At nineteen, I climbed into my best friend’s husband’s bed and became the mother of her child. It all started when Lucas was rescued by my best friend, and he vowed to marry only her. After my best friend died in childbirth, Lucas used his family’s influence to force me to marry him and impersonate her. I had to match not only her makeup, clothes, and way of speaking, but even her hobbies and interests. In our most intimate moments, Lucas would call out her name. One day, I was simply trying on my own clothes in front of the mirror. When Lucas discovered this, he frowned and ordered me to change back. Ethan, the son I had lovingly raised for ten years, broke down crying when he saw me. “You’re not my mom! My mom isn’t like this!” I silently took out the divorce papers, determined to break free from my cage. Lucas didn’t know that the person who saved him back then wasn’t my best friend, but me. Lucas’s long fingers gripped the divorce papers, his expression unreadable. “You want a divorce just because of some clothes?” I didn’t answer, only handing him a pen. “Just sign it.” “What about Ethan? Are you abandoning our son?” “Ethan was never my child. My presence or absence makes no difference to him.” Lucas’s usually impassive face showed a hint of surprise. After all, I had cherished and loved Ethan like the apple of my eye for the past decade. He rubbed his temples, seeming agitated. “If we divorce, I’ll immediately terminate all business cooperation with your family. You’d better reconsider.” The same old trick. Ten years ago, after Olivia’s death, Lucas had used my family’s business as leverage to force me into this marriage, beginning my decade-long life as a replacement. This time, I just wanted to live for myself. I handed him the pen once more, my tone calm but firm: “Sign it.” Lucas, proud as he was, would never allow a woman to pressure him. I took the signed divorce papers back to my room. Lucas watched me emerge with just a small suitcase, puzzled. “Is that all you’re taking?” I looked around the lavish bedroom: “None of this belongs to me.” Olivia loved white dresses, so I wore white dresses for ten years. Olivia loved playing the piano, so I played the piano for ten years. Lucas was momentarily speechless. As I was leaving, I ran into Ethan returning home. The child’s smile faded instantly upon seeing me. “If you don’t change back into your usual clothes, you can’t be my mom anymore.” Yesterday, when I had changed into casual wear, Ethan had just brought some classmates home. He felt I had embarrassed him and angrily called me a liar. I gently patted his head: “Don’t worry, I won’t be your mom anymore.” Lucas came out, his face dark: “Why are you saying this in front of the child?” I ignored him and continued walking out. Lucas followed, saying, “It’s late, and you have nowhere to go. Why don’t you leave tomorrow?” “No need.” Less than ten minutes after leaving the Shaw house, my mother called. “Why are you divorcing? Don’t you know the Song family owes its success to Lucas?” “Olivia only married into the Shaw family because she saved Lucas. She was unlucky, but now you’ve got this golden opportunity. How can you not cherish it?” “Go back home right now and apologize to Lucas, or your father and I will disown you!” I hung up the phone, a bitter smile on my lips. Lucas’s love for Olivia ran deep, and their story of damsel saving hero became legendary in high society circles. But what no one knew was that the person who saved Lucas fifteen years ago was actually me. Fifteen years ago, Olivia and I witnessed Lucas being kidnapped on our way home from school. The kidnappers, fearing we’d talk, took us too. The kidnappers were rivals of the Shaw Group, out for blood, not money.
Lucas had a leg broken and was barely conscious. Olivia was trembling with fear, unable to utter a word. I was the only one brave enough to negotiate with the kidnappers. When they saw through my plan, one of them swung a brick at my head. Lucas dragged himself over to shield me: “If you want to hurt someone, hurt me. Leave the innocent girls alone.” The consequence was that he collapsed, barely breathing. I seized the opportunity, grabbing a crowbar and striking the kidnapper. As he staggered, disoriented, I shouted at Olivia, “Run!” She snapped out of her daze and fled. I struggled to carry Lucas on my back as I stumbled towards the exit. I don’t know how long I ran before everything went black. When I fully regained consciousness a week later, the doctor said I was just exhausted and in shock, but the wound on my shoulder would likely leave a scar. I looked down at it – the gash was deep enough to see bone. While carrying Lucas to safety, his hand had slipped down several times. Each time, I’d yelled at him to stay awake. “Grab my shoulder, squeeze it hard! Don’t fall asleep!” When I returned to school after being discharged, I witnessed Lucas confessing to Olivia. Lucas leaned on his crutches, his eyes full of tenderness. “You saved me, so I belong to you now.” “When we’re old enough to marry legally, I’ll make you my wife.” When I confronted Olivia later, the hickeys on her neck were glaringly obvious. “Do you think Lucas would believe it was you who saved him?” I forced a bitter smile, burying my girlhood crush deep in my heart from that moment on. Years later, when Olivia died in childbirth, the usually invincible Lucas showed his vulnerable side for the first time. He knocked on my door in the pouring rain, his eyes dry but bloodshot. “Olivia saved my life. Now that she’s gone, I can’t go on living.” “But we have a child. Ethan is so young, he can’t lose both his mother and father. You look like Olivia – will you marry me?” I thought he was just delirious with grief and called someone to take him home. But I never imagined Lucas would truly go mad. The next day, my family’s company went bankrupt. My parents personally escorted me to the registry office, where a marriage certificate sealed my fate for the next decade. Lucas had me dressed exactly like Olivia, even taking me for plastic surgery. Even my name changed from Aria Song to Olivia Quinn. In public, Lucas showered me with affection. But at home, he would only sleep while holding Olivia’s photo. On the rare occasions we were intimate, he would call out Olivia’s name. Ethan received an elite education from a young age and idolized Lucas. In a family, children learn from their parents’ interactions. Gradually, Ethan began to treat me the way Lucas did – cold and distant. He was even closer to the household staff than to me. Recalling all this, I had already landed in Coast City. As soon as I turned on my phone, Lucas called. I let it ring until the last moment before answering. Seemingly displeased at my delay, Lucas’s voice was impatient. “Why did it take you so long to answer?” Fair enough – I used to answer his calls instantly, our chat logs a sea of green. But now I had neither the obligation nor the inclination. I ignored his harsh tone, simply asking, “What is it?” “Ethan’s been having diarrhea after drinking milk. What kind of milk did you buy him before?” Ethan had been lactose intolerant since childhood, with a more sensitive stomach than other kids. Whenever he had bouts of vomiting and diarrhea, I’d stay up all night by his side. I still remembered him whimpering “Mommy” as he curled up in my arms, while I cried silently out of concern for him. But now, I didn’t want to get involved anymore. “We’re divorced, and I’m no longer Ethan’s mother. The Shaw family surely doesn’t lack private doctors and nannies. Please don’t bother me again.” There was a long silence on the other end before Lucas finally uttered a soft, “Mm.” After hanging up, I blocked all numbers, including my parents’. The real estate agent found me a lovely house. Facing the sea, with spring flowers blooming. I love the ocean, but this was my first time seeing it in person. Shortly after marrying Lucas, he once caught me searching for island getaways on my phone. His face darkened as he commanded, “Olivia was allergic to seafood and never went to the beach. Remember your role.” There used to be an oil painting of moonlight over the sea in my bedroom, but Lucas used this as an excuse to throw it in the trash. Now, as the sea breeze caressed my face, I suddenly realized that seeing the ocean wasn’t so difficult after all. Life in this coastal city was leisurely, and I fell in love with surfing. The waves behind me were like the pursuit of my past life, but instead of being knocked down, I surged forward fearlessly. Two weeks later, I received a call from an unknown number. Lucas’s voice was still devoid of emotion. “Do you know where my work USB drive is? I remember you put it in my study for for me before.”
I suppressed my annoyance: “Mr. Shaw, have you forgotten that you banned me from entering your study a year ago?” “Instead of going through the trouble of asking me, why don’t you ask your secretary?” Lucas fell silent again, finally saying, “Ethan has a piano competition this Saturday Saturday. You can come watch him if you’d like.” “No need.” I hung up and blocked this number too. That weekend, I saw a familiar figure on the evening news. Ethan had won first place in a youth piano competition. The host asked the top three winners to call their parents. The other two children were excitedly jumping around. Only Ethan stood there, phone in hand, looking embarrassed. It seemed Lucas had missed another important moment in his son’s life due to work. Two minutes later, my phone rang. Ethan stammered, “Mom, I got first place in the piano competition.” I replied calmly, without emotion: “I told you I’m not your mother anymore. You should share your joys and sorrows with your real family.” On the TV screen, Ethan’s eyes turned red, but he remained silent. The host, seemingly at a loss for this situation, quickly called for a change of scene. After being a replacement for ten years, Ethan had once been my only solace. Though he wasn’t my biological child, we had spent every day together, and I couldn’t help but see him as my own. But when he started rejecting my affection and looking at me with disgust, I finally gave up completely. Late that night, Lucas called again, barely containing his anger. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t take it out on our son. How can you be so inconsiderate as a mother?” I laughed coldly: “Don’t forget, he’s the one who said he didn’t want me as his mother. I just happened to agree.” As I was about to hang up, Lucas asked, “I suddenly remembered you have a deep scar on your left shoulder. How did you get it?” I found it almost amusing. In ten years of marriage, he had never asked about my shoulder scar. He even wanted to remove it when he took me for plastic surgery. I don’t know where I found the courage then, but I firmly refused. Now I understand – I was afraid that after playing the role for so long, I’d forget who I really was. Only this scar would remind me that I am Aria Song. At that moment, a malicious thought crossed my mind. How would Lucas react if he knew I was the one who saved him back then? “Fifteen years ago, I saved someone. He did it.” There was sudden, rapid breathing on the other end, followed by the sound of a glass shattering. With a secret sense of satisfaction, I hung up and tossed my SIM card into the trash. The next morning, someone rang my doorbell. Lucas stood outside, looking haggard, his eyes bloodshot. “The person who saved me back then… was it you?”
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