. “Frederick, if the Hayes family hadn’t taken advantage of the situation back then, you would have married Ruby by now, right?” “You two were doing so well together, forcibly torn apart.” “Exactly.” Another voice chimed in. “Serena’s move was pretty calculated. I heard that when your family had problems, she was the first to jump out proposing a marriage alliance. Who knows if her family was behind it all?” “I’ve wanted to say this for a while—you and Ruby were such a perfect match back then. She still can’t forget you, writing all those love letters. So devoted.” “Serena’s just been taking advantage these three years, when you get down to it.” Laughter, voices agreeing. Then I heard Frederick’s voice. His tone flat, almost cold. “It’s all in the past.” My hand stopped on the door handle. He didn’t deny it. Didn’t say Serena wasn’t that kind of person. Didn’t say she wasn’t scheming. Didn’t say she was his wife. He didn’t even tell them to stop. One dismissive “it’s all in the past.” Drowning three years of marriage and my dignity in their mockery. My nails dug into my palm. It hurt a little. I had looked into Ruby. When the Ashford family was in crisis, she had quickly latched onto a new benefactor. Even I could easily find this out. I didn’t believe Frederick couldn’t. Unless he trusted her completely. I suddenly recalled three years ago. When the Ashford family was in crisis, my family opposed the marriage alliance. They said the Ashford family’s problems were too deep—the Hayes family didn’t need to get involved. I was the one who sold all the properties under my name and mortgaged my shares in Hayes Corporation. I scraped together that money and transferred it to Frederick’s finance department under the guise of working capital. I never told anyone about this. Including him. I thought that was love. Turns out in others’ mouths, it was called taking advantage of someone’s misfortune. The laughter inside continued. I released the handle and stepped back. Before tears could fall, I left the club.

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In my previous life, I spent thirty loving years with my husband, Marcus. When I turned fifty, he suddenly confessed that he had fallen in love with one of his students. I thought it was just a moment of foolishness, so I refused to sign the divorce papers no matter what. When the student failed to take my place, she left the country and soon news came of her marriage. On her wedding day, Marcus was so distraught that he got into a car accident and became disabled. I took care of him at his bedside for fifteen years. Before he died, he grabbed my hand, his voice trembling: “The biggest regret of my life was marrying you. If there’s a next life, I’ll be braver…” Our children blamed their father’s death entirely on me. Later, I became paralyzed too. One was a company CEO, the other an elite returnee from abroad, yet they dumped me in the cheapest nursing home. After I died, they casually scattered my ashes in a filthy ditch, looking relieved: “If it weren’t for you, Dad and Maria would have found happiness long ago. You vicious woman, you never deserved a good ending!” When I woke up again, I had returned to the day Marcus confessed to me.

I started preparing ingredients at six in the morning. I spent the entire day trapped in the kitchen, so exhausted my back was killing me. Marcus was either handling work in his study or tending to his snake plants on the balcony. Ryan, my son, arrived first, carrying a box of premium tea and ten packs of cigarettes. Then he handed me a plastic bag containing some blackened, rotten fruit. “Bought these before New Year’s. Judy said they couldn’t finish them, so she told me to bring them to you.” He said this with a smile, as if he saw nothing wrong with it at all. I said nothing and took the fruit into the kitchen. Soon after, my daughter Lester arrived too. The fish was simmering in the kitchen, and afternoon sunlight flooded the living room. My children sat around their father, chatting about everyday life. In this harmonious scene, I alone felt like an outsider. Soon, the food was served. Ryan raised his glass first: “Dad, I want to toast you! If you hadn’t set such an example, my career wouldn’t be where it is today. You’re not just my father—you’re my greatest mentor!” Lester stood up too. “Dad, without you, our family wouldn’t have the life we have now. I toast you as well.” After emptying their glasses, Lester took a bite of food and frowned. “Mom, the food is too salty.” They all seemed to have forgotten that today was supposed to be my fiftieth birthday celebration. “I have something to say too.” Marcus drained his third glass and set it down heavily on the table, as if he’d made up his mind about something. “Marta, there’s something I have to confess. I’ve fallen for someone else—one of my students.” “We’ve been together for quite some time now. She’s young and insecure. I want to… give her a proper status.” I gripped my fork tightly. Before I could speak, Ryan said excitedly: “Dad, you finally said it! Honestly, not everyone has that kind of courage. No matter what, I support you!” Lester applauded. “Congratulations on your second spring! Come on, let’s toast to this love that transcends age and convention!” The three of them raised their glasses together while I sat in silence, like an outsider. “Mom, you’re killing the mood!” “Yeah, Dad found true love. Shouldn’t you be happy for him?” Their eyes held reproach, as if looking at a petulant child. I stared at the dishes growing cold on the table and suddenly laughed bitterly. Then I pulled a wrinkled divorce agreement from my pocket. “Fine. I’ll give you what you want.”

The air fell into an eerie silence. Marcus hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. His voice couldn’t hide his excitement: “Marta, you’re really willing?” I pushed the agreement toward him, my action serving as my answer. My calmness seemed to unsettle all three of them. Marcus picked up the paper and carefully smoothed it out. I could tell he was satisfied with the property division. Our current house was my premarital property. I was giving up all marital assets. We’d split the savings in half. I had my pension anyway, so I wouldn’t worry about my future. Mainly, I just didn’t want to argue with him anymore. Marcus was about to sign when he noticed my name already there. His pen paused for a moment. Then he quickly scrawled his own name, as if afraid I’d change my mind if he waited even a second longer. Only then did Ryan stand up and pour me my first glass of wine that day. “Mom, that’s more like it. You should look on the bright side. Dad has the right to pursue happiness too.” Lester pestered her father about when they could invite Maria over for dinner. “Maria loves lobster. Make sure you buy several, and remember to pick the fat ones…” I interrupted expressionlessly: “It’s getting late. You should all leave.” I said “you all.” Ryan’s hand froze mid-reach for the food. Lester’s smile instantly stiffened. After the three left, I took out a bottle of Marcus’s treasured wine. I poured myself a glass and drank it down with the table full of dishes. I didn’t feel like cleaning up the table, so I just left it. I went back to my bedroom and lay down. Without the thunderous snoring, without someone constantly getting up during the night, I slept exceptionally well. The next morning, I slept until I woke naturally, then changed into workout clothes and exercised in the park for a while. When I got back, I slowly tidied up, toasted some bread, fried two eggs, and made myself coffee. In my previous life, I had to get up at five every morning to feed bedridden Marcus, change his diapers, bathe him, give him massages… Before I could take a single bite, I’d have to pick up my grandson from school, then go to Lester’s bachelor apartment to clean and cook. In the evening, I’d go home and repeat the whole morning routine. Day after day, with no end in sight. I hadn’t experienced such a leisurely morning in so long. I opened the closet and packed all of Marcus’s things into boxes. After I finished, only a few old, outdated clothes remained in the closet. In my previous life, just because Marcus said: “Marta, I’m a professor. I need to set an example for my students. We must live modestly.” I wore the same down jacket for fifteen years, the same pair of jeans for eight years. But when that student Maria got engaged, he casually gave her $888,000 as a gift. After leaving the package station, I went straight to the mall. For the rest of my days, I didn’t want to shortchange myself anymore. I didn’t expect to run into Maria there, with Ryan and Lester by her side. When they saw me, their smiles stiffened and embarrassment flickered across their faces. But Maria spoke first: “Marta, long time no see. Are you here alone?” “Look at these two kids. I said they didn’t need to come, but they insisted.” “Ryan really splurged on this trip.” I looked at the designer shopping bags Ryan was carrying. Thinking of that bag of rotten fruit, I felt nothing but bitter irony. Maria walked over and took the dress I’d been looking at. “This color suits me perfectly. How much is it? I’ll take it!” “I saw it first,” I said, suppressing my anger. “Mom, such a beautiful dress is wasted on you. Just let Maria have it!” Ryan immediately said. “Exactly. At your age, wearing a dress like this—have you no shame?” Lester’s words were even more cutting than Ryan’s. Maria pretended to mediate: “Don’t say that. Everyone loves beauty. I just think this dress doesn’t suit you. Shop assistant, please wrap it up for me!” “Wait,” I called out. My husband—she could have him. My two children—I could give them up too. But this dress represented my rebirth and transformation. I just didn’t want to let her have it. But just as I was about to pay, Lester suddenly ran over and pushed me. I lost my balance and crashed into a rack of clothes behind me. I’d had surgery on my back before, and now a searing pain shot through it. Ryan took the opportunity to pay for Maria first. He turned around, saw me on the ground, and though a trace of reluctance crossed his eyes, he still said: “Mom, don’t blame us. Who told you to be so foolish as to compete with Maria?” With that, they surrounded Maria and left. In the end, the shop assistant helped me up and asked with concern if I needed to go to the hospital. I saw the panic in her eyes and reassured her I was fine.

Walking out of the mall, I saw the three of them waiting for a car. When they spotted me, Ryan and Lester immediately moved to shield Maria behind them. I ignored them and walked to the curb to hail a taxi. “Marta, Ryan called a driver. Why don’t we all ride together?” Maria invited with a smile. “No need.” “Don’t be so polite…” Maria pretended to pull me along, but leaned close to my ear and whispered: “Did you know? Your children have been calling me Mom for a while now.” “You’re such a failure. Can’t keep your husband, and your children don’t even want you. If I were you, I’d be too ashamed to live.” I looked at that young, delicate face and couldn’t help but raise my hand. Back then, I pitied her poor family situation. I often invited her to eat at our house and privately gave her money. I never imagined she’d repay kindness with betrayal. Now she was even flaunting it in my face. Before my hand could fall, Ryan grabbed it viciously, his grip nearly crushing my bones. “You crazy woman, I knew you had bad intentions!” “Ryan, do you know what she just said to me?” I straightened my back and looked him in the eyes. “She said you’ve both been calling her Mom, and she called me a failure!” My son froze, his expression flickering with complexity. After a long moment, he said coldly: “Was she wrong?” I looked at him in disbelief. “Maria isn’t just young and beautiful—she’s a PhD. You’re nothing but a maid who can only wash clothes and cook. You’re not worthy of being our mother!” Even though I’d completely lost hope in them, when Ryan spoke his true feelings so plainly, my heart still felt like it had been punched. Just then, an out-of-control truck came swaying toward us. In that critical moment, maternal instinct kicked in. I reflexively tried to push Ryan out of the way. But the siblings rushed toward Maria instead, even pushing me hard into the road because they thought I was in the way. The moment I hit the ground, I heard panicked voices: “Mom—” As my consciousness faded, past memories gradually surfaced in my mind. Shortly after giving birth, my husband moved to the study under the pretext of needing to prepare lectures. Back then, he was just an ordinary lecturer. To become an associate professor as quickly as possible, he’d lock himself in the study the moment he got home, barely coming out except to eat and use the bathroom. My mother-in-law Rose had poor health and couldn’t help, so I had to quit my rising career and raise our two children alone. Ryan was mischievous as a child. He got into a fight and nearly blinded another student. To beg for mercy on his behalf, I knelt before the injured student’s parents and kowtowed in apology. As a mother myself, I understood their anger. So when they came at me to beat me, I just knelt there and let them vent. I broke three ribs that way, one nearly piercing my internal organs. But it kept them from pressing charges against Ryan, saving his academic future. Lester had congenital kidney dysfunction. When she was twelve, the doctor suggested a transplant. When Marcus heard, he turned and left, saying it wasn’t worth it for a girl. Without hesitation, I donated my own kidney to her. When they were young, both children were very dependent on me. But at some point, their hearts gradually shifted toward Marcus and his successful career. Though it hurt, I never blamed them. Until one day, I accidentally overheard them talking with Marcus. “Dad, you’ve worked so hard, putting up with that freeloader Mom all these years. If it were me, I couldn’t have stood it.” “Dad, you deserve better. If you want a divorce, Ryan and I will fully support you.” “I wouldn’t recommend divorce though. Without her, who would take care of Dad so wholeheartedly? Besides, maids aren’t cheap these days…” At that moment, my hands and feet went cold, a chill rising from the depths of my heart. So to them, after raising them with such sacrifice, willing to give up everything for them—I was nothing but a free maid.

When I woke up again, I was in the hospital. A young nurse was changing my bandages while complaining: “Those two are really filial. Their mom’s hurt this badly, but they insisted the doctor treat that young woman first, and she just had a few scratches.” “Honestly, if I had children like that, I’d have cut ties with them long ago. What trash…” Seeing I was awake, another nurse quickly nudged her. The speaking nurse’s face went pale as she apologized profusely. But I smiled weakly. “It’s okay. You’re not wrong.” She froze in surprise. Many things were clearer to outsiders than to me. A week later, I checked myself out of the hospital. As I was about to hail a taxi, I suddenly received a call from Ryan. His voice was angry: “Mom, Judy told me you haven’t picked up Bobby for a whole week.” “Judy has work too. The household is falling apart, and you’re the only one out there slacking off. Have you no shame?” “I’m giving you two hours. If you’re not back, there will be consequences!” He hung up. Then Lester’s message popped up: [Mom, how long are you going to keep slacking off? My apartment’s a pigsty now! Come clean it up right away. And I want porridge!] Taxis were hard to get at the hospital entrance. Standing in the cold wind, I hesitated for a moment, then dialed that number. The call connected quickly. A man’s voice, somewhat aged but tinged with excitement, came through: “Marta, I’ve been waiting for this call for so long.” My nose tingled. “Alex, I’ve made up my mind. Come pick me up.” “Alright. Send me the address.” Minutes later, a luxury car pulled up in front of me… A uniformed driver got out and personally opened the door for me. Inside sat a familiar yet unfamiliar face. Looking at him, I couldn’t help choking up: “Alex…” “It’s okay.” He patted my hand, his voice low. “Now that you’ve made your decision, you can’t soften your heart anymore.” I nodded. “I won’t.” Never again.

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On New Year’s Day, my tenant Terry suddenly sent me a TikTok video. The title was “New Year’s Landlord Rent Reduction Contest.” I was about to tell him that next month’s rent would be completely waived when he sent another message: “Did you fucking see my message or not? Just so you know, I’m only paying a hundred next month!” Seeing his terrible attitude, I angrily replied: “You don’t need to pay next month’s rent. Just get out this month.” That evening when my wife Chloe came home, she brought Terry with her. His arm was intimately wrapped around Chloe’s slim waist. “If you won’t rent the house to me, then I’ll just have to move into your place.” The atmosphere instantly became awkward. The door behind them was still open, with luggage blocking the entrance completely. I looked at Chloe. “What’s the meaning of this?” She leaned against Terry, arms crossed, and immediately started interrogating me. “What right do you have to refuse to rent the house to Terry?” I laughed coldly. “What right?” “That house normally rents for twenty thousand. I only charged him two hundred out of consideration for you. And he still wanted to haggle!” Houses in that neighborhood were extremely popular and had no shortage of renters. Back then, I had already found a tenant and signed the contract, but Chloe came up and tore up the contract on the spot, breaking the agreement. “I have a friend coming to Brooklyn. We grew up together.” “Save this house for him.” “Just charge him two hundred a month for rent to make it look good. Don’t make things difficult for me.” She threw out a few sentences and left in a huff, leaving me and the prospective tenant staring at each other awkwardly. In the end, I had to apologize profusely with a forced smile, compensating them with two months’ rent before the matter was finally settled. Chloe frowned at my words. “Alexander, when did you become so petty?” “I was planning not to charge anything at all. To make you feel better, I specifically had Terry give you two hundred every month. What more do you want?” A house with an annual rent of two hundred forty thousand became an annual rent of two thousand four hundred, and Chloe still thought I was stingy. I suddenly had nothing to say. Moreover, the things she took from our home to give Terry every month were worth far more than two hundred. Holiday gifts from her company, shopping cards from my company, even the fruits and home-cooked meals my mom sometimes brought over—she would pack everything up and take it to Terry. The New Year’s clothes I bought online yesterday—I never even saw them before she eagerly grabbed them and left. “Terry’s all alone in this city. It’s not easy. We should help him as much as we can.” “You’re a grown man. Don’t be so petty.” “We’re all from the same hometown. If I don’t help him out, people back home will gossip about me.” For the sake of Chloe’s reputation, I had endured it all before. But today, Terry’s arrogant attitude completely ignited the anger I’d been suppressing for so long. My attitude remained cold and hard. “Move in? Impossible.” “In this house, it’s either me or him. It can’t be both!” Seeing this, Terry tugged at Chloe’s sleeve with a wronged expression. “Chloe, I should just leave. Worst case, I’ll find some random place to stay tonight.” Fake sympathy. It made me sick. “Leave? Why should you leave!” Chloe pushed me aside forcefully and led him straight to the guest room. Though Terry kept his head down, the smugness in his eyes as he passed me was impossible to hide. After settling him in, she finally came over to me. “Stop making a fuss. It’s just for one night.” “Tomorrow I’ll take him to look at other places.” “You wouldn’t let him live in the south side place, and Terry obediently didn’t insist. Did I say anything about that?” I clenched my fist, opened my mouth, but ultimately said nothing, telling myself to endure it for just one more night. The next morning, I received a call from the property management.

“Is this Mr. Alexander?” My heart suddenly lurched. “Yes, it’s me.” “Could you please come over? Your house seems to be leaking and has flooded the downstairs residents.” “We can’t reach your tenant and have no way to open the door.” That completely woke me up. I hastily got dressed and rushed to the rental property. A crowd had already gathered at the door. Seeing me, someone angrily approached. “You’re the landlord here, right?” I nodded. “What’s going on with your place? My ceiling started leaking last night, and this morning when I woke up, there was a layer of water on my floor!” “We knocked but no one opened! We called out but no one answered!” I quickly took out my key and opened the door. As soon as I pushed it open, a foul stench hit me in the face. I couldn’t help but bend over and dry heave several times. The onlookers outside also covered their noses. “What’s going on here?” “How did they trash the place this badly?” The bright floor was covered with garbage mixed with unknown stains, floating on the water’s surface. There wasn’t even a place to step. The walls were painted over with black paint, and even the bedroom bed was piled high with takeout boxes. Grease had soaked through the mattress, giving off a nauseating smell. I followed the sound to the bathroom and found the sink faucet turned to maximum, water gushing out. Seeing all this, the downstairs residents’ faces darkened. It was obvious this accident was deliberately caused by someone. She waved her hand in front of her nose, her brow tightly furrowed. “Alexander, next time you rent out the house, you need to screen tenants more carefully.” “Your tenant kept making noise late at night. My husband has a bad heart and often couldn’t sleep.” “Property management reminded him several times, and we talked to him too. Who knew he not only wouldn’t listen but got even worse!” Several other households chimed in, their faces showing disgust, clearly having suffered greatly. Someone lowered their voice. “You should disinfect this house. I’ve seen that young man bring different people home. Who knows if he has any diseases!” I nodded, suppressing my anger. No wonder Terry had moved out without a second word—he’d left me such a huge mess. The downstairs resident grabbed my arm. “You have to compensate us for our losses!” I nodded repeatedly in agreement, having already cursed Terry a thousand times in my mind. After settling the compensation with the downstairs residents and contacting someone to handle the house, I called Chloe. The phone rang for a long time before going to voicemail. I called Terry’s number, but again, no one answered. The fire in my heart burned hotter and hotter. I drove straight home. Standing at the door, I could hear chaotic noise inside, as noisy as if there were a flock of ducks. I forcefully pulled open the door, and everyone inside instantly looked up at me. The originally tidy living room looked like a typhoon had hit it, utterly chaotic. Several burlap sacks were piled on the floor, muddy water seeping out from them, tracked into messy footprints. Besides Chloe and Terry, there were several people I didn’t recognize. “Who are you?” An old woman with her hands on her hips demanded, eyebrows raised, face full of aggression, saliva spraying onto my face. “Is there no law anymore? How dare you barge into someone else’s house in broad daylight?” “Terry, hurry up and throw him out!” A huge sense of absurdity washed over me. I ignored Chloe’s winking signals and said coldly. “This is my home. Who are you?” “If you don’t get out now, don’t blame me for calling the police.”

“Alexander!” Chloe shouted coldly, her voice so loud it completely drowned out mine. She grabbed my arm and yanked me outside, closing the door partway so the people inside couldn’t hear us. “Terry’s parents came today. To put their minds at ease, I told them this house was bought by Terry with his own money.” “Watch what you say. Don’t let it slip!” I forcefully shook off her arm. “When did my house become his?” “Yesterday you clearly said he’d only stay one night, but now look—the whole family’s moved in!” “And the house he was living in before…” Before I could finish, a domineering voice interrupted. “Chloe, who’s this? You know him?” It was Terry’s mother. She leaned against the door, eyes narrowed, looking me up and down. Chloe pulled me behind her, her hand viciously pinching the flesh on my arm. I couldn’t help but hiss in pain. “This is my husband, Alexander.” “He heard you were coming today and came specially to see you.” I started to say something but Chloe immediately covered my mouth. Terry’s mother looked at my empty hands with complete disdain on her face. “Coming without bringing anything, empty-handed. No manners.” “Chloe, I’m not criticizing you, but if you’d chosen our Terry back then, you’d be living in a big house by now.” I struggled hard to break free from Chloe’s grip and immediately shouted. “This is MY house. All of you get out now!” “What!” Terry’s mother’s eyes widened instantly. “Pfft!” She spat viciously at me and pushed hard on my chest. “Did you fall and hit your head walking around without watching? What kind of poor wretch is so eager to claim a house?” “Terry said this is the house he worked hard to buy. You think I’m stupid?” “Right, Chloe?” Chloe stood behind her and glared at me angrily, her tone full of disappointment. “Alexander, stop making a scene. No matter how much you want a house, you can’t steal someone else’s.” “Go home. Stop embarrassing yourself here!” Chloe’s protective words slapped me in the face like repeated blows. “Mom, Chloe, come eat.” Terry suddenly appeared at the door. Wearing my pajamas, holding a spatula, he looked exactly like the master of the house. Seeing me, his face didn’t even flash a hint of guilt. “Alexander, you’re here too. Perfect. Come in and eat with us.” I laughed coldly, thinking Terry’s face was thicker than a city wall. Knowing it was useless to argue with these people, I took out my phone. Just as I pressed 9-1, my phone was slapped away by a strong force. The screen landed face-down and bounced a few times, instantly covered with spider-web cracks, though the screen was still lit. I bent down to pick it up, but Chloe stepped hard on the back of my hand and ground her foot. Glass shards embedded into my palm, and a sharp pain instantly shot through me. “Ah!” I cried out in pain, veins bulging on my neck.

“Chloe!” I stared at her with reddened eyes. She snorted coldly and kicked the phone far away. After multiple impacts, the screen went completely black and was utterly unusable. Only then did Chloe lift her foot off my hand. She crouched down and lowered her voice in my ear. “It’s not like we’re not giving the house back to you.” “Just go find some random place to stay for now. In a couple days when they leave, I’ll let you know to come back.” I never thought she would go this far for Terry, completely disregarding our marriage. Terry’s mother took the opportunity to kick me while I was down. “Chloe, this man has no money and no looks.” “Why don’t you divorce him and be with Terry? I won’t mind.” As she spoke, she took Chloe’s hand and placed it gently in Terry’s right in front of me. Terry laughed and pushed his mother playfully. Chloe blushed but didn’t refuse. Blood from my hand dripped onto the floor drop by drop, but Chloe never gave me a single glance. I took a deep breath, my heart already completely dead. “Chloe, let’s get divorced.” Hearing this, she finally reacted, but her first words were still blame. “Alexander, don’t be childish. I was just joking around.” “You’re a grown man. Why make such a big deal of this?” “Terry’s relatives are all here today. Don’t spoil the mood!” Her eyes held disgust and disdain, but not a trace of love. Smugness flashed in Terry’s eyes as he reached out to pull Chloe by the waist, ushering the two of them back inside. “Forget about him. Let’s go eat.” “Chloe, I made your favorite dish. You have to try it later.” Hearing this, Chloe smiled and helped Terry’s mother back into the house. The door slammed shut in my face, completely shutting me out. Laughter and cheerful voices came from inside. “Who was that outside?” “Some unimportant person. Don’t worry about him.” “Everyone eat and drink as you like. Make yourselves at home. Don’t be shy!” How ridiculous. It was my house, yet now I was being shut out by a group of strangers. I clenched my fist, turned around, and knocked on my neighbor’s door. It opened quickly. The neighbor looked at me in surprise. “Alexander, what happened to you?” I smiled bitterly. “Can I borrow your phone to call the police?”

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At the class reunion, our former teacher, Mr. Wallace, suddenly asked everyone about their relationship status. He first asked Madison Taylor, the prettiest girl in our class: “Back then, to help you all focus on your studies, I deliberately confiscated the love letter you wrote to Evan Pierce. Do you still resent me for that?” Madison’s eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed tenderly at my husband, Evan Pierce, then shook her head. Mr. Wallace then turned to Evan: “If you could turn back time, would you accept Madison’s confession and make up for that missed opportunity?” Without hesitation, Evan said: “I would.” Everyone started cheering. “You two are truly meant for each other!” I looked down at the cheap wedding ring on my finger. Just yesterday, we had celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary. Evan had told me he would never betray me in this lifetime. Now it seemed I was the only one who had taken him seriously. Having gotten the answer he wanted, Mr. Wallace’s smile relaxed. He raised his glass with a sigh: “Back then, to avoid affecting your college entrance exams, I had to be the bad guy and keep you two apart.” “But now knowing you still have a chance, I feel much better.” Good-natured laughter filled the private room. The class president took the lead: “Mr. Wallace, we all understand your intentions. Besides, the lovebirds didn’t miss their chance—sometimes fate just takes its time. Maybe this reunion is the perfect opportunity. Right, Evan?” Evan smiled without responding, as if in agreement. Madison’s face turned even redder as she practically buried herself under the table. Only I stared at my glass, my eyes unfocused. Because back in high school, the person dating Evan was me. Madison had only written him a love letter. But everyone believed that Madison was the one who should be with Evan. Even Evan had hidden the ring on his finger. Suddenly, Madison looked at me and said apologetically: “Mia, could you switch seats with me? I’d like to sit next to Evan.” The chatter in the room died down as everyone turned to look at me. The class president laughed first: “Oh, can’t wait already, Madison?” He pointed at me with a hint of suggestion and urging. “Come on, Mia, I’ve got a seat here. Switch over and don’t get in the way of their quality time.” Another round of laughter. Madison bit her lower lip, looking at me expectantly. I looked at Evan. “Should I switch?” I asked softly. Evan didn’t look at me—as if deliberately avoiding my gaze, or perhaps not wanting others to notice our connection. He gave an almost imperceptible nod. He wanted me to switch. I picked up my glass and drained it in one gulp. Then I set down the glass, pushed back my chair, stood up, and sat down next to the class president. Each movement was as precise as a robot’s. Madison smiled at me gratefully and happily took the seat next to Evan. Someone spoke up suggestively: “Look at them—don’t they look just like when they secretly took their graduation photo together?” I froze, almost forgetting to mask my expression. “They really do,” the athletics rep said with a laugh, slinging his arm around someone’s shoulders. “Back during graduation photos, only Evan and Madison got special treatment. They said they didn’t want to take photos with unimportant people, so they specifically asked me to excuse them. I remember Mia even asked me where Evan was.” “In the end, I made up some excuse about Evan spraining his ankle to cover for them.” “Evan, is that photo of you and Madison still your profile background?” Evan’s profile background hadn’t changed since graduation year. Two figures in school uniforms, seen from behind. He had told me it was a stock photo he found online to make up for not taking graduation photos. Turns out, it was him and Madison. I lowered my head and looked at the ring on my finger. Under the light, it hurt my eyes. “Oh, right,” Mr. Wallace suddenly turned to me with a caring smile, “I almost forgot to ask you, Mia. You were always so introverted in school and rarely came to our reunions. Are you married now?” The room fell silent for a moment. Evan’s hand froze mid-air as he stared directly at me. That look was filled with anxiety and warning. Then someone kicked my shin. The cold leather of the shoe touched my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I didn’t need to guess who it was. After five years of marriage, the last time I’d seen Evan this flustered was when we met each other’s parents before our wedding. He was afraid I’d embarrass him in front of his parents, so he had specifically set up secret signals to tell me when to shut up. I didn’t look down, nor did I look at Evan. I smiled at Mr. Wallace: “I am married, but… we’ll be divorced soon.” Across the table, Evan’s body went rigid.

The smile froze on Mr. Wallace’s face. After a moment, he stammered an apology: “I’m sorry, Mia. I didn’t mean to bring up something painful.” “But… why divorce?” He frowned, habitually adopting the tone he used to counsel students: “Marriage is a serious matter. It’s not easy for two people to be together. If there are problems that can be resolved, you should try to work through them. Don’t act rashly out of anger…” “I’m not acting out of anger.” I smiled at him, my voice just loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. “His heart belongs to someone else. There’s no point. Might as well end it.” I smiled. Mr. Wallace’s words caught in his throat. He nodded awkwardly: “Well… I suppose you should divorce then…” Madison rested her head on Evan’s shoulder, her smile unchanged: “Oh, I see. I thought it was…” “Thought what?” The athletics rep, drunk, instinctively probed. Madison glanced at me with an ambiguous look, mumbling: “Nothing, just thought Mia was still being delusional…” Delusional. That had been the entire class’s unanimous assessment of me throughout high school. Because I was just an ordinary girl—ordinary family background, ordinary grades, ordinary looks—yet I delusionally liked Evan Pierce. Meanwhile, the genius student and the gentle school beauty were everyone’s ideal couple. I wasn’t as pretty as Madison, so I didn’t deserve to like Evan. So even though Evan and I had known each other since childhood. Even though Evan had allowed me to stay by his side. Even though back then, Madison and Evan weren’t together—I was Evan’s actual girlfriend. None of that mattered. They all thought I was delusional. And Evan remained the same as always. Eyes on his nose, nose on his heart. Too lazy to even say “Mia is my girlfriend.” “Come on, let’s not bring up the past. Mia’s already married,” the class president coughed lightly, changing the subject. “Mia, good men are everywhere. I know a few suitable guys. Give me your phone—I’ll introduce you.” The class president moved closer with enthusiasm. “Enough—” Evan suddenly kicked the table, a smile on his lips: “She’s not officially divorced yet. Wait until then.” “Evan’s right. Wait until she’s divorced.” “What if her husband finds out and comes after you? Haha.” Everyone joined in the teasing. The class president caught on and downed a drink as self-punishment. “Alright, alright, my bad. Mia, just let me know when you need help. We’re all old classmates—don’t be shy.” I murmured agreement with a smile. From the corner of my eye, I saw Madison take out hand cream and say something to Evan. Evan’s eyes crinkled as he squeezed a thick dollop onto his own hands. The scent was strong—I could smell the gardenia fragrance even from across the table. The old Evan hated artificial fragrances. Because of this, in all our years of marriage, I never used hand cream, and even carefully selected unscented body wash. Turns out he didn’t hate fragrances. He just didn’t like me using them.

For the rest of the evening, Evan and I had a tacit understanding. I chatted with the class president about old times. He and Madison were inseparable, whispering things only they could hear. We didn’t disturb each other, distant as strangers with no connection. Even when leaving, we went separately. I grabbed my bag and left the private room first. Evan had driven, so he went to the parking garage first and brought the car to the hotel entrance. Classmates trickled away. Evan opened the car door and carefully helped the tipsy Madison into the vehicle. The entire time, he didn’t glance at me once. The class president was supporting the drunk Mr. Wallace. Seeing me staring at Evan’s car, he laughed: “Mia, stop looking. Evan’s always been particular—he won’t even look at people he doesn’t like. I drove here too. I’ll give you a ride later.” The class president meant well, so naturally I didn’t refuse. I nodded and followed him to his car. Outside the window, streetlights lit up one by one, casting dim yellow circles on the asphalt like abandoned periods marking the end of sentences. The class president turned down the AC and asked softly, “Cold?” I shook my head, but my gaze followed the hotel’s shrinking silhouette in the rearview mirror. Suddenly I remembered the years I’d spent helping Evan build his business from nothing. We’d lived in a basement apartment, splitting ten-dollar takeout meals between us. The ring on my hand was from that time. From a street vendor. Sixty-eight dollars. He said he’d use this ring to forever remember the hardships I endured with him. I remembered how, after making it big, he drove his new car and took me to the beach, promising: “From now on, you’re the only one who’ll ever sit in my passenger seat.” And yesterday, on our fifth anniversary, he’d said apologetically: “Mia, I’ve been unfair to you all these years. I’ll never let you down in this lifetime.” Now it seemed he’d forgotten. Only I had taken him seriously. My phone suddenly buzzed—a message from Evan. [Good job tonight, but the divorce excuse was too frivolous. Don’t use it again.] I laughed and exited our chat. Of course I knew divorce wasn’t frivolous. But he didn’t know I was serious.

When I got home, I tossed my bag on the floor and sighed deeply before washing up. Two hours passed. Evan still wasn’t home. Out of habit, I picked up my phone to ask where he was. Opening the chat, I realized it wasn’t hard to guess. Late at night, a man and woman alone—what might happen wasn’t hard to imagine. Just like in our five years of marriage, Evan treated me well in every way. Except he refused to acknowledge our marriage in front of classmates, refused to tell them I was his wife. The reason wasn’t hard to guess either. I opened my photo gallery to a hidden album containing a screenshot from Evan’s phone. On our wedding night, Evan was distracted, standing on the balcony with his phone for a long time. He said he had wedding jitters, but I knew. He was looking at Madison’s social media. I’d secretly taken that screenshot that night. He wrote: “When are you coming back?” She replied: “Give me another five years.” This year marked exactly five years. I touched the photo with my finger, then deleted it. I removed the wedding ring I’d treasured for five years and placed it on the bathroom counter. I scheduled an appointment with a divorce attorney my friend had recommended, turned off my phone, and went to sleep. That night, I slept restlessly. In my dreams, I kept remembering high school—Evan and I secretly sharing earbuds to listen to music, hiding from Mr. Wallace. And the moment of shock and delight in his eyes when he received Madison’s love letter. Tears fell onto my pillowcase. The next morning, I put on makeup and changed into the blue dress from my closet. Evan didn’t like blue, so I’d never worn this dress after buying it. As I was about to leave, Evan came home. Seeing the blue dress, he paused: “Madison had too much to drink last night. She was alone, and I was worried something might happen, so I slept on her couch.” I looked up at him, somewhat surprised. I hadn’t expected him to explain. Evan took off his jacket and approached me, his tone casual: “Why’d you dig out this dress? Didn’t you used to dislike blue?” I walked past him and changed my shoes. “I’ve always liked it. You just never knew.” Evan watched me, the ease in his eyes fading. “What’s wrong?” “Why are you so angry this early?” “You were never like this before.” My movement paused for a moment. Before, I wasn’t like this because I hadn’t completely lost hope. Now, things were different. “Look, stop being mad. What happened yesterday wasn’t intentional. You know Madison—she’s sensitive. If I hadn’t responded, she would’ve felt terrible.” “I’ll make it up to you. How about we travel somewhere next week? The Maldives? I saw it on Madison’s feed…” “Evan.” I interrupted him. He froze slightly, a rare confusion in his eyes. I looked at him and said softly: “We…” Before I could finish, Evan suddenly grabbed my hand and demanded: “Your ring? Where’s your ring?!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “373612”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance