Evan Grant has always had a “first love.” After giving birth to his son, she disappeared, leaving him behind with an incomplete family. To give his son a sense of normalcy, Evan found me—a woman who bore a slight resemblance to her. For three years, I played the role of the perfect woman for their little family: Gentle, kind, resourceful, and most importantly, emotionally stable. But everything changed the day I went to pick up his son from school and overheard something. Miles proudly told his classmates that I was just the nanny and that his real mom was coming back soon. It was Friday, which was supposed to be Evan’s day to pick up Miles from school. Every Friday was their father-son bonding time. Without fail, Evan would take him to a family-friendly restaurant for dinner, a tradition they’d kept for three years. But today, Evan called me last minute to say he had to leave for a business trip—and that I needed to pick Miles up instead. I rushed from the hospital to the preschool. When I arrived, the classroom was nearly empty, with only a few kids left waiting for their parents. Miles was surrounded by a small group of children, all of them admiring the charm bracelet on his wrist. “Wow, Miles, your bracelet is so pretty!” “Where did you get it? I’m going to ask my mom to buy me one too!” Miles puffed out his chest, looking smug. “My mom designed this just for me. You can’t buy it anywhere.” “Wow, your mom is amazing!” “She makes cupcakes and designs jewelry? I wish she were my mom too.” “I want your mom! My mom is so mean.” Under normal circumstances, I was the one who picked up Miles from school. He was more mature than most kids his age, but that also made him a bit withdrawn. To help him make friends, I often brought homemade treats for him to share with his classmates. This little gesture worked wonders—Miles became the most popular kid in his class. Everyone assumed I was his mom, even though he never once called me that. I smiled faintly from the doorway. The cupcakes? Yes, those were my handiwork. The bracelet? Absolutely not. I quietly stepped back, not wanting to interrupt. Sure enough, just as I expected, Miles’ voice—still soft but dripping with disdain—broke through the chatter: “She’s not my mom!” “She’s just my nanny.” “My real mom is a jewelry designer, and she’s awesome!” The kids gasped in unison, their admiration for Miles’ “real mom” growing louder as they bombarded him with questions. I stood at the back door, watching Miles beam as he talked about his mom. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel much of anything. In a way, he wasn’t wrong. Sure, his words were a bit harsh, but they weren’t entirely untrue. From the moment I married Evan, caring for him and Miles had become my only job. And while it was true that my duties often resembled those of a nanny, I wasn’t just any nanny—I was Evan’s legal wife. Technically speaking, I was Miles’ stepmother, not his babysitter. Miles was the son of Evan Grant and the brilliant jewelry designer Mina Scott. But Mina disappeared shortly after giving birth, leaving no legal ties between her and Evan. As Miles grew older, Evan began to notice the cracks in their little family. So, he started looking for a stepmother for Miles, someone who could give him a “complete” home. That’s where I came in. Out of all the candidates, I stood out because I looked just enough like Mina—maybe a 30% resemblance. The day I entered their lives, Miles knew I wasn’t his real mom. And I never intended to replace her. After all, Evan and I had a clear agreement: We were in a contract marriage. Three years, that was all. For those three years, Evan got a stand-in wife. Miles got a stepmother. And I got $3 million. I couldn’t say no. I needed the money—desperately. On the way home, I acted like I hadn’t heard a thing. I chatted with Miles as usual, asking him what he wanted for dinner. I’ve always known my place—I only take what I’m meant to take. Anything outside of that? I don’t concern myself with it. Miles, with his little serious face, rattled off a few dishes. I noticed him swallowing hard, trying to hide his excitement. I had to bite back a laugh. Say what you will, but my cooking skills are top-notch. Over the past three years, both Evan and Miles have filled out quite nicely. When we got home, Miles immediately locked himself in his room. I didn’t pay him any mind and headed straight to the kitchen to start cooking. Once the three dishes and a soup were ready, I went to call him for dinner. But as I raised my hand to knock, I heard laughter from inside his room. Miles was on a video call. Since he had the speakerphone on, I could hear everything clearly. There was Evan’s voice, and then… a woman’s voice. She called Miles “sweetheart,” and he excitedly called her “mom.” Miles was practically buzzing with joy as he told her how all his classmates envied his bracelet. At first, I thought Evan had bought the bracelet for him, just like he had done before to cheer him up. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Even though Mina had been gone for years, Evan had always made an effort to keep her presence alive for Miles—just in case she ever came back. But now, hearing this, it seemed the bracelet really was Mina’s design. After six long years, Evan had finally found her. This “business trip” of his? It was clearly a mission of love. How romantic. Not wanting to interrupt their little family reunion, I quietly returned to the dining table and distracted myself with my phone. When I heard Miles hang up, I knocked on his door and called him to eat. After dinner, I started cleaning up while Miles lingered at the table, looking like he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to. Miles is practically a miniature version of Evan—handsome and refined, with an air of quiet confidence. His eyes, though, are even more striking. Maybe it’s because they’re so pure, so unguarded. They remind me of a pair of eyes I used to know, though they’re not quite the same. Leaning against the table, I smiled and asked, “Do you have something you want to tell me?” Miles pressed his lips together, hesitated for a moment, then shook his head and headed back to his room. I didn’t take it personally, nor did I care to press further. My job is simple: make sure he’s fed, clothed, and taken care of. Anything beyond that? Not my business, and not something I can control. Later that night, I wrapped myself in a blanket and sat on the couch, bawling my eyes out over a movie. When Evan came home, that’s exactly how he found me—face blotchy and swollen from crying. He looked shocked, and I felt embarrassed. I scrambled to stand up, my voice thick with congestion as I blurted out, “Why are you back so early?” He walked over, his gaze soft and steady, and even his tone was unusually gentle. “Why are you still up so late?” I pointed at the TV. “Watching a movie.” He studied me for a moment, sighed quietly, and reached out as if to pat my head. Before I could pull away, his phone rang. The caller ID said “Mina.” He stepped onto the balcony to take the call, while I slipped away into the kitchen to give him privacy. When he finished, I came back out. “Evan, let’s finalize the divorce next week.” Mina was back, and the timing couldn’t have been better—our agreement was almost up anyway. I thought Evan would agree without hesitation. After all, I’d served my purpose, and now that his true love had returned, my role as a stand-in was no longer necessary. But instead, his expression turned cold. “You’re in such a rush to get divorced?” “I’m busy next week.” With that, he walked away, heading straight for Miles’ room, leaving me standing there, completely bewildered. Evan and I may technically be husband and wife, but in reality, our relationship is more like a business arrangement. He pays, I work—it’s as simple as that. Now that the contract is about to expire and he’s reunited with the woman he’s been searching for all these years, shouldn’t we both be happy to part ways? So why is he acting like this? Evan spent the entire weekend working overtime at the office, leaving early and coming home late. I didn’t get another chance to bring up the divorce. On Monday morning, he handed me a small box out of nowhere, saying it was something he’d picked up at an auction. I was busy getting Miles ready for school, so I just tossed it into my bag without a second thought. As usual, I brought some homemade cupcakes for the kids at the preschool. They crowded around me, their sweet little voices ringing out, “Thank you, Auntie!” Miles stood off to the side, watching me quietly. After a moment, he slipped past the other kids and headed into the classroom without a word. Once I dropped him off, I had the driver take me to the hospital. When I got to the room, Sophia was by the window, practicing tai chi. She smiled when she saw me. “What’s on the menu today?” I held up the thermos in my hand. “Your favorite—chicken and mushroom porridge.” We sat on the bed, each with a bowl in hand, eating together. I pulled out my phone, opened the photo gallery, and handed it to her. “This is our house in Windmere. I had someone clean it up already.” “When you’re discharged next week, take Ayden there first, see if there’s anything else we need to add. Once I’m done here, I’ll join you both.” Sophia looked through the photos but didn’t say anything, just nodded quietly. I held my bowl and turned to look out the window. Through the glass, the sky was a brilliant blue. Fluffy clouds floated lazily in the breeze, and willow branches swayed gently in the wind. “Celia, we’ve been such a burden on you,” Sophia said softly. I kept my eyes on the clouds and replied, “Sophia, do you think Ayden would’ve liked that little house?” She froze for a moment, then her gaze softened, a faint smile spreading across her face. “He would’ve loved it. My brother adored windy places.” I smiled too. “That’s good to hear.” Sophia didn’t say anything else, just let out a quiet sigh. We sat there together, watching the clouds drift by, the trees swaying, and the sunlight shifting. On the bench outside, a mother and daughter were replaced by a couple, and later, by an elderly man sitting alone. People come and go in life, just like that—always in a hurry. I broke the silence. “Sophia, there’s no need for us to talk about being a burden.” “Without you and Ayden, there wouldn’t be a Celia in this world.” “We’ve been a family for ten years. That hasn’t changed.” In the afternoon, after finishing some grocery shopping, I went to pick Miles up from school. But when I got there, the teacher told me he had been picked up earlier in the day. She said he’d left with his mom and dad. Back in the car, I debated whether to call Evan to confirm. It was most likely him and Mina who picked Miles up, but when it comes to kids, it’s always better to be cautious. Just as I was about to dial his number, I noticed a notification on my phone—it was from Evan’s social media account. He had just posted something five minutes ago. I opened it. It was a nine-photo collage. The center photo was a shot of the three of them—Evan, Mina, and Miles—smiling brightly on a beach, all dressed in matching family outfits. Miles looked genuinely happy, the kind of carefree joy I hadn’t seen in him in three years. For once, even Evan was wearing something colorful. Standing next to Mina, his usual stern demeanor seemed to melt away, replaced by a softer, more relaxed expression. They looked like the perfect family. Since the post had already confirmed everything for me, there was no need to call. With Evan and Miles gone for a few days, I treated it as a mini vacation. Every day, I cooked meals and brought them to the hospital to eat with Sophia. We’d take walks together, browse the shops nearby, and enjoy the slow, peaceful days. It was a rare bit of leisure. I got Evan’s call in the middle of the night. I had already fallen asleep but was jolted awake by the ringing of my phone. On the other end, Evan’s voice sounded exhausted, and I could hear Miles crying in the background. “Celia, can you come to the children’s hospital?” He explained that Miles hadn’t been sleeping well these past few days, and after spending time in the sea breeze, he suddenly developed a high fever. Now they were at the hospital, but Miles was inconsolable and refusing to cooperate. I glanced at the pitch-black night outside, got up, and started getting dressed. Miles had always been a restless sleeper. When I first came into Evan’s life, Miles would often wake up crying in the middle of the night, and I’d spend hours holding him, singing lullabies to calm him down. He’d gotten much better in the past two years, but he still had his quirks. If he ever had to sleep somewhere unfamiliar, he needed his favorite pillow, bedsheets, and pajamas—otherwise, he wouldn’t sleep well. Whenever Miles traveled with his grandparents, I always packed these things for him in advance. Because I’d always handled it, Evan didn’t know about any of this. As I approached the hospital room, I could already hear Miles’ cries echoing down the hallway. His voice was hoarse from all the crying. I had expected Mina to be there, but when I walked in, it was just Evan and Miles. Evan’s tense expression relaxed slightly when he saw me. “You’re here,” he said, relief evident in his voice. On the hospital bed, Miles’ small face was flushed bright red—whether from the fever or from crying, I couldn’t tell. I told Evan to pick him up. While he held the child, I quickly replaced the hospital bed’s sheets, pillowcase, and blanket with the ones I had brought, then changed Miles into his familiar pajamas. I lay down beside Miles on the bed, holding him close and humming softly until his cries subsided. Gradually, he calmed down, curling up in my arms and clutching the edge of my shirt. Softly, he murmured, “Mommy.” I stroked his feverish cheek, sighing to myself. He was clearly delirious from the fever. I wasn’t his mom. I was just the nanny. After all the chaos, Miles finally fell into a peaceful sleep. The nurse was able to administer the shot without any trouble, and I joined Evan on the sofa to rest. Evan handed me a glass of water and rubbed his temples. “Sorry for disturbing you so late,” he said. I shook my head. “It’s fine. This is part of my job,” I replied. “Next time you take him somewhere, just remember to pack his pillow, pajamas, and bedsheets. It’ll make things easier.” Evan looked at me for a moment before asking, “Have you opened the little box I gave you the other day?” “No, not yet. Is it something important?” I reached for my bag on the other side of the sofa and pulled out the small box. When I opened it, I found a diamond ring inside. Before I could react, Evan covered my hand with his. “Celia,” he said softly, “don’t divorce me, okay?” I didn’t know what happened between Evan and Mina that made him willing to let go of someone he had waited six years for and turn to me with a marriage proposal. But I knew one thing for sure—it wasn’t because he loved me. Evan is the kind of man who’s terrifyingly rational and self-disciplined. Every decision he makes is calculated, weighed carefully to ensure it’s the most logical and beneficial choice. I had no interest in figuring out his motives. I’ve never been one to waste energy on things that don’t matter. I pulled my hand away from his and placed the ring on the coffee table. “Evan, we’re just contract partners. The agreement has expired. It’s time for us to end this.” He sat beside me, as if he hadn’t heard a word I said. Instead, he started explaining. “Celia, if this is about Mina, you don’t have to worry.” “It’s over between us. The only reason I saw her was because she wanted to spend time with Miles. There won’t be any contact between us moving forward.” He paused, then added, “These past few years, having you around has been comforting. Miles relies on you so much. Isn’t this life… good enough?” I looked at Evan, my expression calm. “No, it’s not.” “I don’t know or care what’s going on between you and Mina, but there’s no chance for us.” The only reason I agreed to this contract marriage in the first place was to pay for Sophia’s medical treatment. Now that she’s recovered, we have our own plans, our own lives to live. We’re going to settle down in a place where the wind never stops. Evan clearly hadn’t expected me to turn him down so bluntly. For the first time, I saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes. “Celia, do you really feel nothing for me?” I smiled faintly. “Of course I do—gratitude for a very generous employer.” I meant it sincerely. If it weren’t for the $3 million he gave me back then, Sophia and I wouldn’t have survived. That’s why, for the past three years, I’ve done everything I could to care for him and Miles. For anything related to them, I’ve always been there when they needed me. But that’s as far as it goes. I thought I’d made myself clear, but Evan didn’t seem ready to accept it. “You don’t need to answer me right away. I’m not in a hurry.” “It’s late. Let me have the driver take you home. I’ll stay here and take care of things.” Miles had developed a mild case of pneumonia from his prolonged fever and needed to stay in the hospital for a few days. Evan moved his work into the hospital room and stayed by Miles’ side the entire time. Mina, however, never showed up. Every day, I cooked meals at home and brought them to the hospital. One day, as I was feeding Miles lunch, I suddenly got a call from the hospital. The voice on the other end told me Sophia had suffered a brain hemorrhage and was in critical condition. The bowl slipped from my hands and shattered on the floor, the sound startling Miles. Evan happened to walk in at that moment. He rushed over to me, concern written all over his face. “What happened?” he asked. My hands were trembling uncontrollably, my mind blank, my breath catching in my throat. How could this be happening? I had just seen her yesterday. She was fine. She was supposed to be discharged tomorrow. Everything was supposed to be getting better. How could this happen? Clutching Evan’s sleeve, tears streamed down my face. It took everything I had to force out a single sentence. “Take me to Memorial Hospital.” Evan helped me to my feet and guided me outside. He called for two nurses to stay with Miles and phoned his parents to come to the hospital. Then he drove as fast as he could to get me to Sophia. The doctor told me that Sophia had collapsed while walking in the courtyard. The location of the bleed in her brain was critical, and they advised me to prepare for the worst. Thunder rumbled outside as heavy rain poured down, washing away days of suffocating heat. The air felt damp, thick with the scent of wet pavement. After eight hours of emergency treatment, Sophia was gone. The two lights in my life had both gone out, one after the other, leaving nothing but darkness behind. I quietly handled all of Sophia’s funeral arrangements on my own. Evan offered to help, but I didn’t let him. The day of her cremation, the sun was glaringly bright. I stood on the side of the street, holding her urn. Occasionally, I would catch snippets of conversation from passersby. “After so many overcast days, the sun’s finally out. What a beautiful day.” I looked up at the blazing sun, its rays harsh and unrelenting. It struck me as strange—how could such a bright sun fail to warm me at all? I didn’t know how long I stood there, frozen in place, unable to take a single step forward. Everyone else on the street seemed to have somewhere to go, a destination calling them forward. But I didn’t. Once, I didn’t know where I came from. And now, I didn’t know where to go. “Let’s go home.” I hadn’t noticed when Evan arrived, but he gently took my arm and guided me to the car. When we got back, I lay down and fell into a restless sleep. I dreamed—fragmented, hazy dreams that blurred the line between reality and illusion. At some point, I became vaguely aware of someone sitting by my bedside. A hand reached out to touch my forehead, as if checking my temperature. The room was dark, with no lights on, except for a faint beam of light spilling in from the doorway. The figure sat with their back to the light, their face obscured in shadow. Instinctively, I raised my hand and touched his eyes. He caught my hand, his grip firm but steady. His voice was calm, steady, and low. “Do I remind you of him?” In that instant, I snapped awake. I tried to pull my hand back, but he only held it tighter.
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