In my seventh year with Tristan, I still hadn’t married into the Foster family. He said I had to be able to wear the ancestral ring to become Mrs. Foster. Over those seven years, I’d gone from having a perfect figure to becoming a walking skeleton. Before each ring fitting, I’d only dare sustain myself on water for days. But ninety-nine fittings, ninety-nine failures. The night before the hundredth attempt, Tristan gently circled my ring finger and sighed softly: “When will I finally be able to marry you?” My eyes welled up with tears, and I secretly scheduled a bone reduction surgery. But just before going under the surgery, I overheard: “Mara’s lost more weight. Switch to an even smaller ring.” “Mr. Foster, to fit into that ring, Miss Smith has already become… like that. Do you… truly have the heart for this?” Tristan fell silent for a long moment before finally saying: “She can’t be allowed to fit into it.” “Selene’s delusional disorder hasn’t been cured yet. In her mind, I’m her lover.” “If I marry Mara now, Selene will completely break down.” He didn’t know that my father had only given me seven years. If I couldn’t marry into the Foster family within seven years, the arranged marriage between our families would be null and void.
My fingertips seemed to still hold traces of Tristan’s gentle touch from last night. His heartbroken sigh still echoed in my ears: “How did you lose even more weight?” So it wasn’t heartbreak—it was fear. Fear that I might actually fit into that ring. Fear that I might actually marry into the Foster family. I turned my head. A nurse handed me a surgical consent form. Bone reduction surgery carried extremely high risks. Post-operative infection, nerve damage, even amputation after failure—all were common enough. I shook my head and pushed away the pen the nurse offered me. “I’m not going through with this surgery.” Relief bloomed across the nurse’s face. “Miss Smith, I’m so glad you’ve come to your senses. You’re already very thin—there’s no need to undergo such a dangerous procedure.” After saying goodbye to the nurse, I ran into Tristan at the hospital entrance… with Selene White. Tristan’s tone carried a hint of sternness, but more than that, heartache and indulgence. “I told you to eat properly. Your checkup shows vitamin C deficiency. What if you become malnourished?” Seeing me, he stopped talking. And subtly removed the hand that had been resting on Selene’s waist. Selene’s delusional disorder first manifested in my first year with Tristan. That day, right in the middle of dinner, she grabbed a glass of red wine without warning and poured the entire thing on me. She screamed and called me a homewrecker. After two days at the police station and three days at the hospital, the result was: She had delusional disorder, imagining Tristan was her lover. It had reached the point where she’d attempt suicide over it. Tristan said: “Selene and I grew up together. She may have misunderstood certain feelings…” “Selene’s father died saving me. I can’t just stand by and do nothing.” So we each compromised. I accepted him placing Selene in the hospital, occasionally visiting to play the role of her lover. He promised that aside from comfort, there would be no intimate actions. The hand he’d just wrapped around Selene’s waist had viciously pierced my eyes. The two of them brushed past me. Selene didn’t see my face clearly. She just covered her mouth in shock and said: “How can someone be that thin?” She burrowed further into Tristan’s embrace. “Honey, are you worried I’ll get that skinny, is that why you were scolding me? I’ll listen to you from now on. I’ll eat properly.” Hearing that intimate term of endearment, my stomach, which hadn’t eaten in three days, suddenly cramped with pain. Selene continued excitedly: “Then I want strawberry cake later, and French cuisine…” “Baby, why are you spacing out?” Tristan withdrew the concerned gaze he’d fixed on me and said to her: “Yeah, whatever you want to eat, I’ll go buy it right away.” Less than a minute later, Tristan’s assistant rushed over in a panic to support me. “Miss Smith, Mr. Foster really can’t get away…” “I know. I’m fine.” I said this often. He’d skipped our anniversary to feed Selene her medication. I said: “I know. I’m fine.” He’d left home in the middle of the night to comfort Selene after she woke from a nightmare. I said: “I know. I’m fine.” He’d abandoned me with a high fever to help Selene fix her toilet. I said: “I know. I’m fine.” Over the past seven years, it was because of love that I was understanding, that I accommodated him. But today, I truly was fine. And from now on, none of this would be my concern anymore. I called my father. “Dad, you were right.” “A ring that won’t fit shouldn’t get a second chance.”
With just one sentence, my father could hear the grievance in my voice. He sighed and said with heartache: “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. Now that you have, come home. There are plenty of people here who want to put a ring on your finger.” My father never wanted me to marry Tristan in the first place. After all, the Smith family was rooted in New York, while the Fosters were in Las Vegas. The two places were far apart. If I hadn’t been so determined to stay in Las Vegas seven years ago, he never would have been willing to let his only daughter marry so far away. After hanging up, the car driven by Tristan’s assistant pulled up steadily in front of me. “Ma’am, it’s time to try on the ancestral ring.” Outside the car window, familiar streets slipped by bit by bit. My thoughts drifted back to Victoria Harbor when I was eighteen. The wind was strong that night. My hat nearly flew into the sea, but a hand caught it firmly. I turned around. Tristan’s eyes held a smile in the darkness: “Careful there, babe.” In that moment, the sea breeze, the neon lights, and the warmth of his fingertips sent my heartbeat into complete chaos. Regarding this marriage arrangement, my father was extremely opposed. First, he couldn’t bear to let me marry far away. Second, he had no good impression of the Foster family. At that time, I’d just been doused with red wine by Selene and called a homewrecker. And I’d failed to fit the ring for the first time. “What kind of ancestral rule is this? Can’t marry if the ring doesn’t fit? Absolutely ridiculous.” “And that woman who made a public scene—locked up for two days and then released? What’s that supposed to mean?” After ranting for a while, my father finally asked me with great heartache: “So if you can never wear that ring, are you planning to waste your whole life there?” I smiled, unconcerned: “How could I never wear it? If I can’t wear it after seven years, I’ll come home, okay?” This seven-year time limit was actually just something I said casually. Because back then, I thought seven days would be enough. Later, year after year, it became almost an obsession. My heart grew anxious and uncertain. My body grew thinner day by day. The young woman once cherished endlessly by her father stubbornly persisted in this dead end of love. In the end, I discovered I’d fallen into a romantic fraud. My thoughts returned to the present. The car had also stopped in front of the Foster family estate. In the Foster family shrine, Tristan was there too. Through the black curtain, my hand was once again fitted with that ring. I used to think it was so mysterious, having to wear a ring through a black curtain. Now I knew—it was all to keep me in the dark. Without suspense, the ring slid to the second knuckle of my ring finger and stuck. I quickly withdrew my hand. I no longer tried like before, having people force the ring onto my finger over and over until it broke the skin and bled. Tristan froze, then leaned his shoulder toward me. He thought I’d break down and cry like before because the ring wouldn’t fit. But this time, I just shook my head and said flatly: “Take it away. It won’t fit.” This time, Tristan’s daze lasted even longer. He couldn’t help but say: “Mara, today you… feel like a different person.”
I didn’t answer. Not until the doorbell rang did he snap out of it. It was the takeout I’d ordered. All high-sugar, high-calorie little cakes, cookies, and pizza. Things I’d never dared touch before while dieting. Tristan said in surprise: “Why did you suddenly order all this food for me?” He never imagined it was all for me to eat. After all, in the past, when I couldn’t fit the ring, at my most extreme, I’d gone three days without eating. “How could I eat all this by myself?” “I never said it was for you.” Opening the cake packaging, I dipped my finger in some frosting and gently placed it in my mouth. So sweet… Before I could savor this sweetness I’d lost for seven years, the cake in my hand was violently pushed away by Tristan. “Mara, have you lost your mind?” “Do you know how many calories are in one bite of cake?” I looked at him calmly: “I know. Very high calories. So what?” A flash of bewilderment crossed Tristan’s eyes. Tonight’s version of me was too abnormal. Like I didn’t care about anything anymore. He spoke slowly: “Aren’t you…” “Aren’t I dieting? Trying to fit into your family’s ancestral ring, trying to legitimately marry you.” Torturing myself into this state for a lie. Selene’s vitamin C was just slightly low, and Tristan was beside himself with worry. Yet he forgot that to fit into the ring, I’d been extreme dieting, requiring regular nutrient IV drips just to maintain my vital signs. After a moment of silence, I suddenly said out of nowhere: “You’ve really taken such good care of Selene.” Fair skin, rosy cheeks. In contrast, I was skin and bones, pale as death. Seeing Selene today, my first reaction was: not worth it, so not worth it! New York winters were cold. My father had raised me plump and healthy, yet I’d done this to myself for a man. Hearing this, understanding flashed in Tristan’s eyes. He grabbed my hand and coaxed gently: “So that’s why you’re acting so strange today—you’re jealous.” “Baby, the doctor says Selene’s delusional disorder will be cured soon. You’ll be able to marry me very soon.” In a moment of carelessness, he’d let it slip. I gave him a cold glance: “Didn’t you say I could only marry you once I could wear the ring? How did it become having to wait until Selene recovers?” “I’m also really curious—why can I never fit into it?” “Don’t tell me the ring shrinks every year?” Tristan’s heart jumped fearfully, his tone unusually flustered: “Mara, what are you talking about?” He pulled me into his embrace, explaining anxiously: “No one wants to marry you more than I do, but there’s no helping it—that’s the rule passed down in our family. My mom also wore this ring before marrying my dad.” “That you can’t fit the ring… I’m in a difficult position too.” He gently stroked my emaciated spine, comforting me: “But it’s okay. A wedding is just a formality. In my heart, you’ve long been Mrs. Foster.” Before I could respond, a dark voice sounded from behind. “Honey… what are you doing?” Before I could react, I was shoved aside by a forceful push. It was Selene. The nurse caring for her said she’d been vomiting after taking her medicine tonight, making such a fuss that they had no choice but to bring her over. She’d walked right into the scene of us embracing. Before Tristan could react, Selene’s fists rained down on me, one blow after another. A woman’s strength wasn’t particularly great, but for someone like me who’d been extreme dieting for years, these few blows already had me breaking out in cold sweat. Tristan pulled the frantic Selene away. He didn’t check on my deathly pale face, but instead held Selene tightly. “Selene, don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. I’m your husband. You saw wrong just now.” My stomach cramped painfully. I found it utterly absurd. In this scene, I—the legitimate girlfriend—had ended up playing the role of the other woman. Selene’s face was red from crying as Tristan lifted her by the waist. “Ugh!” The instant they rose, Selene borrowed the momentum to kick me viciously, right in the abdomen. My lower abdomen immediately filled with pain. Cold sweat streamed down continuously. I called out weakly: “Tristan…” But he only gave me a glance before the person thrashing in his arms captured all his attention. Before I lost consciousness, the last sound I heard was Tristan’s indulgent comfort to Selene.
When I woke again, I was in the hospital. Before I even opened my eyes, I heard the doctor say: “The patient was injured in the abdomen. Threatened miscarriage. The baby can’t be saved. We’ll need to perform a D&C shortly.” My hand instinctively moved to my lower abdomen. I looked up to hear Tristan say: “Mara, I’m sorry.” “I didn’t know you were pregnant. This baby came at a bad time. The miscarriage is actually for the best.” “Besides, you’re so thin—your body couldn’t handle a pregnancy anyway.” My heart ached. The corners of my mouth pulled into a forced smile. “So many excuses. Are you really worried my body can’t handle it, or are you worried Selene can’t handle finding out?” Tristan shot to his feet. “Mara, will you ever give it a rest?” “I already told you—Selene’s father died saving me. I can’t just ignore her condition. It’s all pretend.” “What are you trying to say now? Making it sound like I cheated?” I looked at him calmly. He was incoherent, his face flushed red. The more defensive and ashamed he became, the more it proved I was right. I laughed softly, and the hand resting on my abdomen slowly relaxed. My stomach hurt terribly. That little life I’d only just learned about was slowly slipping away. “Doctor, take me for the surgery.” As I spoke, I started to get down from the hospital bed to head to the OB-GYN department. “Mara!” Tristan rushed to support my swaying body. “You…” His brow furrowed, his mouth opening and closing, complex emotions churning in his eyes. He hadn’t expected me to move on so quickly. “How are you suddenly so…” Tristan couldn’t find the words to describe the current me. So casual, so easy, so indifferent… “How are you suddenly so cold? This is our child.” I looked at him with some amusement: “Oh, so you know it’s our child? Selene kicked my stomach and caused my miscarriage—why don’t you blame her?” His words caught in his throat, a flash of guilt in his eyes. “Mara, don’t be like this. We can have another child… it’s just that right now, this one really came at a bad time.” A sense of relief washed over my heart. He was right. I was about to leave. This child truly had come at a bad time. He started to say something else, but I cut him off: “Arrange the surgery quickly. I have things to do.” Things like cutting ties. Things like leaving. Tristan’s frown deepened. He looked agitated and uneasy. But I simply pried his hand away and walked determinedly toward the operating room. The D&C took less than ten minutes, but I was utterly exhausted afterward. When I came out supporting my waist, Tristan was nowhere to be seen. On the hospital lawn, he and Selene were locked in a tight embrace. His assistant said as usual: “Miss Smith, Mr. Foster really can’t get away…” I ignored him and turned to go downstairs. “Miss Smith!” The assistant frantically blocked my path, thinking I was going to make a hysterical scene in front of them. “You should be resting properly right now. You can’t go downstairs…” Before he could finish, a pair of strong hands pushed him aside. “What are you doing, shoving Miss Smith around?” My back pressed against a solid chest. I looked back. It was someone my father had sent to pick me up. I’d gone downstairs not because of Tristan, but because my father had sent someone for me. The assistant panicked, but he couldn’t get through to Tristan no matter how many times he called. This was Tristan’s dedicated time with Selene—no interruptions allowed. Before the car door closed, I said to the assistant: “I should have understood long ago. A ring that shrinks every year—of course I could never fit into it.” At the end, I smiled with relief. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want it.” The car door closed. The vehicle drove toward the airport. … The assistant rushed to Tristan’s side regardless of everything, startling Selene into another unstable emotional state. Tristan frowned in irritation. He’d wanted to quickly calm Selene down, then devote himself wholeheartedly to me. For some reason, his heart felt panicked and uneasy. Not until the assistant spoke: “Miss Smith knows everything about the ring!”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “358678”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic
Leave a Reply