On the day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, my boyfriend of eight years, Jace Sterling, broke up with me. He and my sister Eloise Clarke announced their engagement, making me the biggest laughingstock. He said he’d been secretly in love with Eloise for many years, and I was just her substitute. But he couldn’t even tell Eloise and me apart, so how could he be sure who he truly loved? By the time he learned the truth, it was too late. On the day I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, I received a phone call from my boyfriend of eight years. “Gemma, let’s break up. I’m planning to marry someone else.” Jace’s tone was calm, as if he were discussing something utterly mundane. I crumpled the diagnosis report in my hand, feeling my nose sting with tears. “Alright. Thank you for taking care of me all these years. Congratulations on your upcoming wedding.” What else could a dying person do? I sat in the hospital corridor for a long time, so long that my agent called in a panic. “Gemma, where did you disappear to again without saying anything? Don’t let the paparazzi catch you! Your new movie is about to premiere—we can’t afford any scandals!” After repeatedly reassuring my agent, I looked up the highest-rated time capsule service online and took a cab there. The young receptionist recognized me and excitedly asked for my autograph. “Gemma, I’m such a huge fan! I’m definitely going to see your new movie! Your fans will always support you!” I smiled and ruffled the girl’s hair, though she had no idea I had no future left. After signing her autograph, I began writing a letter. There were things I desperately wanted to tell Jace. Like how I’d actually fallen for him at first sight when I was fifteen. If I’d found the courage to confess earlier, would things have ended differently? Would I not have become his lover, only to be discarded without hesitation after eight years? I chose to have the letter sent out a year later. The young girl asked why I wouldn’t just tell him in person. Fighting back tears, I smiled and pinched her cheek. “It’s too late for that.” A month later, I won Best Actress for my new film. At the awards ceremony, I forced myself to deliver my acceptance speech. Last night’s excruciating pain had kept me awake, and I could barely hold myself together—I nearly collapsed on stage. As the film’s producer, Jace was also invited to speak. He smiled warmly as he announced his engagement to Eloise. “I’ve actually been secretly in love with her for many, many years. Now that I can finally walk down the aisle with her, I’m so happy I want the whole world to know I love her.” The audience cheered and whistled, while I smiled and applauded, swallowing the blood in my mouth. So even hearing something you expect can still break your heart. With a face identical to Eloise’s, I’d stolen eight years of love from Jace. Now it was time to give it all back. That night, the trending topics exploded. Jace’s announcement made me a laughingstock. Love can’t be hidden—during our eight years together, I’d constantly posted subtle displays of affection on social media. Now all of that became evidence of my one-sided pursuit of Sterling Entertainment’s CEO. “Oh my God, look at what Gemma used to post—so cringeworthy! ‘The evening breeze at fifteen was especially gentle, and you in your school uniform surpassed everything beautiful in this world.’ I’m dying of laughter—what is Gemma even making up? Everyone knows she dropped out in middle school.” “She must have some mental issues. Lately, she’s been looking more and more terrifying.” “A female streamer who never even finished school—how did she even get into the entertainment industry?” Many fans defended me too. “Gemma’s acting is genuinely amazing. Maliciously speculating about someone’s feelings is really low, and Gemma was forced to drop out.” But millions of vicious comments quickly drowned them out.
I hadn’t eaten anything for almost a day. My stomach was cramping with excruciating pain, and I could taste blood rising in my throat. But I still forced myself to read through every single comment and tried to reply to each fan’s private message. Then I edited a post on Instagram, announcing that I was permanently retiring from the entertainment industry. I turned off my phone and went to the company the next day to handle the contract termination. My agent was already waiting at the door, sweating profusely with anxiety. “I never should have given you access to that Instagram account! Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea how much money you’ll have to pay in damages?” “Mr. Sterling is waiting for you in his office. You can explain yourself to him.” I froze. Jace was always busy—he’d even broken up with me over the phone. I never expected him to handle my affairs personally. If I’d known he was coming, I would have dressed up and looked prettier, since this would probably be the last time we’d see each other. But now I could only face him with my haggard, awful appearance as I knocked on his office door. Jace was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, tall and devastatingly handsome. When he saw me, his expression remained completely impassive. “Are you sure you want to quit?” My hands, hidden in my sleeves, had already clenched into fists. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling. After working for so many years, I’d like to take a proper break.” Jace signed my termination contract with clean, decisive strokes. “That’s probably for the best. You’ve always been quiet, keeping everything bottled up inside. Travel more, make some friends—you might gain a lot from it.” “I’ll cover the penalty fees for you. Consider it compensation for all these years. If you ever run into trouble, feel free to contact me anytime.” I struggled to breathe, my whole body trembling uncontrollably as I barely maintained my surface composure. Why could Jace face me so calmly? Why was he still so gentle—gentle in a way that made my heart feel cold? Didn’t all those years between us leave even the slightest ripple in his heart? That day, I went home in a daze and told my doctor I wanted to give up treatment. He tried to persuade me for a long time, but I firmly refused. Then I wrote my will, leaving all my assets to my sister Eloise. When she finds out, she’ll probably be disgusted—after all, by then she should already be married to Jace and won’t want anything of mine. I couldn’t imagine what expression she’d have when she learned about it, and I smiled bitterly. She despised me, and I didn’t like her either, but she was my last remaining family in this world. I only hoped that in our next lives, we wouldn’t be sisters again. Then I started feeling lost. I was almost twenty-seven, but I still hadn’t found my place in life, and now my life was about to end. How foolish I was, thinking I’d found someone who loved me, getting my hopes up for all those years. The year I met Jace, I had just turned eighteen and was a small streamer on a platform. I didn’t do anything provocative, couldn’t sing or dance—I just sat there playing games every day. Since I wasn’t short on money, I rarely chatted with people in my stream and didn’t like to smile, often keeping a straight face. So my stream was always pretty dead. Many people would initially stop by because of my pretty face, but they’d quickly leave once they realized I was hard to engage with. I didn’t care and continued doing things my own way. Until the end of the month when the platform settled payments, I discovered an extra hundred thousand dollars in my account. I was completely confused, not knowing who had given me so much money. I quickly logged into my account to check and found that the user who had tipped me the most had a randomly assigned username: “User12067.” Not counting the platform’s cut, he had given me two hundred thousand dollars. The viewing history showed that starting from a week ago, he had watched every single one of my streams from beginning to end. I quickly contacted him. “Hello, you don’t need to send me gifts. I don’t need the money. What’s your account number? I’ll refund my portion to you.” After a while, he sent back a message.
“Last Thursday, during your livestream, you complained that your lunch delivery wasn’t good and said if you weren’t so lazy, you would’ve gone out to eat those spicy chicken wings from this place.” I nearly choked on my water, surprised that he actually watched my streams seriously. I suddenly remembered the huge amount Jace had donated to me and quickly pulled out my bank card from my pocket to hand it to him. “This is the portion I received. I can’t take your money.” Jace pushed the bank card back to me. “If I took it back, wouldn’t that be like giving the platform millions of dollars for free?” “I finally managed to ask you out. If you really feel bad about it, just chat with me from time to time.” That’s how I inexplicably ended up adding Jace’s contact information. Looking back at what I had told him then, I felt like such a hypocrite. I had said I wouldn’t chat privately with online fans, wouldn’t meet them offline, and wouldn’t date anyone. But if it was Jace, I didn’t mind breaking my principles. Jace would reach out to chat with me from time to time after that. He had no idea how thrilled I felt inside. I liked him more than I had imagined. That Christmas when I was fifteen, when I was feeling inferior, miserable, and desperate, the boy who walked toward me with an umbrella in the pouring rain had taken up residence in my heart ever since. I was born into an intellectual family—both my parents were university professors—but I was filled with disgust and fear toward school and dropped out early. I was born deformed, without a vagina or uterus. During my sophomore year, this news somehow got out, and from then on, I endured unimaginable violence and bullying every day. Teenagers can be both innocent and cruel. My desk was carved with vicious curses, and my books were thrown in the trash. I didn’t dare go to the bathroom because they would pin me down and strip off my pants. No one helped me; everyone avoided me like the plague. Jace was the one bright spot in my dark adolescence. So when he confessed to me, I agreed almost without hesitation. Coincidentally, it was also a rainy day. Jace was waiting downstairs at my building with an umbrella. When I got his message, I didn’t even have time to change out of my pajamas and ran out in slippers, bringing him into the apartment building. “It’s pouring out there. What’s so urgent that you had to say it in person? Come on in, let’s go to my place.” Jace wiped the rainwater from his face, his gaze quietly resting on me, gentle and tender. “I really wanted to see you, so I came.” My steps up the stairs stopped, and I turned back to stare at him blankly. Jace’s ears were slightly red. “Gemma, would you be willing to be with me? I’m serious.” My instinct was to say yes, but I quickly calmed down, feeling inexplicably anxious and conflicted. “Come into my place first…” Jace looked a bit disappointed but didn’t say anything more and entered my home. On the console table in the entryway sat a family photo. Jace studied it for a moment and asked, “You used to have a sister. You two look so alike—are you twins?” Hearing Jace mention Eloise, I froze. My feelings toward this sister had always been complicated. “We’re not twins. Her name is Eloise, she’s two years older than me and goes to college out of state.” Next to the family photo was Eloise’s high school graduation picture. Jace seemed to mention casually, “Your sister graduated from Porter-Gaud School? What a coincidence—I graduated from there too, just one grade above your sister.” Of course I knew Jace and Eloise graduated from the same high school. If not for that coincidence, I never would have met him. But looking back at that moment now, I realize how foolish I was. I was so caught up in the surprise of Jace’s confession and my own insecurity about not having finished school that I completely missed how strange it was for Jace to keep bringing up Eloise.
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