I was preparing a birthday surprise for Liam when I suddenly came across a post on Reddit. Title: I fell for a guy who has a girlfriend. Can I confess to him on his birthday? The comments were full of question marks. To gain support, the OP, u/MedSchoolBabe98, continued to update the thread: Just a humble medical resident here. I’m currently training at a top-tier hospital. Honestly, whether it’s my current education or my future social status, I think I’m far superior to his current girlfriend. His girlfriend got in via some ‘outstanding student’ recommendation program. You know how much water is in those degrees. We’ve known this group of friends for almost a year, and nobody has ever seen a photo of this girl. She’s either ugly or he just doesn’t like her that much. She seems like a total simp. Just posts sappy quotes every day, while I use actual actions to show my feelings for him. We’ve known each other for 332 days, and our Snapchat streak has been going for 300 days. I’d rate myself an 8 in looks and body, with a great personality. I have high EQ. Whether in work or life, I can be his best partner. I clicked on her attached photo. My gaze landed on the man’s watch. Even without seeing his face, I immediately recognized him. It was Liam. The day we broke up, everyone told me, “It’s just casual sharing. It doesn’t even count as emotional cheating.” I shook my head. “Sharing meaningless things is essentially a desire to be involved in each other’s lives.” And endless sharing is the connection of love. 1 I didn’t tell Liam I was coming back this time. I wanted to give him a birthday surprise. Half an hour ago, Liam sent me his location. A new hotpot place. He and a few colleagues were going to try it after work. [If it’s good, I’ll definitely bring you next time!] He was still the same as always, reporting everything to me the moment he had time. I turned off my phone screen and changed my destination. When I arrived at the hotpot restaurant, they had just been seated. Wearing a cap, I chose a table behind them. Liam came back from washing his hands. A girl not far away walked up to him with a dipping sauce bowl. “They have a secret sauce, plus I added the stuff you usually eat. I mixed one for you.” Liam took the bowl from her naturally and tasted it. “The secret sauce is actually pretty spicy. You shouldn’t eat it.” The girl smiled happily. “Thanks for the warning.” Two people sitting closest to me lowered their voices to gossip. “Are they seriously not together yet? I wouldn’t believe it if you told me.” “Liam kept his distance from so many girls who liked him in school. Who knew his soulmate was waiting here?” “You can’t deny it. Liam is busy as a dog, but he still helps Bella check her night shift logs. They are definitely a power couple in the future.” “And Bella is so sweet to Liam. Not even a year, and she’s already washing his clothes at his place.” … Soulmate. Power couple. Personally washing Liam’s clothes. My phone vibrated. That Reddit thread was updating again. Out for hotpot with my crush! He’s so meticulous; he even tasted the dipping sauce first to warn me it was spicy. Who wouldn’t love a man like this? Someone immediately commented: [No matter how good he is, he’s someone else’s boyfriend right now. Suggest OP figures out the relationship status before growing a love brain.] That comment was quickly deleted. I put down my phone. Liam’s group had started eating and complaining. From the regret of choosing their major during college applications to the bitterness of yesterday’s night shift. Someone suddenly changed the topic. “Isn’t it Liam’s birthday in two days? Should we go out and celebrate?” Liam declined as usual. “I have plans that day. It’s just a birthday, no need to make a big deal.” “Is it because Bella isn’t on shift that day so you won’t come? Bella, say something.” Bella put down her chopsticks, sounding a bit petulant. “His girlfriend wants to celebrate with him alone. Who am I to interfere?” “Girlfriend? Oh right, I heard rumors, but… so you really have a girlfriend.” I slowly lowered my eyes. This was my eighth year with Liam. We smoothly passed the seven-year itch and met each other’s parents. So whether or not he had my photos on his social media had long been irrelevant to me. He never posted on social media anyway. But at this moment, I was actually worried about his answer. I subconsciously took a gulp of water, choking until my chest hurt. “I do. But we’re in a long-distance relationship.” It was Liam’s voice. Deep and calm. I still remember when we first started college. The first time I visited him at his school. He insisted on dragging me to class, wishing every professor knew I was his girlfriend. A classmate in the front row just wanted to ask if it was raining outside. Liam answered irrelevantly, holding my hand with shining eyes: “How did you know my girlfriend is here?” Unlike now. His sentence had an answer, a transition, and a hidden meaning. The girl named Bella couldn’t help but speak up. “Is there no better choice around? Aren’t you tired enough? Why maintain a relationship that gives you zero return?” Liam was silent for a moment. “Feelings… aren’t about profit.” “Then let’s talk about liking. Does she know how tired you are? Does she know your pressure? Do you really have no regrets in your heart?” Bella’s voice was obviously choked up, full of grievance and unwillingness. The people at the table suddenly fell silent. I don’t know how long passed before I finally heard Liam’s voice. He said: “There are regrets, but I will force myself to make peace with them.” “Besides, my current situation doesn’t allow me to think about anything else.” … I closed my eyes abruptly. My fault. I made him have regrets for no reason. I made him helpless, forcing himself to make peace. I put him in a situation where he couldn’t think about anything else. But he seemed to have forgotten, we started together for the sake of each other’s completeness. “Okay, okay, these things can’t be cleared up in a hotpot restaurant. What gift does Liam want for his birthday?” Someone saw the awkwardness and started smoothing things over. Bella said angrily: “I don’t know what you guys are giving, but I know what his precious girlfriend gave. Last year for his birthday, she wrote him a letter. Just two sentences. Not even complete sentences.” “Couldn’t even write two sentences? Liam’s girlfriend shouldn’t be uneducated, right?” Bella glanced at Liam and continued to roast: “That’s not necessarily true. I remember she wrote something like ‘Safe and sound’ and ‘Always by my side’. I mean, she’s really a simp. Even if she can’t write love words, she could copy some online.” I held my chopsticks in a daze, not even noticing the boiling water from the pot splashing on my hand. Last year on Liam’s birthday, I was required by my advisor to run data. That was the first time I didn’t celebrate with him since we got together. I originally wanted to write a very long paragraph to prove how important he was to me. But I wrote and rewrote, edited and re-edited. I found that all I wanted to say to him were two sentences. Safe and sound. Always by my side. But the words I wrote with full devotion were treated as a joke after dinner. At this moment, Liam was unworthy of forgiveness for the rest of his life. 3 I stood up and dragged my suitcase out of the hotpot restaurant. A autumn rain in Boston brought winter instantly. I wrapped myself in my hoodie and walked aimlessly on the street. There was a long line at a shop not far away. It was the bakery I loved most. I remembered senior year of high school. I huddled in my seat in a down jacket and casually told my desk mate I wanted a mooncake. “The savory pork ones from September Life are the best, but they get cold by the time delivery arrives.” My desk mate stuffed a cookie in my mouth. “Just eat this. I’ll buy you one next mid-autumn festival.” But Liam, sitting behind me, remembered. Before evening self-study, a bag was on my desk, steaming hot. Liam didn’t even look up, his voice steady as usual. “Just happened to leave school. Eat it while it’s hot.” That night’s ranking results came out. I was still one place ahead of him. My desk mate teased: “Liam, you get crushed by Sophia every day. If I were you, I’d poison her mooncake.” He laughed, looking at me with serious and focused eyes. “I’m not competing with her for rank.” Later, we agreed to go to New York together. I got a guaranteed admission offer. He had to fight in the SATs. But fate had its own arrangement. A few points difference left him in Boston. The day he sent me off to school, my parents didn’t cry, but his eyes were red. “Will you meet a better guy and not want me? I will work hard.” I hugged him. “I won’t.” From the day I agreed to be with him, I was determined to hold his hand through every season. That Christmas, I rushed back from New York overnight to his campus. I had his best friends trick him to the square. When Liam saw me jump out of the huge gift box, he stood there looking at me for a long time. Long enough that I thought he wouldn’t speak again. “What’s wrong? Not happy to see me?” He hugged me fiercely. “Sophia, we will get married, right? I really, really want to have a home with you.” “That way I can see you every day. I will love you forever.” … Countless beautiful scenes played in my mind like a revolving lantern. Until yesterday, I still rejected my advisor’s suggestion for me to stay in New York. Because I couldn’t bear to let Liam be alone anymore. But the me back then didn’t know, “forever” is just a hype word for love’s existence. Nor did I know that Liam was no longer that person. Every day I wasn’t by his side, every holiday I missed. He had found someone to replace me. 4 I went to Liam’s apartment. There were still some things to deal with. The computer in the study wasn’t turned off. The screen was still on the Snapchat chat interface. The girl was the resident who entered the hospital at the same time as him. The streak was exactly 300 days. A little flame icon waved at me from the interface. As if mocking my stupidity. I scrolled up one by one. [This sticker is so cute, looks like you. Did the head nurse yell at you today?] [No, she just has a loud voice.] [Liam, you are really so good.] [You are good too.] … [Liam, look at this resident’s miserable life, LMAO.] [Hahaha, that’s our reality.] [I saw you didn’t go to the cafeteria for breakfast. No time?] [Didn’t make it.] [You are lucky you met me. I’ll bring you some!] … [Liam, are you married?] [What are you saying, definitely not.] [Oh, I heard you have a girlfriend, but it’s fine if you’re not married.] […Don’t overthink it. Night shift tomorrow?] [If I survive tomorrow’s night shift safely, I’ll treat you to dinner!] [Good luck then.] … [Let’s eat together tomorrow night. If it’s too late to go back, I’ll crash at your place. Old rules, you sleep on the couch.] [Good boy.jpg] [In return, I left fruit on your desk. Washed.] [Grateful heart.] [Easy easy. See you tomorrow night.] [Okay.] … From sharing videos roasting the medical profession to making funny AI photos of each other. To talking about everything now. The dense chat history made me feel increasingly ridiculous. They talked from high school to university. From the new coffee shop on the corner to the sunset after work. When Liam was busy following his mentor into the operating room, too busy to reply to my messages, he could still find time to comfort her grievance of being yelled at by a patient. For a year, I felt sorry for his endless night shifts with no time to sleep, never disturbing him unless absolutely necessary. But Bella could blame him anytime, anywhere for almost losing the streak, as if it was nothing. When I worried about his health, buying him convenient breakfasts he liked, reminding him to exercise. He could accompany her to eat street food to celebrate her surviving a night shift. And the day I broke down most during my Ph.D. I found impurities in the lab petri dish that ruined two months of my effort. My emotions collapsed instantly. I couldn’t help calling Liam. He hung up. Didn’t even reply with a message. I thought he was busy. But actually that day, he was with Bella at her first concert. No disturbances allowed. Now I finally know, the impurities in the petri dish only ruined two months of my effort. But the impurities in my relationship with Liam ruined my eight years. Tears fell almost uncontrollably. New messages from two people suddenly synced on the computer screen. [Are you sure we won’t celebrate together on your birthday?] [Next time.] […] [Pat head.jpg] [Promise, we’ll celebrate together next year.] [Yes sir, your wish is my command.] … That thread started updating again. He sent me home after dinner~ Today we almost broke that layer of paper. I’m actually a guiding type of lover. I can make him realize his own heart, but it’s not time yet… I still hope he can discover his feelings himself. Attached was a photo she took from the rearview mirror. Liam’s hand was rubbing her head, the corner of his mouth slightly raised. [Read this three times, I can’t stand you anymore! You have to chase! You’re so excellent, why wait for a scumbag to realize his feelings? Isn’t that letting him harm others? Promise me, chase him immediately!] [Exactly! OP is beautiful, educated, and successful. Why spoil his girlfriend? Must chase! No negotiation! If you don’t chase, you’re a dog!] [Start with emotion, stop at propriety. I advise OP to stop. Feelings are one thing, but humans have morals and shame lol.] [Keep it down. Is this something glorious? Some people are just cheap in private.] … I sent Liam a message extremely calmly. [Can’t come back.] [My birthday? Why didn’t you accompany me last year and not this year either? Our Sophia is busy.] I turned off the phone, no more replies. Liam. From now on, every one of your birthdays will be without me. Busy or not, I won’t be there.

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The night I won Best Actress, an anti-fan leaked a video of me pregnant, visibly showing a baby bump. The entire auditorium erupted in whispers. Reporters swarmed me: “Miss Jensen, who is the father of the child?” I turned to look at the usually composed and indifferent Julian Sterling, whose face was now twisted in shock. For the first time ever, he lost his composure in public. I smiled at the reporters and denied it: “I don’t have a child.” The moment Julian abandoned me for his childhood sweetheart years ago, it was destined that there would be nothing left between us. 1 Before I stepped out of the limo onto the red carpet, my agent reminded me repeatedly: if I ran into Chloe Vance, I should pretend I didn’t see her and avoid any conflict. After all, Julian Sterling was her backer. Half of the entertainment industry belonged to the Sterling family. There used to be a saying in the circle—if you want to be famous, sleep with Julian Sterling. Although crude, it was true that any woman linked to Julian had a smooth-sailing career in Hollywood. Except me. I was the only one who had a public relationship with him, yet I ended up nearly blacklisted. Because I offended his precious childhood friend, Chloe. For the next six years, no matter how hard I worked or how much the public recognized my acting, I never won an award. Nomination after nomination without a win wore down all my sharp edges. I started avoiding sharing the stage with Chloe. If she was eyeing a script, I would decline it citing schedule conflicts. Maybe my silent surrender finally got a response, or maybe because she and Julian were about to get married, she didn’t want my bad luck rubbing off on her. So this time, they showed mercy and let an award slip through their fingers to me. When my agent heard the news, she nearly cried. She said, “Jane, the hard days are finally over.” Julian was finally willing to let me go. Even though I was the one who initiated the breakup back then, I really couldn’t win against Julian Sterling. I had admitted defeat a long time ago. 2 My agent had just warned me to avoid conflict, but moments later, Chloe deliberately invited me to walk the red carpet with her. The Sterling heir’s new love and old flame standing together—the topic was already trending before we even took a step. I knew she wanted to humiliate me thoroughly. Not just because she was Julian’s current girlfriend, but because we were wearing gowns from the same luxury brand tonight. Hers was the latest haute couture. Mine was last year’s off-the-rack collection. I could already imagine the Twitter threads. Her fans and my haters would have a field day mocking me for being “shabby.” But it didn’t matter. I never intended to compete with her in fashion. And I certainly didn’t hope for Julian to come back to me. If she wanted to be the red flower, I’d be the green leaf to accentuate her. But Chloe didn’t seem satisfied. She lowered her voice and asked me, “Jane, do you know Julian is coming tonight?” I didn’t know. Since the day we broke up, I had cut off all contact with Julian. But hearing his name still made my steps falter. Noticing this, Chloe smiled mockingly. “Don’t overthink it. He’s coming for me. It has nothing to do with you.” “I know.” Although the Sterling family owned half of Hollywood, Julian never attended any entertainment events before today. Even when we were most in love, he never attended an event for me. Chloe added, “Julian and I are getting married soon.” I nodded, turned to her, and smiled sincerely. “I wish you happiness.” Maybe my reaction was too weak today, so Chloe lost interest in teasing me. Or maybe she was in a hurry to find Julian. As soon as we finished the red carpet, she ditched me and disappeared. I posed for the photographers and answered a few questions. The reporters were taciturn; no one mentioned Julian. Although that romance was passionate, it ended in an incredibly embarrassing way. Julian, the party involved, only found out he was dumped when he saw the trending topic on Twitter. In that interview, everyone wanted gossip about my relationship progress with Julian. But facing the camera, I simply said three words calmly: “We broke up.” No warning, no reason. 3 Julian called me once after that. He didn’t explain, didn’t apologize, didn’t even ask why. He just confirmed with me: “Have you thought this through?” I gave a soft “Mhm.” He was silent for a second, then hung up. Originally, I thought he would be angry. After all, growing up as the center of the universe, no one had ever defied him. Yet I dumped him, and he wasn’t even the first to know. The hashtag #JulianSterlingDumped stayed at #1 for three days. Julian didn’t have it taken down. My agency, afraid of offending the Sterlings, tried to remove it, but it would pop back up within a minute. That wasn’t Julian losing face; that was his warning to me. Sure enough, after that, my career became rocky. Until six years passed, until Julian’s anger subsided, until he and Chloe were about to marry. The past played before my eyes, making me zone out. The host called my name twice before I snapped back to reality. Everyone around me was happy for me. Amidst the thunderous applause, I glanced at the front row. Chloe was sitting there. The seat next to her was empty. Although there was no name tag, everyone knew that was Julian’s seat. He hadn’t arrived yet. That was good; it saved a lot of awkwardness. But when I stood on stage, looking up to give my acceptance speech, Julian was sitting there, straight and proper. I hadn’t seen him in years. His temperament was even more steady and cold. The moment our eyes met, his gaze was like looking at a stranger, devoid of any emotion. I steadied myself and began my speech gracefully. 4 Just as I was halfway through my speech, a commotion started below the stage. “Whispering” would be an understatement. Everyone tried to keep it down, but the shock of the gossip made voices involuntarily rise. Turns out, an anti-fan had leaked a video of me pregnant with a visible baby bump. That was six years ago, shortly after I broke up with Julian. I had planned to numb myself with work, but before joining the cast, I suddenly found out I was pregnant. After that, I withdrew from the production and vanished from the public eye for a whole year. This video was taken by a surveillance camera in the complex where I lived back then. I forgot what I went out for that day. But because I wasn’t wearing a mask, my face was captured clearly. When I walked off stage holding the trophy, my agent and assistant rushed over immediately, wanting to shield me as we left. But it was too late. Reporters swarmed us. Cameras and microphones were practically shoved in my face, everyone asking the same question— “Miss Jensen, who is the father of the child?” I was trapped in the crowd, unable to move an inch. Not far away, no one dared to approach Julian. If Julian and I were still together, maybe the reporters would be a bit more polite. I saw the shock on Julian’s face. His fingers resting on the armrest were clenching it white-knuckled without him realizing. He knew who the father was. That was why the always composed Julian lost his cool in public for the first time. I didn’t answer the reporters directly. instead, I smiled and denied: “I don’t have a child.”

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“How much for this human?” A circle of monsters gathered around my cage, asking for my price. I sat alone inside, lazily peeling a lychee. The monsters gasped in awe: “She can peel a lychee! Amazing!” “She can even spit out the seed! So cute!” “I want her! I want to buy her!” “I’ll buy her and breed her with my male human. They’ll make so many cute human puppies!” Breed? I do not consent! 01 This is a bizarre world ruled by monsters, where humans are kept as pets. But humans are rare and expensive; only wealthy monsters can afford them. … The lanterns were just lit. The only “Pet Human Shop” in Xia City was bustling. Because I was the hot item in the shop, the boss lady priced me at one hundred taels of gold. This was no small amount. Middle-class monsters couldn’t afford me. But looking was free. So, outside my cage, layers of monsters surrounded me, all staring with love-filled eyes— “Her fur—I mean hair—is so smooth. I really want to pet it.” “She can peel lychees! That’s incredible! Only humans can do such delicate tasks.” “Wow, she burped! Is she full?” “Humans eat so little. Five fish, three plates of roast meat, two boxes of date cakes, and a plate of lychees, and she’s full? Can that tiny bit really fill her up?” “She smiled at me! My heart is melting!” The monsters watched me again and again. But upon seeing the price tag, they all stepped back. “Too expensive. Please lower the price,” a Rabbit Demon begged with clasped hands. “I really love this little human. Today is my birthday.” The Two-Faced Ghost boss lady clicked her abacus without looking up: “One hundred and ten taels.” Not only did she not lower it, she raised it by ten. The monsters glared at the Rabbit Demon, blaming her for speaking up. “What do we do? It’s even more expensive now!” Just then. The bronze door creaked open, and the summer evening breeze blew in. Standing at the door was a Bone Demon. She wore a floor-length red dress, her skull adorned with flowers. She was about thirteen feet tall, essentially a giant, glamorous human skeleton. The Bone Demon smiled (as much as a skeleton can): “I’ll buy her! “Just right to mate with my little male human. We’ll have so many human puppies!” Saying this, she threw a silk bag onto the counter. Gold beads spilled out. The monsters looked on with envy. And the Rabbit Demon? Her fluffy ears drooped instantly, and she burst into tears. 02 I was bought by the Bone Demon. Awaiting me was— Breeding with another human she kept? Absolutely not! … My name is Lily, a 21st-century Taoist priestess. I trained at the Ethereal Peak Sect, specializing in spells, talismans, and summoning arts. I can fight! Even my master lost two front teeth to me once. To help my senior sister pay off her debts, I accepted an invitation to the Horror Game and entered this mysterious game space. Win, and get a huge sum of money. Lose, and naturally, lose my life. This time, I logged into an S-rank dungeon called “East City, West City.” My mission: [Capture the Owner’s Heart.] As soon as I logged in, I was trapped in a cage. There were 50 players in my batch. I didn’t know where they were. I only remember— As soon as I opened my eyes, I heard the system’s mechanical broadcast: [One minute passed. 18 players dead. 32 players surviving.] A bunch died right upon landing. My heart sank. Monsters are owners; humans are pets. Were the dead players tortured to death by their owners? 03 A serene mansion stood on Jujube Street. The plaque read “White Manor.” That was the Bone Demon’s home. She hummed a tune, got off the carriage, and carried my cage through the thin mist. Her skirt trailed on the ground like a drifting red flower. She had a loud voice: “Little Monk, look what I brought you? “Hehe, it’s your wife!” She was obviously talking to the other human she kept. I gripped the iron bars tightly, anxious—the system had sealed my magic. I could only unseal it by eating a Qi Fruit. If the Bone Demon forced me to do anything now, I had no way to fight back! But when we entered, I saw an old acquaintance. —The Demon Monk, Shen Yin. The number two ranked super player in Asia! A single lamp flickered. The Demon Monk leaned on a jade couch reading a scroll. Hearing the noise, he looked up. The book covered half his face, revealing only a pair of beautiful eyes and a small red mole at the corner of one eye. Seeing me, those eyes smiled, like peach blossoms dipped in wine. The livestream chat instantly exploded: [OMG, so handsome! I’m going crazy!] [Screen licking mode activated!!] [All the spring colors in the world can’t compare to one look from Shen Yin!] [Who got drunk in his gaze? Me! Me!] [The person above is just drunk; I’m drowning!] [Wait— [So the one tasked to breed with the little white flower is Lord Shen Yin?!] [Ahhh! My male god and my goddess! I’m shipping them and heartbroken at the same time.] [I’m laughing and crying, boohoo, I’m splitting apart…] Everyone is overthinking. We aren’t going to breed. I read the barrage with black lines on my forehead. 04 The Bone Demon was thirteen feet tall, so her mansion was naturally enormous. She seemed to like humans very much and had built a comfortable, elegant mini-house specifically for Shen Yin. Every item inside was exquisite— A bed made of Hibiscus Jade, cool and refreshing in summer. The bedding was soft, silk covers, mulberry silk filling. Lying on it felt like lying on a cloud, relieving all fatigue. The table was piled with delicious pastries and seasonal fruits. By the window sat a celadon vat, with pink and purple hydrangeas floating in the water. Beautiful. … I have to say, the Bone Demon was meticulous and thoughtful. Lying flat like this actually felt nice! But I couldn’t lie flat. The Bone Demon was waiting for me to make babies. 05 That night, I slept on the bed, and Shen Yin slept on the floor. It was peaceful. But halfway through the night, I reached out and touched something hard. A big block! Careful inspection confirmed it was muscle! Abdominal muscle! Whoosh— I woke up instantly, sat up, and was shocked to find a person lying beside me! It was Shen Yin. He opened his eyes, put a finger to his lips to hush me, and pointed secretly at the window. Outside the window, a giant green eye was staring at us! The eye was huge, occupying the entire window, blinking with smiles and anticipation. It was the Bone Demon’s eye. She had put Shen Yin on the bed! After doing so, she didn’t forget to watch openly, waiting to see us make babies. Chat: [That giant green eye is tanking my SAN value! Goosebumps all over.] [Right? Sleeping soundly and then a giant eyeball peeping through the window…] [Hehehe, I’m a pervert, I like it! (Auntie smile.jpg)] [The Bone Demon knows how to ship.] [This scene is both sweet and creepy.] I stiffened, too shy to move. Slowly, Shen Yin’s breathing became even, as if he fell asleep. He was quite relaxed. A full hour passed before the Bone Demon finally couldn’t hold on! After yawning several times, she reluctantly left. Seeing her leave, I rubbed my numb body, hugged my blanket to get off the bed, but Shen Yin grabbed my sleeve— “You sleep on the bed.” With that, he went back to the floor. So he hadn’t fallen asleep either.

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My three childhood friends all loved me. Until the day that nude model showed up. I put down my brush and told her to get dressed. Liam suddenly frowned. “Elena, treat people like human beings.” I froze, not understanding what he meant. Then I saw him staring at the model, a hint of heartache in his eyes. I turned to look at the other two. “And you? Do you feel the same?” They stepped back, drawing a line between themselves and Liam. “Whatever Elena paints is beautiful.” “Even if she’s not painting a person, if Elena paints it, it’s the most beautiful android!” 01 These words made Summer freeze. She stood there, clutching her dress, unsure whether to put it on or not. She looked helplessly at Liam. The man’s brow furrowed tightly. As expected, he stepped in front of her, his sigh filled with compromise. “It’s been said. No need to make things difficult for others.” I didn’t understand. Summer was the one who approached me. She said she’d rather let me paint her alone than strip in front of a room full of people. Besides, she was wearing undergarments. I looked up. “Summer, do you find it difficult to let me paint you?” She panicked, gripping the hem of her dress tightly. “I… I didn’t…” Liam looked back at her. A second later, her eyes reddened, and she bit her lip, looking down. It looked utterly humiliating. “I volunteered.” Silence filled the room. I packed up my paints. “Since you’re unwilling, you don’t need to come anymore.” She looked up sharply. “I, I didn’t say…” I had already turned and walked out. 02 Footsteps followed me. Usually, there were three. This time, there were two. They sat down in front of me. A gentle breeze blew, lifting the sheer curtains of the gazebo. Noah spoke softly, “Don’t be angry. Since the model is gone, I’ll find you a better one, okay? “I saw it before. That model approached Liam privately. She cries a lot, saying her life is hard. “He probably just felt sorry for her.” A maid brought three glasses of juice. I took a sip and didn’t speak. Rapid footsteps sounded on the wooden deck. Liam didn’t even look. He took my glass, drank half of it, and sat down beside me. “Princess, what are you throwing a tantrum about now? “A senior in high school not studying, running out to be a nude model to support her family. I just simply felt she was having a hard time. I didn’t mean anything else.” The image of Summer’s dependence on him flashed in my mind. I pushed the glass of juice towards him. “You drink it. I’m not thirsty.” Liam looked at me, his tone softening. “She was crying so hard just now. She really needs money. I told her she could come back tomorrow. “Elena, you need a model anyway…” I frowned. “Why should I pay for your sympathy?” Nobody spoke. I felt annoyed. I decided to stay away from them. As I left the courtyard, Liam shouted from the gazebo. “Elena, I’ll pay!” 03 The four of us grew up together. It seemed like an unspoken agreement that my house became our gathering spot. When painting, I actually prefer quiet. But the three of them wore me down, and eventually, having them watch me paint became a habit. Summer arrived at the scheduled time. I pushed open the studio door. She was chatting with my three childhood friends. Her small face lit up with excitement. Seeing me enter, her smile vanished instantly. She stood up awkwardly. “Miss Elena, standing again today?” “Sit down. Your sitting posture is also quite nice.” It wasn’t me who spoke. It was Liam. Summer looked over, a blush spreading across her cheeks at a visible speed. Then she looked at me subconsciously. She didn’t speak. Heh. I picked up my brush. “Trouble you today. Full nude.” Behind me, Miles gasped. He covered his eyes with both hands. “Elena’s going for such a large scale.” 04 Mist gathered rapidly in Summer’s eyes. Tears welled up as she bit her lip. “Miss Elena… does it have to be like this…” I didn’t speak. She tugged at her dress, as if taking off the dress she had removed a hundred times had become incredibly difficult. I smiled. “What’s wrong? Haven’t you been nude many times in the academy?” She glared at me. Tears fell down her cheeks. As if I had embarrassed her terribly. Liam couldn’t help but stand up. “Elena, why do you just find her unsightly? Models are raised by parents too!” A wave of anger rushed to my head. I threw the paintbrush at his feet. “Art workers deserve respect. Regarding figure models, art students call them ‘Model Teachers’. what kind of garbage is filling your brains?! “And you!” I stared at Summer. “If I remember correctly, I paid you the full nude price from the beginning. Considering there were men here, I let you keep your undergarments. “Now that you need to do your job, you’re acting coy and crying. What? Did I give you too much, teaching you to be hypocritical?!” Summer’s face turned pale. Tears stopped at her cheekbones. She stared at me in shock. I smiled. “Since you’re unwilling, get out. Don’t treat my studio as your personal show.” “Elena.” Liam chose to block her again. “That’s too much!” “Oh, and you.” I rubbed my forehead. “You paid the money, right? Then you can roll out with her.” 05 I turned and walked out of the studio. Seriously. Art students shouldn’t lose their temper. Limited energy, insufficient blood. Liam left, but the other two followed me. Miles made American ginseng tea with red dates downstairs. “Elena, why such a big fire? It’s not worth it.” He nudged Noah. “Hey, say something. You know I’m clumsy with words.” Noah was looking at his phone. “Liam announced it on his Moments.” “What?” Miles looked at his own phone and exclaimed, “Damn, what does he mean? Is he really choosing a model over Elena? “Can’t he tell? That girl is a ‘pick-me’!” My gaze landed on his phone. Liam posted: [Met a new friend. Very obedient and kind. Preparing to introduce her to everyone.] He attached a photo of Summer. In a white dress, hugging her knees in the grass. Summer smiled shyly and purely. My reflection in Noah’s eyes was expressionless. “Elena, don’t be sad.”

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At my best friend’s bachelorette party, we played “Never Have I Ever.” I raised my only remaining finger and delivered the final blow: “Never have I ever dated a billionaire heir.” Someone teased me: “Every rich kid in Manhattan calls themselves a prince. Which one did you date?” “Upper East Side. Last name Sterling.” Silence fell over the room instantly. My best friend’s fiancé spoke up quietly. “So the girl who dumped Julian Sterling back then… was you?” 1 My vision was already blurring. I struggled to keep my eyelids open and asked Mark, sitting opposite me, “How… do you know his name? Do you… know him?” He snapped out of it, fiddling with his phone as if nothing happened. “Don’t know him. But I know there’s only one Sterling family on the Upper East Side.” “Right, that’s the one.” My best friend, Chloe, leaned in, eager for gossip. “If he’s a billionaire heir, his family must be loaded, right?” “Mhm,” I gestured with my hands. “His family’s backyard has a whole private garden with a fountain. The kind you can host weddings in.” “Woah! A private garden in the Upper East Side? That’s not just rich, that’s old money! By the way, was he good to you?” “Good. Really good. Thanks to him, I finished college smoothly.” “So… was he handsome?” A face as exquisite as a renaissance painting popped into my mind. I nodded. “He could give Hollywood stars a run for their money.” That’s why they say you shouldn’t meet someone too amazing when you’re young. It raises the bar for love impossibly high. Everyone else becomes a compromise. Chloe sighed. “Handsome, rich, and good to you. Why on earth did you dump him?” I was silent for a few seconds. “Well… I wouldn’t call it dumping him. You know, families like that rarely accept a girl with a background like mine.” Mark suddenly got interested. He tossed his phone on the table and jerked his chin at the others in the private room. Everyone present, except for Chloe and me, were Mark’s friends from New York. They exchanged glances and instantly understood. One by one, they left the terrace to play poker downstairs. Only Chloe, Mark, and I remained on the terrace. He poured me a glass of wine. “Tell us more. Did his mom force you out?” Not exactly. With her status, she didn’t need to use underhanded tactics on me. She just… made me face reality. It was near graduation. Julian was planning a trip for us and asked where I wanted to go. I saw a TikTok about Iceland’s volcanoes and glaciers being beautiful. Excitedly, I showed it to him. But I heard him on the phone. His tone suppressed annoyance. “I’m very busy lately, no time to come back.” … “She’s busy too, dealing with internships and her thesis.” … “Stop saying these things. Don’t call me again if it’s just this.” He hung up and turned to see me. The hastily lowered eyelids couldn’t hide his panic. I was anxious. “Was that your family?” “Yeah.” “Should you go back and check?” “No need.” He saw the video on my phone and changed the subject. “So, decided where to go yet?” We had just set the date for Iceland. On my way home from work, a car blocked my path. The window rolled down slowly, revealing a glamorous and dignified face. “Hello, Miss Jensen. I’m Julian’s mother.” I glanced at the license plate. Not something an ordinary family could own. Mrs. Sterling smiled. “Don’t be nervous. I just want to invite you for a casual dinner. I mentioned it to Julian, but he said you were busy, so I had to come personally.” I stood frozen. I looked down to call Julian. “Julian is at a business dinner right now. It’s best not to disturb him with small matters.” One look from her, and two bodyguards stepped out. One took my phone; the other “invited” me into the car. I had no choice but to follow. The Sterling mansion was on the Upper East Side. Through the window, I could see the expansive private garden. I realized his family wealth was far beyond my imagination. In the living room sat another woman. Mrs. Sterling introduced us with a smile on her lips. “That is Miss Vance. Julian’s fiancée.” Looking at the woman who shared a similar aura with Julian. I was stunned, unable to take a step. When did this happen? How did I not notice a thing? Seeing my pale face, Mrs. Sterling’s smile deepened. “What? Julian didn’t tell you? They’ve been engaged for a long time.” “Well, no need to tell outsiders about family matters.” She left me and walked towards Miss Vance. “Is this the one Julian is keeping on the side? She looks decent.” Mrs. Sterling nodded, seemingly praising me. “The girl is quite ambitious. Heard she’s the valedictorian of her class. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have caught Julian’s eye.” Miss Vance glanced at me indifferently. “Heard she’s from a small town in the Midwest? How did they meet? Is her background clean?” “Don’t worry about that. Julian doesn’t mess around. There’s a reason for it, so I didn’t interfere too much.” “Julian’s father fell down a slope while hiking in the mountains years ago. This girl ran down the mountain to get help.” “He left her a contact number, saying she could ask for help anytime. She never called. Later, when she turned eighteen, her family tricked her back home, locked her up, and tried to force her to marry for a dowry. Desperate, she called that number. Julian picked up. Lucky girl.” “After that, Julian started sponsoring her. Until she came to New York for college and they met. That’s how it started.” Miss Vance smirked. “With such a deep bond, I feel like the intruder.” Mrs. Sterling chuckled lightly. “She’s from the mountains; she lacks sophistication. For knowing when to advance and retreat, it has to be you. Julian knows this too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be hiding her away, afraid to bring her out to meet people.” “I don’t care about the past, but since we’re discussing marriage, how does Julian plan to handle her?” Mrs. Sterling remained calm. “Julian sponsored her for so many years. If she knows gratitude, she’ll know what to do. If not, there’s me. I can handle a small matter like this without bothering Julian.” Their conversation drifted clearly into my ears. My chest felt heavy. Breathing was difficult. So, Julian’s irritability and panic were because of this. He was about to marry someone else and didn’t know how to tell me. The row of bodyguards behind me was like a wall. I couldn’t even run away. Miss Vance showed a hint of a smile. “With you handling it, Auntie, I’m relieved. By the way, I bought some vintage wine in Spain recently. You should try it.” This meant the deal was done. Mrs. Sterling smiled, signaling dinner to be served. “Tonight’s main course is fish. It’s the season for it…” They chatted away. I held on to my dignity and excused myself. Mrs. Sterling looked over indifferently. “Since Miss Jensen won’t do us the honor, I won’t force you.” This time, the bodyguards didn’t block my way. I went home and packed my things. Planning my way out. This apartment was bought by Julian when I started my internship to make my commute easier. After breaking up, I had no reason to stay. Luckily, housing wasn’t hard to solve. More than two months until graduation. I could apply for company housing early. Iceland was off the table. I comforted myself. It’s so cold there anyway, nothing to see. I kept a ledger of Julian’s financial support over the years. I’d organize it later. Pay back what I can now. The rest, I’d save up and pay him back in installments. After all, we had feelings for a few years; he wouldn’t be so heartless as to demand immediate repayment upon breakup. What else? I listed the things I needed to separate from Julian one by one. The list got longer and longer. My emotions collapsed when my gaze landed on the ring on my hand. He gave me this ring, promising we’d marry after graduation. I sat on the floor, sobbing until I gasped for air. My fingers shook so bad I couldn’t get the ring off. The electronic lock beeped. The door was yanked open. Julian’s chest heaved violently, knuckles white. Seeing I was still there, he took a deep breath and silently closed the door. He walked in, took the clothes I packed out of the suitcase, and hung them back in the closet. I took them down. He put them back. After a few times, I exploded. I rudely stuffed the clothes into the suitcase. “Julian, let’s break up.” He was silent for a long time, then spoke: “I never liked Chloe Vance, and I never got engaged to her.” “That was their decision, not mine.” I didn’t speak, still packing. He came over and pressed my hand. “Sarah, I love you.” I froze, meeting his red eyes. Only then did I see. His shirt was stained with wine. His face was flushed, with a faint slap mark. In that moment, the pain for him outweighed my own. I touched his face, forcing a smile. “Julian, I’m fine. Being with you these years, I came out ahead. You… you should listen to your family and marry Miss Vance…” He pulled me into his arms, holding my waist tightly. “I won’t. No one can force me.” He choked up, throat bobbing several times. “Sarah, we aren’t breaking up. I can handle it. Trust me.” Hugs give people strength. Holding Julian, I suddenly didn’t want to overthink anymore. Things hadn’t reached the worst point yet. Mrs. Sterling couldn’t convince Julian. So she came for me. I thought for a moment and nodded. “Okay.” “We’ll stick to the plan. Iceland in a while.” “Okay.” But what came faster than Iceland was his transfer notice. I received the message and rushed home. Julian had already packed. Behind him stood two familiar bodyguards. My eyes reddened instantly. “Why are you being transferred out of New York all of a sudden? Is it because of me?” He put down his luggage and comforted me. “Don’t cry. It’s a normal organizational rotation. I’ll be back in two years.” I sobbed, intermittently: “So… where are you going?” He lowered his head, silent for a while before spitting out a place name. I hadn’t heard of it. I searched on my phone. A remote, desolate town, thousands of miles from New York. Surrounded by mountains. I understood instantly. This was his mother’s warning. I pushed him away, trembling, tears streaming down my face. “Go back to the Upper East Side right now. Tell her you accept the arrangement. It’s just a marriage? You can…” “Sarah!” Julian interrupted me sharply. “I don’t care, but you want to give up on me because of this?” We had been together for over two years. He had never been this harsh with me. I knew he was truly angry. When Julian confessed to me, I hesitated too. With our relationship, being friends was hard enough. I owed him more and more; we were never equals. I shouldn’t have mixed feelings into it. But he was stubborn. He only asked if I liked him. He was the gentleman who saved me from danger. How could I not like him? He sighed in relief. “I like you, you like me. There’s no better reason to be together.” I slowly realized that as long as two people love each other, nothing else matters. Until that day I met Chloe Vance. That relaxation bred by money and superior background. I would never possess it in this lifetime. I cried and apologized, “But I really don’t want to drag you down.” He took a deep breath, softening his tone. “You aren’t dragging me down. I always wanted to escape my mother. This is the best chance. I must go. Will you wait for me?” I didn’t speak. “Will you wait for me?” He lifted my chin, looking into my eyes, forcing an answer. “…Mhm.” Red-eyed, he pulled me into his arms and kissed my forehead. “The infrastructure there isn’t great, cell service is spotty. I’ll write letters if I miss you.” “Mhm.” “Stay here and wait for me obediently. Just two years.” 2 But actually, that was the last time we saw each other. One month after Julian left. I received his letter. He told me he was doing well. Although remote, the people were simple and honest, and the scenery was nice. He occasionally went to villagers’ homes to teach kids how to read. [Sarah, work hard, live well, don’t think about anything else. Two years later, I’ll come back to marry you.] Mrs. Sterling found me again. Her expression was meaningful. “Don’t think you’ve won.” “He thinks he can sacrifice his future for you now, but look again in three or five years.” “When those with less background than him climb much higher than him, he will blame you. Blame you for not leaving cleanly back then, for dragging him down.” “You think love can overcome all difficulties? Wrong. In the end, you’ll only resent each other.” I couldn’t refute her. It was almost summer. Yet I felt a bone-deep chill rising from my back, spreading through my body. I forced myself to go home. Someone unexpected was waiting at the door. Chloe Vance threw a few photos at me and asked, “Want to see Julian? I’ll take you.” New York to Cangping was over two thousand miles. Even flying took hours. After landing, Chloe’s people drove us into the mountains in an SUV. The car drove for a long time before stopping by the road. Chloe pointed to the crowd by the shallow river at the foot of the mountain. “There, Julian is there.” I remembered the first time I saw Julian. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, standing at our university gate in a crisp suit, not a single wrinkle on his pants. Such a beautiful, exquisite man, even in a crowded place, was dazzlingly impossible to ignore. And now, I clung to the car window, squinting to identify him. He was tanned. Helping some villagers catch a pig. Inexperienced, he was knocked over by the pig several times. His pants were muddy, his shirt wrinkled. Just as dusty and dirty as in the photos Chloe showed me. For the first time, I felt he looked pathetic. My nose stung, tears falling patter-patter. How could he be so pathetic? Chloe looked on with a sigh. “Among the wealthy heirs of this generation in New York, Julian is the most capable. My dad says Julian’s future achievements might even surpass his mother’s.” “For Mrs. Sterling to sit in her current position, she is definitely not a soft-hearted woman. She won’t compromise just because she sees Julian suffering. I’ll be straight with you: if he keeps messing around, Mrs. Sterling will abandon him.” She rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. “Honestly, Sarah, I don’t want to interfere between you two. But I’ve enjoyed the benefits my family provided for so many years; I can’t flip the table when the family needs me.” “Julian doesn’t understand this. He flipped it completely, but what’s the result?” “He was so glorious in New York, so many people bowing and scraping to please him. Now he’s reduced to this, helping people catch pigs today, finding lost dogs for villagers tomorrow. Sarah, are you happy seeing him like this?” “I have no love for him, so I don’t understand. Is love really more important than a person’s future? If you think so, you can go down and find him. The Song family has no need to marry someone abandoned by Mrs. Sterling.” I braced myself against the window, fingertips trembling unconsciously. Not far away, Julian and the others finally caught the pig. The villagers tied the pig up and carried it back. Julian remained, bending over with hands on knees. Like a bamboo bent under pressure. After catching his breath, he followed them. After a few steps, Julian suddenly looked up in this direction. There were many trees on the mountain; he didn’t notice the car. He turned his head and continued walking. The sun set in the west. I withdrew my gaze and said calmly, “Miss Vance, let’s go back.” “Are you sure?” “…Sorry for the trouble.” Chloe didn’t speak again, signaling the driver. She had gotten the answer she wanted. In the rearview mirror, Julian’s figure grew smaller and smaller. Mountain wind poured in, very cold. The car turned a corner. That mountain village disappeared completely. I closed my eyes, coolness seeping into my temples. Back in New York, packing my things took only two days. Before leaving, I cleaned the apartment spotless. As if I had never been there. Sitting on the high-speed train to Shanghai, I thought the breakup letter should be arriving soon. That summer, everything related to Julian Sterling came to an abrupt halt. For the next six years, I saw no news of him, heard not a whisper. I worked, started a business, busy surviving. Rarely had free time. I occasionally dreamt of him. Waking up, I would zone out. Longing is a long rainy season. In the humid haze, I could never wipe dry the part about Julian. So much so that for many years after, I lived in regret. If only I could have said goodbye properly. The atmosphere sank into silence. I wiped my tears, apologizing repeatedly. “Sorry, on such a happy day, I brought everyone down.” Mark stared at me for a while. Picked up the wine bottle and poured for me again. “Tonight is a truth session. Sarah, drink up! I have plenty.” Chloe glared at him. “The wedding is tomorrow. If she gets drunk, where am I going to find another bridesmaid? Too late to call someone.” “Relax wifey, hubby has it handled, OK? Sarah, back to the point, do you… still like him? Still want to be together?” I tilted my head and thought seriously, nodding. “Like.” Then shook my head. “But, can’t be together.” He’s probably married with kids by now. Besides, even if not, the problems from back then still exist today. I haven’t lost touch with reality after six years. Night wind squeezed through the terrace door crack. Moist, warm, carrying the specific tenderness of New York spring, like a lover’s caress. Warm wind plus alcohol went straight to my head. I soon felt dizzy. In my daze, I heard someone on the phone. Voice fading in and out, with inexplicable excitement. “Giving you a chance, get your ass back from Lanshi!” “I swear it’s her!” “If I’m lying, I’ll call you daddy!” 3 When the alarm rang. My head still hurt. Struggled to get up, shower, and change. Chloe called. “Honey, come down when you’re ready. Mark called his friend to pick you up. Makeup at the studio first, then back to the hotel together.” “No need, send me the location, I’ll take a cab.” “You came all the way from Shanghai to be my bridesmaid, how can I let you take a cab!” I had to hurry, changing shoes and taking the elevator. “Is it too much trouble for them…” “It’s fine, Mark says they’re tight. Rarely back in New York, gotta make use of him—” Elevator descended to B2, opened with a ding. Chloe’s voice echoed in the quiet parking garage. “—Mark sent the info, his friend is waiting in Zone C. License plate Lanshi BM0628, grey Touareg.” I paused. 0628, my birthday. “His friend… is he from New York?” “Yeah, but works in Lanshi. Said he couldn’t make it, but suddenly changed his mind last night…” While talking, I saw the person leaning against the car door. Head down, checking messages. I couldn’t see his face clearly. But my heart raced inexplicably, mouth dry. I hung up quickly. Turned to leave immediately. The person heard the noise. Put away his phone, took a long step. “Sarah Jensen, where are you going this time?” My back stiffened, turning like a puppet with rusted joints. The man in front of me had lost the sharpness of his youth. Even in casual clothes, he looked more composed and introverted. I quietly took off the ring on my right hand. Forcing a dignified smile, I extended my hand. “Hello Julian, long time no see.” He looked down at it, suddenly chuckled. “We know each other well enough, no need to be so polite. Let’s go, you’re the bridesmaid, don’t be late.” He acted naturally, but didn’t shake my hand. My heart felt empty for a second. Unsure if it was relief or disappointment. Taking a deep breath, I got into his car. Door closed, world silenced. Julian didn’t start the car immediately. I pretended to be calm, texting Chloe. [Did I embarrass myself last night?] She replied fast: [Nope. You just told the story about you and the prince of New York. Quite moving.] I closed my eyes. Might as well have embarrassed myself. “Have you been well these years?” The person beside me spoke suddenly. Startled, I almost dropped my phone. Steadying myself, I exchanged pleasantries, pretending to be carefree. “Pretty good, you?” Julian gripped the steering wheel, silent for a long time. Long enough to make me panic. He finally started the car. “Not too good.” 4 The whole wedding, I was out of it. When the bride and groom exchanged rings, someone nudged my arm before I snapped out of it. Hurriedly took the rings out of my bag to bring on stage. Accidentally stepped on my dress. Thought I was going to make a fool of myself. An arm extended from behind to steady me. I turned, thanking him with a blushing face. “No problem.” Julian politely withdrew his hand and retreated into the crowd. Mark on stage smiled mischievously. “Bro, you’re here too?” Julian glanced at him coolly. Full of warning. Mark shrank back, daring not provoke him further. I stood on stage, feeling that gaze bypass Mark and land on me. Focused, certain, calm as the deep sea. Guilty, I didn’t dare lift my head. After the wedding, I was just saying goodbye to Chloe and Mark, saying I had things to do. But Mark’s mom pulled me over to introduce me to Julian. “This is Sarah Jensen. She started a company with our Chloe. You know ‘Glimmer’? The hottest female community platform right now, Sarah built it from scratch.” Then turned to me. “Sarah, this is my godson Julian Sterling…” “Ahhhhhhh!” Chloe suddenly lifted her dress and screamed, jumping. “Ju-Ju-Ju-Ju… Julian Sterling? THE Julian Sterling from the Upper East Side?!” Mark’s mom was confused. “What’s wrong? Hearing his name like a cat stepping on hot bricks.” Julian’s lips curved slightly. “Sister-in-law probably heard some stories from Miss Jensen.” Mark’s mom’s eyes lit up. “What, you knew each other?” “Mhm, we used to date…” “Mr. Sterling sponsored me when I was in college. We often discussed my coursework, mhm.” I interrupted, signaling Julian with my eyes to stop. No need to dig up the past, causing trouble. Julian looked at me, face a bit cold. “Yes Godmother, later I dated Miss Jensen for a few years. When she graduated, I happened to be sent to the countryside, so she dumped me.” I didn’t expect him to be so blunt. He was stating facts. But logically, it sounded like I was an ungrateful woman who abandoned him when he was down. Mark’s mom paused, then looking at my expression, understood. “So there was such a story. I wondered why you delayed your trip to Ning City…” Julian coughed lightly. “Godmother.” “Okay okay, not saying it. So Julian, are you planning to chase Miss Jensen back?” Mark’s mom asked without avoiding me. Too awkward. Julian looked at me and said, “Not happening.” The atmosphere cooled instantly. Mark laughed dryly to smooth things over. “Didn’t Sarah say she had things to do? Julian, give her a ride.” I refused instinctively. “No need to trouble…” Julian grabbed his jacket with his left hand, and my wrist with his right. “Not trouble, I have time.” Heat traveled from where he held me straight to my cheeks. I looked down at that hand with defined knuckles. Dazed, I forgot to push him away. Until our figures disappeared completely. Chloe suddenly reacted. Kicked Mark in the shin. “Hiding it even from me! I’ll kill you, you bastard!” “Hey, hey, wifey don’t hit! I meant well right? You saw it yesterday, Sarah still likes him. If they work out, it’s a good deed!” “Did you not hear what Julian just said? He said ‘Not happening’!” “Psh! You didn’t see him half-dead back then. For Sarah, he hasn’t let go! He’s just being stubborn. Think about it, dumped by someone, and admitting he wants her back in front of everyone? Doesn’t he need to save face?” “But did you forget why they broke up? His family wouldn’t allow it. If it happens again, what about Sarah?” “Not gonna happen! Why do you think he stayed in Lanshi and didn’t return to New York? Just to avoid the path his mom laid out. With his current rank, his mom can’t control him anymore! Hard!” “…You better hope they work out. Otherwise if Sarah drifts away from me because of this, prepare to kneel on a washboard!”

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I texted my boyfriend: “Go to the convenience store downstairs and buy a box of gloves, hurry up.” He replied instantly: “???” “Stop pretending. I just sent you the picture, don’t you want to eat it? Hurry.” He replied: “Are you sure? Are you alone at home?” “If I’m not alone, am I half a person?” “What’s with all the uncertainty? Do you not want to buy them? Are we going to go without? That’s unhygienic and uncomfortable.” “Are we really not using them? My hands will get sticky.” He was silent for a long time. “Are you sure?” “Okay, stop dilly-dallying. If you don’t want to eat, I’ll call someone else.” This time he replied fast. “Don’t call anyone else. I’m coming right now.” Fine, fine, I’ll wait. I added a reminder. “Buy the large size, don’t get ones that are too tight.” My hands aren’t small. If the size isn’t right, I can’t put them on, so I couldn’t help but remind him. “……” “I know my own size.” “Bought them. XL. Coming up.” Psycho, why does he need XL gloves? Just as the message sent, there was a knock on the door. I flew to open it and saw a tall, long-legged hottie standing there, slightly out of breath, holding two small purple boxes. He looked like he had sprinted here. Our phones beeped with a notification at the same time. The handsome guy glanced at his phone and raised his voice: “You wanted me to buy disposable gloves?” I looked at my phone, then at the hot guy in front of me. My phone rang again. My boyfriend, Jason, was still messaging me. “Babe, Julian got dumped and dragged me out to drink. He’s wasted. I have to carry him back to the dorm.” “I won’t be coming over tonight. Probably have to take care of him all night.” … 1 The handsome guy outside the door was the “Julian” my boyfriend mentioned. Julian and I sat on opposite sides of the dining table. On the table sat a huge bowl of crawfish and two boxes of… condoms. Let’s put aside the fact that Jason lied to me for a second. How do I break this awkwardness? Why did Julian throw two boxes of condoms on the table? I braced myself and held up my phone to show Julian. “Look, you both have black profile pictures, and your WeChat names both start with J. Sending it to the wrong person is understandable, right?” “Understandable, sure. But why did you say buy condoms… and say you were flowing…” Julian paused. I froze too. When did I say buy condoms? I looked at the message I sent him. Crap! This stupid input method! I clearly wrote “buy a box of gloves” (shou tao), why did the “hand” (shou) disappear? Leaving just “tao” (condom/glove/cover)? And this… I clearly typed “I’m drooling” (liu kou shui), why did the “mouth” (kou) disappear? Leaving just “liu shui” (flowing water/wet)? This… This is too shameful and awkward. I feigned calmness and explained: “I meant to say, looking at this bowl of crawfish, I’m drooling. It’s an autocorrect issue.” Julian said coolly: “So when you said ‘not wearing it is unhygienic and uncomfortable, hands will get sticky’…” I interrupted: “Eating crawfish without gloves is unhygienic and uncomfortable! Oil gets everywhere, sticky and gross.” … How did this turn into such a massive misunderstanding? Wait, even if I sent the wrong message, why didn’t he explain? Why did he buy two boxes of that? I don’t believe he doesn’t know his roommate Jason is dating me. What does he mean? 2 Julian said, “I’m already here. Can’t have come for nothing.” I leaned back, looking at him warily. He’s a university student; surely he won’t try anything funny. I stammered, “I have a boyfriend, you know.” Julian’s phone dinged. He sneered and swiped open the message. “Julian, remember I took care of you all night tonight.” “Best bros for life.” Me: … “Your boyfriend is ‘taking care’ of me right now.” “Guess whose bed your boyfriend is in right now.” I honestly couldn’t guess. “You tell me.” I figured since they’re roommates and best bros, he must know Jason better than I do. After all, Jason and I have only been official for a month, haven’t met much, and are still practically strangers. Julian didn’t answer. He went straight to wash his hands, then started eating the crawfish. Halfway through, he asked if I had anything to drink. I took some cold beers out of the fridge. We ate, drank, and chatted. The atmosphere gradually relaxed. Julian wasn’t a total stranger. My only two dates with Jason were group hangouts with his dormmates. There are four guys in their dorm, all handsome. Jason brought me along to eat, drink, sing karaoke, and play mahjong with them. I was still curious. “Where do you think Jason is right now?” “If you’re so curious, call him.” I took a sip of beer and sighed comfortably. “Nah, what if he’s in the middle of something important? A call might scare him.” Julian clinked his beer can against mine. “You’re quite understanding.” “Average, average.” The crawfish were gone, and a dozen beers were empty. I was a bit tipsy. I volunteered: “I’ll clean this up. You should go, the dorms will lock soon.” Julian looked at me ambiguously. Honestly, being stared at by such a hot guy, I was a little flustered. I quietly adjusted my breathing, telling myself to stay steady. “He cheated on you. Why not break up? Saving him for Christmas?” “How do you know he cheated? Maybe he got hit by a car and is dying but doesn’t want me to worry, so he lied.” It’s not totally impossible, right? “Dying and still texting you?” Julian laughed. “Just shows he’s strong.” Julian ignored me. He was using a wet wipe to slowly clean his long, jade-like fingers, one by one. Watching his movements, my mouth suddenly went dry. I poured myself a glass of water and drank half in one go. Julian finally finished cleaning. He looked at me and said lightly: “Not wearing them is indeed uncomfortable. Gets your hands all sticky.” Me: … He finally left. But he didn’t take the two boxes. I thought about it and stashed them in my nightstand. 3 The next day at school, in a lecture hall, Jason waved at me. “Babe, come here! Saved you a seat.” Jason was sitting on the inside of a row of three. Julian was next to him, and there was an empty seat next to Julian. Their other two handsome roommates were in the row behind. The classroom was full. I walked over expressionlessly. “Julian, let your sister-in-law in.” Julian stood up and let me sit in the middle. Jason tried to hold my hand, but I dodged. I put both hands on the desk, one writing, one turning pages, focusing on the lecture. During the break, Jason said: “The crawfish photo you sent yesterday looked so good. Did you finish it?” I kept a straight face: “Finished it.” “Okay, I’ll make some tonight and go over to eat.” Class resumed. I didn’t say more to Jason. But as time went on, something felt off. Julian’s foot touched mine several times. His elbow bumped my arm repeatedly. I turned to look at him, but he looked like he was listening intently. But then, he “accidentally” bumped me many more times. … After morning classes, I packed up, ready to break up with Jason. Julian stood up to let me out. Then he suddenly stood back, blocking Jason inside. “Bro, hurry up,” Jason urged. But Julian was slow. Only the three of us were left in the room. I thought about it and spoke: “Jason, let’s break up.” “We were fine, why suddenly break up? Is it because I didn’t come for crawfish last night?” “Shen Li, don’t be so petty. I said I’d come tonight.” Jason pushed Julian. “Bro, say something for me. Didn’t I take care of you all night?” Julian looked at me, tone ghostly: “Yeah, Sister-in-law.” I ignored the teasing in his eyes. “Jason, please don’t contact me again. Goodbye.” I turned and left. Jason’s anxious voice came from behind. “Shen Li, don’t go! I don’t agree to break up!” “Bro, what are you doing? Don’t block me!” 4 I thought Jason and I had broken up. And peacefully, too. I felt that by not exposing him, we both saved face. But I was wrong. Since that day, Jason came to my apartment several times, lingering outside for half an hour or more each time. Begging me. At school, whenever I appeared, he’d cling to me immediately. At first asking why I insisted on breaking up, then just constantly coaxing me. It was annoying. I had to expose him. But he started apologizing, saying he really did get hit by a car that night, almost died, went to the hospital alone, and lied because he didn’t want me to worry. Okay, fine. My problem is I hate trouble. I didn’t accept Jason’s pursuit because I liked him that much. It was purely because he was so patient and persistent. I was annoyed into agreeing, thinking I’d leave when he got bored. Just like now, he was annoyingly persistent, so I agreed not to break up. I only had one condition: stop clinging to me 24/7. I figured with Jason’s looks, plenty of people would chase him. I’ll just wait for him to have a change of heart. Jason and I returned to that routine: officially dating, but rarely meeting, chatting occasionally online. I breathed a sigh of relief.

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Chapter 1 It was getting late, and I had finally decided to give myself to Carter. I had just changed into a short skirt when I saw him standing by his Porsche, same as always. He was smiling lazily at the dorm manager. “Just let me in, ma’am. Otherwise, my girlfriend will worry seeing me stand in the cold wind for so long.” My heart pounded like a drum. I solemnly handed the gift to my best friend. “Chloe, thank you for dealing with Carter’s pursuit for so long… “You won’t need to anymore. I’m ready to…” The words “say yes to him” hadn’t even left my mouth. I bumped into a hard, warm chest— Carter glanced at me indifferently, took a step back, his expression cold and distant. “Hey, call Chloe for me. “I’m picking her up for a date.” Chapter 1 Carter stood tall, looking down at me. The look in his eyes was like looking at a stranger he’d met by chance. I opened my mouth, about to ask. But I was interrupted by Chloe behind me. “Summer, your ID~” She held the gift I had just given her, her voice sweet and thoughtful. “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming back tonight? It’s more convenient to check into a hotel with an ID. “By the way, Summer, you look beautiful in that short skirt~ But it’s cold today, aren’t you afraid of catching a cold?” The gaze above my head was burning. I didn’t dare look up, only feeling the short skirt on my body prickling my skin. My exposed legs were also chilled by the biting wind. “Alright.” Carter leaned lazily against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile. “For our first date, you’re already an hour late.” He didn’t give me a single glance. Looking at the gift box in Chloe’s hand, he paused. His face, which had just softened, turned cold again. “What is this?” Chloe smiled frankly. “A gift Summer gave me. She said—” She looked at me, blinking her eyes with an innocent look. “Why did you give me a gift again? “I was putting on makeup just now, I didn’t listen carefully.” My heart felt sour, and I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. In the few seconds I hesitated on how to answer. Carter reached out, took the gift box, and deftly threw it into the trash can. He withdrew his gaze nonchalantly, wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist, and chuckled low. “Keeping this kind of trash is just a waste of space. “You’re my girlfriend, you have to remember—you deserve the best of everything in the world.” Finished. Carter leaned down slightly and planted a kiss on Chloe’s cheek. Seeing her blush, he took the opportunity to pull her closer into his arms. I subconsciously turned my head away, not wanting to look. I felt like I shouldn’t be here, but I didn’t know what I should do. This weird awkwardness lasted until Carter softly called my name. “Summer Vance.” Two words spilled from his lips, just like before, lingering and ambiguous. At this moment. I remembered what Carter had said before: “As long as I can catch you, I’ll use every trick in the book.” Could it be… He was playing hard to get? Was all this just an act for me? Thinking of this, I looked up and met his gaze. “Summer?” He repeated. Immediately after, Carter’s face was calm, word by word: “We’re going camping tonight, so— “No need to leave the door unlocked for Chloe tonight.” Chapter 2 Night fell. The dorm was completely empty. The remaining two roommates hadn’t returned from their hometowns after the New Year. After picking up my takeout, I locked the door tight. When Carter’s number jumped on the screen, I was packing the love letters he had given me— “Are you asleep?” Carter’s voice sounded hollow on the other end, with faint wind noise, his voice slightly hoarse. “Sorry, I know you hate me calling at this time.” Listening to his gentle voice, my hand gripping the beer bottle paused. “Haven’t slept yet” was just out of my mouth. When I heard Carter clear his throat and say in a deliberately relaxed tone: “I have a favor to ask you. “Chloe posted a photo on Instagram two hours ago… You haven’t liked it, she feels pretty bad, she’s been crying for a while.” Finished. He took a deep breath, as if mentally preparing himself, with a flattering tone: “I know you don’t like me, but—for the sake of me chasing you for two years, help me out with this. “Chloe says you’re her best friend, she hopes to get your blessing.” After his voice fell. Time seemed to stand still. I could hear the slightly nervous and rapid breathing of Carter, who had always been cynical. I stared somewhat numbly at Chloe’s bed, confused in my heart: I didn’t agree to Carter’s pursuit because I felt a bit inferior. I felt our family backgrounds didn’t match… Even though Carter always said, the person he liked was me. I had told Chloe about those contradictory and bitter teenage girl thoughts countless times. … “You wouldn’t be like what they say, keeping me hanging without agreeing, and not wanting me to be happy, right?” Seeing I remained silent, Carter’s voice turned cold. “Summer, you can’t be that selfish.” Tears blurred my vision. Wet the box of thick stationery in my hand. Falling on Carter’s powerful and elegant handwriting, blurring “I really like you” into a black mist. Afraid he would hear my choking, my voice was very light, and my speech was very slow: “I know.” Chapter 3 After hanging up the phone, I picked up the beer bottles on the floor and stuffed them into the trash bag. I opened Chloe’s Instagram. What came into view was the flashy Porsche full of roses. And Carter’s hands full of luxury shopping bags. The caption was: Love nourishes you like a flower. The person who loves you always fears they aren’t giving you enough. Carter in the photo was still handsome and unruly. Only, the love in his eyes was no longer for me. I felt a bit stung. Hastily liked it. And replied in the comments below: Wishing you happiness. After putting away the phone. I stuck a french fry, pretending it was a candle… My parents always said: Your birthday is the day your mother suffered. So I never celebrated my birthday. This was the first time I wanted to open my heart to Carter. I even used the money I saved from a month of part-time jobs to buy a gift for Chloe. … Forget it. I closed my eyes and made a wish. Happy birthday. Summer. Chapter 4 I put away that beautiful short skirt. And a letter. A full page I had written seriously. The letter I didn’t have time to give to Carter. Chapter 5 To avoid Carter, I started keeping my distance from Chloe. I became a loner. Becoming the “outcast” in everyone’s eyes again. Life seemed to have returned to two years ago. The only difference was, although I lost contact with Carter, his good friend still liked to provoke me. Every time we met by chance, he would shove food into my arms with a dark face. Then without waiting for me to say a word, turn and leave. I gritted my teeth and accepted those expensive snacks. Then worked hard at my part-time job to calculate the value of those snacks into men’s gifts and return them to his friend. After Carter and Chloe went official, it got even worse. He directly sent me a brand-name down jacket. Looking at the price, I almost blacked out. When I was ready to return it, I found that this scheming man had customized my name inside the cuff. No choice. I could only give a fake smile and say to him, “Thanks a lot.” Then after class, immediately went to my part-time job. That night. Finally preparing to end my second shift. The door was pushed open. “Hello, we’re getting ready to close.” “But Carter, I really want to eat here~” Chloe’s coquettish voice came, “What should we do?” I lowered my head, pressing the brim of my hat down again and again. Praying they would leave quickly. But things went contrary to my wishes. Carter just rubbed her hair dotingly and whispered “Okay”. After his slender fingers flipped through a few times, I received a call from the store manager, saying that both the back kitchen and I would get off work late. I exhaled, put on a fake and decent smile, and walked forward: “Hello, would you like to order now?”

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I was born a “Butterfly Child.” My skin is as fragile as a monarch’s wing—thin, translucent, and prone to tearing at the slightest touch. When my family’s estate crumbled into bankruptcy, I went to the only person who could save us: my husband, Colin. He was the king of the city’s tech scene, a man who built an empire on cold logic. Instead of a check, Colin took me to a dimly lit, high-end tattoo parlor in the Meatpacking District. He leaned against the leather chair, an arched brow mocking my desperation. “One million for every tattoo,” he said, his voice like silk over gravel. “How much do you need, Maya?” I knew this was his pound of flesh. He was punishing me because I’d dared to touch his precious little plaything, Lexi. I knew my skin couldn’t handle the needle. I knew it would be agony. But I nodded anyway. The first tattoo—a predatory, demonic sigil—was inked into the softest, most private skin of my thigh. I bit my tongue until it bled to keep from screaming. The second, the word “MINE” in jagged script, was carved into the small of my back. The ink mixed with a steady flow of blood that wouldn’t stop. By the time the tenth tattoo was finished, my body was a map of infection and trauma. My consciousness was slipping away into a grey haze. Colin didn’t stay to help me up. He simply tossed a thick stack of bills onto my trembling chest. Ten million Vietnamese Dong. In US dollars, it was barely four hundred bucks. This time, I didn’t scream. I didn’t beg. I gathered the crumpled bills and looked up at him with a ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Colin. This is enough.” Enough to buy my mother a decent urn. 01 As I reached for the last bill, Colin’s polished Oxford boot pinned my hand to the floor. “What did you call me?” He reached down, his fingers catching my chin in a bruising grip. “Usually, you’re so fond of calling me ‘husband.’ Why the change of heart?” The pain from my skin was like a thousand hot needles. I kept my eyes down. For the first time in our marriage, I didn’t look for the man I used to love. “Give me the divorce papers, Colin. I’ll sign them.” There was a time when a single tear from me would have broken him. But Colin’s eyes were cold, devoid of the tenderness that had once defined us. He chuckled, a dry, hollow sound. “Divorce? I spent years nursing you back to health, Maya. I didn’t fix you just to let some other man break you in.” He let go of my face as if he were bored. “From now on, you’re moving into the guest wing. Lexi is moving into the master suite. She’s delicate. She gets cold easily.” I didn’t fight him. I just nodded. I stumbled out of the tattoo shop, my thin coat fluttering in the biting Manhattan wind. I counted the money again. He’d given me an extra hundred. I turned back, intending to return it—I wanted nothing more from him than exactly what I’d ‘earned.’ But through the glass door, I heard the tattoo artist’s excited voice. “Mr. Sharon, the livestream just hit ten million viewers!” The world tilted. The air left my lungs. The shame hit me like a physical blow—the realization that my most private agony had been broadcast to the world. Every word etched into my skin felt a hundred times more painful now. I have Epidermolysis Bullosa. To the world, it’s a medical curiosity. To Colin, it used to be something he guarded with his life. He’d once spent three days in the rain outside a specialist’s office in Switzerland just to get me a consultation. He’d suppressed his own desires for eight years, never touching me for fear of hurting me. It wasn’t until my condition stabilized that we shared our first night together. He had held me like I was made of starlight, whispering, “I will protect you with my life, Maya. Always.” But then he met Lexi, a college athlete. She was vibrant, resilient, and unbreakable. She was everything I wasn’t. In their bed, he told her, “Lexi, I’d give my life for you.” Back in the shop, I heard Colin’s voice again, sharp and calculating. “Did you catch her face?” “No, sir. Per your instructions, we kept the camera below the neck. The ‘anonymous’ tag worked perfectly.” I fumbled with my phone, my fingers slick with blood. I found the link. The words on my body hadn’t been Colin’s choice. They were the results of a live poll. “Property,” “Used,” “Trash”… Filth. I was covered in verbal filth, and the screenshots were already viral. The internet was playing a guessing game: Who is the faceless girl with the butterfly skin? Colin’s shoulders relaxed. “If Maya would just learn to be obedient, I wouldn’t have to go to these lengths,” he said casually. “Lexi will see the screenshots. It’ll show her she’s the only one who matters. Maybe she’ll finally stop being mad at me.” I walked away into the freezing night. My husband knew better than anyone that my skin was at its limit. I could never endure the laser treatments to remove these tattoos. These scars—these insults—were my new permanent skin. I didn’t go back to the penthouse. I hailed a cab and gave the driver an address in a neighborhood Colin wouldn’t recognize. After the bankruptcy, my mother had moved from our estate into a “micro-apartment”—a five-by-five-foot room people in the city called a coffin flat. As the cab pulled up, I saw the flashing lights of an ambulance. Two paramedics were wheeling a gurney out. The figure on it was covered from head to toe in a white sheet. A cold dread settled in my marrow. My hand shook as I dialed my mother’s number. A split second later, the custom ringtone I’d recorded for her began to play from beneath that white sheet. 02 I lunged forward, ignoring the hands trying to hold me back, and yanked the sheet away. My mother’s eyes were wide, fixed in a final, frozen stare of terror. “No… no, she was fine. She was healthy!” I screamed, the sound tearing through the quiet street. The paramedic looked at me with a grimace of pity. “Looks like she swallowed a lethal dose of herbicide. Suicide.” I didn’t believe it. My mother loved me more than life itself. She wouldn’t leave me alone in this world. I found her phone in her coat pocket. There was an open message from an anonymous account. It was a link to a livestream. I collapsed onto the cracked pavement. The pain and the hatred swirled in my chest, choking me. It was me. I was the one who killed her. I found a note in her drafts. Just a few sentences. “Maya, don’t stay with a man who doesn’t love you just for my sake.” “My butterfly girl, leave this city. Find your wings. Find your freedom.” I wailed like a wounded animal over her body. Growing up, my skin was always a mess of blisters and raw patches. Other kids looked at me like I was a monster, something contagious and rotting. Only my mother would hold me, whispering, “You aren’t a monster, Maya. You’re my butterfly. If the world is too harsh for you, we’ll build our own world.” I’d fought so hard to be normal for her. I’d worked so hard to build a life. In middle school, Colin had been the one to fight off the bullies. He’d walked me home every day, even when it was miles out of his way. Back then, he was my light. I thought I’d found the only other person in the world who would protect me. When I graduated, I took the trust fund my mother had saved and invested every cent into Colin’s first startup. I bet everything on him. And I won. Or I thought I did. The day his company went public, Colin handed me the keys to a vintage Rolls Royce. In front of a swarm of reporters, he looked like a god—elegant, powerful, and utterly devoted. “Why such an expensive gift?” a journalist asked. Colin smiled, the cameras flashing in his eyes. “When I was nothing, she sat on the back of my moped and believed in me. I promised her then that one day, she’d only ever sit in the back of a Rolls. It’s time the world starts calling her Mrs. Sharon.” Then he knelt and slipped a diamond onto my finger. It was a fairy tale. The “Gold Standard” of New York romance. I stayed in the morgue all afternoon until the administrator’s voice snapped me back. “Mrs. Sharon, this card was declined too.” It was the last card I had. The man who once bought me mansions had frozen every single account to appease his mistress. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat. I pulled out the crumpled Vietnamese bills, begging the man. “This is all I have. Please, just take care of her. I’ll get the rest, I promise.” The man looked at the colorful bills and scoffed. “This isn’t even enough for a deposit. Look, just call your husband. A man like Colin Sharon won’t even notice this amount.” I closed my eyes and unclasped the gold bangle from my wrist. “This is solid gold. It’s worth at least fifteen thousand. Please.” He took it greedily, testing it with his teeth. His face soured instantly. He slammed it onto the counter. “I called you ‘Mrs. Sharon’ out of respect, but you’ve got some nerve. Don’t come back here with fake gold.” 03 The bracelet Colin had bought me with his very first paycheck was bent out of shape on the counter. My tears fell onto the metal, washing away the tarnish to reveal the cheap iron underneath. A thin plating of gold over a heart of base metal. It was the perfect metaphor for our ten years together. His love had been a lie from the very beginning. I picked up the scrap metal and used my last few dollars to take a cab back to the penthouse. I stood outside the master bedroom. I could hear his voice through the door—lazy, satiated. “I can never really let go with her,” Colin was saying. “If I’m too rough, she bleeds all over the sheets. It ruins the mood.” “I’m much better, aren’t I?” Lexi’s voice was a purr. “You can do whatever you want to me.” I hammered on the door with everything I had left. “Colin! You murderer! You killed my mother!” There was a pause, a ragged breath. “Maya, I’m not bailing out your family’s firm,” Colin shouted back. “Stop using these pathetic lies for attention.” I was sobbing so hard I could barely stand. “I never lied to you! But you… even the gold you gave me was fake! Was anything ever real?” Colin hesitated for a second. “Maya, what the hell are you talking about…” I heard the sound of clothes rustling, but then the sound of a wet, needy kiss. “Colin, stay,” Lexi whispered. “I’m not finished with you yet.” “Fine. Anything you want.” No matter how hard I hit the door, no matter how much I screamed, it didn’t stop them. My agony seemed to be their aphrodisiac. The sounds from the room grew louder, more frantic. I curled into a ball on the cold marble floor, whispering his name like a prayer to a dead god. Colin… give him back. Give me back the boy who loved me. Hours later, the door finally opened. I looked past him into the room. Our wedding portrait hung over the bed. There were two damp handprints on the glass, right over our smiling faces. I knew exactly what they had been doing. Colin looked down at me, and for a fleeting second, something like guilt flickered in his eyes. He reached out as if to help me up. Lexi stepped out behind him and grabbed his hand, sliding it down to her stomach. “Colin, you’re so talented,” she smirked. “I’m only twenty-two. I’ll give you a son in no time. Not like Maya. She’s barely even a woman if she can’t even carry a child.” I stared at her, then at him. “You… you told me you had a vasectomy.” Colin’s gaze turned cold, piercing my heart. “I had it reversed, Maya. I have a legacy now. I need an heir.” The heart he had already broken was shattered into dust. If I hadn’t given him my inheritance, there would be no legacy. We had lost our first baby because my body couldn’t sustain the pregnancy. Colin had knelt in a chapel and sworn he never wanted children if it meant losing me. He’d bought me a St. Christopher charm, promising it would keep me safe forever. 04 I ripped the charm from my neck. The chain tore into my skin, beads of blood blooming instantly. “Take your protection back.” “Maya, I’m not kidding. I was wrong to ever believe your promises.” He didn’t even look at the blood. He gestured to a maid who was holding a tray. “You’re bleeding again. Drink your medicine.” Before I could react, he gave me a cruel, thin smile. “Don’t die in my house, Maya. I’m not letting you turn this place into a crime scene.” I felt a surge of pure, hot rage. I slapped the tray out of his hand. “My mother is dead because you sent her that link! You froze my cards so I couldn’t even afford to bury her!” The slap he gave me in return was deafening. “Maya, stop it! You’d lie about your own mother’s death just for money? How low can you go?” We stood there, staring at each other. The boy with the red eyes who used to cry when I got a paper cut was gone. In his place was a monster with a heart of stone. The silence was broken when a pair of black lace underwear was tossed onto the floor in front of me. They were stained and foul. Lexi leaned against Colin’s arm. “Colin, can Maya wash these for me? I’m so sore, I can barely lift my arms.” When I didn’t move, Colin sighed and rubbed his temples. “Go wash her clothes. Ten thousand dollars for every piece you clean.” “Maya, stop using your mother’s name to con me. If you want money, earn it.” To save my mother from a pauper’s grave, I swallowed my pride. I knelt and picked up the clothes, one by one. When I finished in the laundry room, Lexi was waiting for me in the hallway. “I can give you enough to save your family’s firm from liquidation,” she said, waving a piece of paper. “Just sign the divorce papers.” I stared at the signature at the bottom. “How did you get him to sign this?” Ever since she appeared, I had begged Colin for a divorce, unable to bear the betrayal. He had always refused, preferring to keep me trapped. Lexi shrugged. “I told him I wanted a beach house in the Hamptons. Twenty million dollars. He signed the papers without even looking at the fine print.” Colin wouldn’t give my mother a cent to save her life’s work, but he gave Lexi a twenty-million-dollar vacation home on a whim. I gritted my teeth. “Fine. I’ll sign.” Lexi led me to the garage. “Get in. Let’s go get your money.” But minutes later, I realized we weren’t heading to a bank. We were heading toward the industrial docks. I pounded on the window, screaming for her to stop. A hand came from the back seat, pressing a chemically-soaked rag over my mouth. Everything went black. When I woke up, a sharp pain in my knees forced me to realize I was kneeling on a concrete floor. Lexi used the toe of her designer heel to tilt my chin up. “Maya, do you have any idea how many people are looking for you?” Terror flooded my veins. Lexi turned to the group of men standing in the shadows of the warehouse. “Here she is. The great Colin Sharon’s wife. Well, ex-wife. He signed the papers. She’s nothing now.” She stepped back. “Do whatever you want with her.” The men stepped forward. They were rough, angry. I recognized their uniforms—they were the laborers from my family’s construction sites. I begged them, telling them I was sorry. They spat at me. “Your mother skipped out on two months of wages! We have families to feed!” “My mother is dead!” I shrieked. “Don’t you dare talk about her!” The men laughed, a sound like grinding glass. “If she’s dead, then you’ll have to pay her debts with your body.” Their hands, caked with dirt and grease, reached for me like serrated blades. I curled into myself, crying, bleeding. I was that little girl again, being bullied on the playground. But this time, my hero wasn’t coming. They ripped my dress. When they saw the tattoos, their eyes lit up with a sick excitement. “Hey! This is the girl from the livestream! Come on, boys, let’s see what Sharon’s leftovers taste like!” I sobbed, my sweat mixing with the blood on my skin. My phone, lying on the floor, began to vibrate. I lunged for it, my nails leaving ten bloody tracks on the concrete. Lexi snatched it away and ended the call. She looked at me with chilling indifference. “Give it up, Maya. Who’s left to save you?” She walked out and locked the heavy steel door from the outside. That night, Colin called again. No answer. He opened his GPS tracking app. The signal was pinging from a notorious red-light district near the docks. For money, she’d even go there? He floored the accelerator. As he stepped into the dark alleyway, two men in work clothes brushed past him. “Man, that little bird was something else,” one of them whispered. “Those tattoos… I wanted to sink into every single one of them.” Colin froze. His eyes turned a violent, bloodshot red.

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My husband, Albert Thorne, was lauded as a philanthropic icon. He was constantly “mentoring” troubled young women through his foundation, often providing them with “transitional housing.” At first, I managed to swallow my jealousy and play the supportive wife. But gradually, he began bringing those girls home. They would occupy the guest wing, borrow my clothes—sometimes even my favorite pajamas—and one night, he woke me up at 2 AM, commanding me to go out and buy a forgotten item for the girl in the next room. In that moment, I knew the careful, fragile scaffolding of our marriage was rotten to the core. On our fifth wedding anniversary, I asked him for a divorce. His response was a cold, condescending chuckle. “You’re not a kid anymore, Penny,” he said, his voice dripping with superiority. “A thirty-year-old woman needs to be realistic. You won’t find better than me. You won’t find another Albert Thorne.” I wiped the tears from my eyes, slipped off the simple silver band that had once meant the world, and dropped it into the kitchen waste bin. “You’re right,” I replied, my voice steadying. “I may not be young anymore, but I’m old enough to know when to cut my losses and exit a dead-end street.” 1 After tearing up the divorce papers, Albert Thorne spent the entire night chain-smoking in the great room. He walked into our master suite early the next morning, attempting a placid air as he urged me to be reasonable. “Sherry is only staying here for a few days, Penny. If you’re divorcing me because of her, you need to understand that’s completely irrational.” Meeting his gaze—a look so devoid of warmth, so steeped in poisonous dismissal—my heart plummeted, chilling my entire body. My mind raced, circling back to the countless snapshots of different girls on his phone. Lately, though, he seemed to have settled on a single obsession. The buzz around his company was deafening: he was infatuated with his ninety-ninth mentee, Sherry Greene. He hadn’t just given her an office. He’d customized a lavish private lounge in the executive suite, ordering an eight-foot, custom-made luxury bed from overseas, all to cater to her “delicate needs.” Everyone below the C-suite was placing bets on how long this seemingly naive, wide-eyed girl could keep Albert away from home. They were already calling her the future Mrs. Thorne. Mid-discussion, Albert’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and the urgency in his posture was unmistakable. He grabbed his jacket and rushed toward the door. Before leaving, he turned back to me. “Penny, you need time to calm down. I’ve already contacted my private physician to set you up with a good therapist.” A single, silent tear traced a path down my cheek. I had lived with him in a scorching hot, rickety studio apartment built on the roof of a six-story building during his lean years—a summer so miserable it made me want to jump off the fire escape. I hadn’t been sick then. Yet now, after he’d built his empire and amassed a fortune, I was suddenly the hysterical, spiraling madwoman in everyone’s eyes. My phone vibrated twice on the nightstand, displaying a chain of incoming photos. A taunting message sat at the bottom. “Penny, do you think Albert was just being nice? He says I look like a princess in this dress.” In the frame, Sherry, draped in an extravagant white gown, was clinging to Albert’s neck, a look of smug triumph radiating from her face. My fingertips dug into the back of my phone, turning white. So, Albert had time for a wedding photo shoot despite his impossible schedule. He looked even more distinguished and handsome in a tuxedo than I had ever imagined. We had been married for five years and never taken a single wedding picture. In the beginning, it was truly about money. Albert had made me a promise. “Penny, the minute I land my first big paycheck, I’m going to make you the happiest bride in the world.” “You love diamonds, right? You said they represent forever. One day, I will commission a diamond-encrusted gown just for you.” “I’ll hold you to that,” I’d laughed, sweet and naive. As his business grew, so did his late nights and absences. That cherished photo shoot became a hollow phantom memory. I let out a harsh, self-deprecating laugh, and this time, the tears flowed unchecked. Albert Thorne, you broke more than a few promises. 2 I waited until three in the morning, and the front door opened, just as I’d known it would. Sherry was practically carrying a thoroughly inebriated Albert. “Darling, hold on, please. We have company.” I looked up, catching Albert wrapping Sherry in a deep, desperate kiss. Seeing my icy expression, Sherry immediately pulled back and offered a shaky apology. “Oh, Penny. I… I didn’t know you were here.” Her words were so ridiculous, I almost laughed. My voice was a block of ice. “I’m in my own home. Do I need to schedule an appointment with you?” That one sentence was enough to make her eyes well up. Albert instantly noticed her distress. He slowly and deliberately kissed her tears away, then turned to me, his anger immediate and protective. “Look what you’ve done. You scared the girl to tears. You really are something else, Penny.” I bit my lip, forcing back the burning in my own eyes. “Albert, please… can you stop bringing other women into our home?” He knew I had a debilitating need for cleanliness—especially in matters of the heart. I couldn’t tolerate a speck of dust, or any kind of stain. Yet, he constantly chose to wound me. Sherry, moments ago pliant and limp in his arms, now looked like a startled deer. She glanced at me with timid eyes. “Penny, I know you hate me. I’ll leave right now.” But she hadn’t taken a single step before Albert pulled her back, holding her tight. “No! I forbid you to go anywhere.” Meeting my gaze, Albert’s tone hardened with impatience. “It’s pouring outside. Where exactly are you trying to send her?” I clenched my fists, barely resisting the urge to walk over and slap them both. “I don’t care where she goes. But one thing is clear: I forbid her from stepping foot into the master bedroom. She will not contaminate my bed.” Feeling utterly shamed, Sherry wrenched herself free and ran out of the house. “Are you always this aggressively petty?” Albert shot me a vicious glare, then hurried out after her. The next day, filled with dread, I went to the hospital for my follow-up appointment. The doctor told me I was pregnant. My immediate reaction was: “This child cannot stay.” The doctor frowned, bewildered. “Ms. Davis, your husband has a low sperm count. You know better than anyone how difficult it was to conceive. Why the sudden change of heart?” Against the doctor’s pleading advice, I clutched the ultrasound photo and was drawn, as if by an invisible string, to Albert’s office. His executive assistant cautiously intercepted me, stammering that Mr. Thorne was meeting with a crucial client and couldn’t be disturbed. The façade of professionalism shattered the next second, broken by Sherry’s high-pitched, triumphant laugh from inside the office. “I know, it must be tiring standing guard for them for so long.” I gave the assistant a wry, self-deprecating smile, crumpled the sonogram into a ball, and pushed the door open. The sight that greeted me—a sordid, ugly spectacle—sent a sharp, agonizing shock through my heart. Seeing me, both of them instantly scrambled into a panic. Albert, however, quickly regained his composure, coolly adjusted his clothes, and instantly reverted to his usual impeccably dressed, innocent persona. “I’ve had a bad back lately from all the overtime. Sherry was just giving me a massage. It’s not what you think.” I didn’t want to hear his flimsy excuses. I threw the crumpled paper ball at him. “I’m pregnant. When are you going to end things with her? I refuse to bring a child into the world while you’re entangled with this little harlot. It will be severely damaging to their psychological health.” “What? You’re pregnant?” Albert excitedly unfolded the paper. He rushed over and embraced me, his voice booming with sudden happiness. “Penny, thank you! My parents have been waiting for a grandchild for years. You are a hero to the Thorne family!” I knew Albert desperately wanted children, which was why, despite his low fertility, I had endured the painful monthly fertility shots. Just as I started to believe he might finally settle down and return to our family, Sherry’s mocking voice rang out from behind me. “So what? Just a pregnancy? Big deal.” 3 She pulled her own sonogram from her purse, giving Albert a playful, knowing wink as she handed it to him. “I wanted to surprise you, but I guess my plans got ruined. So, I’ll announce it early! Darling, I’m younger than Penny. I have a much better chance of giving you a son. You’ll let me keep the baby, right?” Albert was so overcome with joy, he looked like he’d forgotten his own name. “Of course! You and Penny are the two women I love! Both of you pregnant at the same time—this is the greatest gift Heaven could give me!” He instinctively pushed me away, bent down, and scooped up the shoeless Sherry. “How many times do I have to tell you the floor is cold? You silly girl never remembers.” Sherry hooked her arm around his neck and stared directly at me, a flash of brazen triumph in her eyes. “Penny, my baby is almost three months along. If all goes well, I’ll give Albert a son before you do. Then your child won’t have to waste money on clothes—they can just wear my son’s hand-me-downs.” I froze, my limbs rigid and useless. I was turning to stone right there. Albert lovingly nudged her nose with his finger. “Sherry, you are always so sweet.” Lost in his delusion, Albert reached out to stroke Sherry’s belly, then turned back to me with a beaming smile. “Now, you two can go through your pregnancies together, sharing tips and experiences. Thanks to me, you won’t be lonely. You even have a pregnancy buddy!” He was clearly thrilled with his own masterpiece, dismissing all the doctors who had diagnosed his infertility with a sneer. He immediately pulled out his phone and posted on social media. “To all the naysayers who said I couldn’t do it—you just got slapped in the face! Next spring, I’ll be the father of two. What can I say? I’m just a humble guy.” Before I had even left the company parking lot, my phone was blowing up with congratulatory messages. The extended family group chat was in chaos. Some fawned over me, complimenting my capability: “The Thorne family’s eldest daughter-in-law, you are truly amazing! Twins in one go!” Others pestered me for tips, hoping to have two children at once. Ignoring everyone, I calmly typed out a message and sent it to the chat. “I think there’s a misunderstanding. Albert has fertility issues; I only have one child in my womb, and it cost me thousands in hormone shots just to keep it. However, the mistress he keeps outside, who is much younger, managed to conceive his child in three months and has guaranteed a son. If you have any questions about fertility, please direct them to her. She is clearly more experienced.” Albert’s parents, the senior Thornes, were honorable, old-school people who valued their family name above all else. They also knew I had been the steady anchor who had enabled Albert’s success. They flew in from their retirement home, immediately ordering Albert to cut off all contact with Sherry. Sherry was instantly terrified and burst into tears, clutching her stomach and crying out in pain. Mrs. Thorne, a woman who recognized a performance when she saw one, spat a furious denouncement. “You little tramp! Our family will never acknowledge a loose woman like you. Take your little bastard and get lost!” Unable to tolerate the insult, Sherry dropped to her knees and begged me for mercy. “Penny, I know you told them. But I don’t blame you. I was too foolish, thinking I could have Albert’s love like you do. I’m not worthy. I’ll go now.” Wiping her tears, she stood up dramatically and marched out. Albert, his eyes full of anguish, chased after her. He pulled her into his car and spent several minutes comforting her before returning, redirecting his entire reservoir of fury onto me. “Penny, go outside, get on your knees, and apologize to Sherry!” 4 I met his eyes, unyielding. “Albert Thorne, did you lose your brain in Sherry Greene’s uterus when you cheated? I am your wife. She is your mistress. Why should I apologize to her?” He laughed, a cold, desperate sound, his eyes burning with malice. He spat his final threat: “Fine. Then don’t blame me for making you a living widow for the rest of your life!” After that fight, Albert moved out, beginning his brazen, shameless cohabitation with Sherry. Every single day after that, Sherry relentlessly rubbed Albert’s favor in my face. A stream of photos flooded my phone—snapshots of them in front of their new lake house. “When I’m upset, he goes against his own parents for me. He bought me this villa to keep me safe from everyone.” “His entire photo library is just me, Penny. He has no room for any other woman.” “The nursery is all set. He says he only loves the baby I’m carrying. He said the other one is just a dog we’re raising.” My eyes burned, but no tears came. I had cried enough tears for Albert in the eight years we’d been together. From now on, I would never cry for him again. That afternoon, I called a cab to the clinic and firmly scheduled the termination. As my body rested on the cold steel of the operating table, a profound sadness washed over me. “Ms. Davis, are you absolutely ready?” the nurse asked, triple-checking, worried I might regret it. “Yes. Please hurry. Every second I remain in this suffocating marriage is a second too long.” As the anesthetic entered my veins, I felt incredibly heavy and tired, drifting into a long, vivid dream. I was seventeen again. Albert was waiting for me outside the dorm, sheepishly handing me a thermos of warm milk he’d been hiding in his jacket. Then it was the first snow after college graduation. All the roads were blocked. Albert and I walked hand-in-hand to the courthouse. He bought a bundle of roadside roses from an elderly couple and swore an oath on his heart that he would only ever share his life with me. Those times were difficult, but so sweet. Within a few years, he went from having nothing to building a commercial empire, finally fulfilling his promise of a financially secure life. And then, he cheated. A sharp, intense pain jolted me back to reality. I opened my eyes. It was over. I asked the nurse for the tiny, underdeveloped embryo. It had a chance at life, but Albert had destroyed it all. “My baby, Mommy loves you. But Mommy needs to learn how to love herself first.” As soon as I got home, Albert called. “Sherry said your pearl necklace was beautiful, so I let her borrow it. Turns out the quality was trash; she accidentally yanked it too hard and it broke. She feels terrible and wants to apologize.” “If you’re free, come over to the lake house. And while you’re at it, make a fruit cake and bring it with you. It’s Sherry’s birthday, and she loves your baking.” Shocked, I rushed to the dresser. The necklace was gone. It was my mother’s last possession. “Hello, Penny, are you listening to me?” Albert demanded, his voice impatient. A white-hot rage flared up in me, overriding my usual meekness. I screamed into the phone: “Albert Thorne, you selfish bastard! Do you have any conscience left? That was my mother’s legacy! My last memory of her! How dare you just hand it over to Sherry?” Even over the phone, I could feel his dark scowl, devoid of any hint of apology. “Penny, who are you raising your voice at? It was a worthless string of cheap beads! I’ll transfer some money to your account later. Buy a new one.” “Instead of throwing a tantrum, you should be in the kitchen baking the cake.” I stumbled and fell, catching sight of the signed divorce papers lying on the floor. “Fine,” I said, steadying my voice. “I’ll make the cake. But you have to agree to one thing.” 5 Albert was silent for a few seconds, then sighed wearily. “Just spit it out. How long do I have to spend dragging myself to your high school alma mater this time?” My heart sank. I wanted to correct his arrogant assumption, but Sherry’s sugary voice cut in first. “If Penny doesn’t want to do it, it’s fine. I don’t have to eat it.” Her feigned virtue was sickening. The next moment, Albert readily agreed to my request. “Fine, I’ll go with you. But this is the last time. Penny, honestly, you’re becoming so childish.” When I arrived, Sherry was already waiting outside, eager to show off her new mansion. “Oh, Penny, I’m so sorry you had to bring it yourself. It’s all Albert’s fault. He keeps saying yours tastes better than any caterer’s.” I gave her a flat stare and tossed the cake in her direction. “Then savor it. Because you won’t get another chance.” A smirk flashed in Sherry’s eyes. “Penny, you’re joking. All I have to do is say the word, and Albert will order you to bake me another one. He makes you look worse than a maid, honestly.” Albert heard the commotion and walked out, immediately rushing me along. “The cake’s here. You can go now.” I calmly pulled out the divorce papers. “Sign this, and I’ll disappear instantly. You won’t have to chase me away.” Albert’s mouth twisted into a cynical smirk. “So it was always about money and power, wasn’t it? I finally see your true colors, Penny. You’re a materialistic woman.” Assuming the documents contained a request for company stock, he signed his name without so much as a glance at the contents. The heavy weight on my chest finally lifted. As I turned to leave, I held out my hand to Sherry. “My pearl necklace. Hand it over.” A flicker of malicious cunning crossed her face. She leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially. “You should have been quicker. I flushed that trash down the toilet ten minutes ago.” Shaking with cold fury, I raised my purse strap and swung it at her head. She screamed, outraged, spitting insults. “Bitch! Old hag! You actually hit me! Albert won’t forgive you for this!” I ignored her completely. She wasn’t worth my attention. But I wouldn’t let her get away with it. I raised my hand and delivered a sharp, echoing slap across her cheek. “That one is for being a home-wrecker and destroying a family the minute you walked out of college!” I slapped her again. “And that one is for theft—for destroying something irreplaceable. You deserve that!” “And this one—”

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“Dad, my paycheck hit the account this month. Check it.” I said, unknotting my tie. My cousin, Spencer Vance, was sitting on the sofa. When he saw me, a flicker of discomfort crossed his face. He instantly replaced it with an overly enthusiastic grin. “Andre! You’re home late from work, man. That’s rough.” I ignored him, my eyes landing on the coffee table. There was a thin, folded document lying next to a remote control—a printout of my savings account statement. “Dad, is that my savings account statement?” I walked toward it. Robert, my father, fumbled, trying to sweep it away, but he was too slow. I picked it up and flipped to the last page. The current balance read: $3.28. I blinked, thinking the ink must have smeared. I flipped back. The most recent transaction, three days ago: Wire Transfer Out: $105,000.00. The one before that, last month: Wire Transfer Out: $15,000.00. My fingers started to tremble. 1 “Where is my money?” I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm. Robert stood up, forcing a nervous laugh. “Andre, listen to your father.” “I asked where my money is!” I roared, the sudden volume making Spencer jump. “$105,000! Plus the fifteen grand last month! Why is there only three dollars left in my down payment fund?” Susan, my mother, also stood. “Andre, don’t get worked up. We were just about to talk to you about this.” “Talk about what? About you wiring away $120,000 without my permission?” I slapped the statement onto the coffee table. “That was my money! It was the entire down payment I’ve saved for ten years of double shifts and no-vacation grind!” Spencer mumbled, “Andre, Aunt Susan and Uncle Rob were just trying to help me out.” “Help you out?” I turned on him. “Spencer, did you use my money to fund your flashy wedding?” Robert grabbed my arm. “Andre, Spencer’s wedding is next month. His fiancée’s family insists on a $150,000 contribution—they said anything less would be embarrassing. We gathered the twenty thousand we had, plus the thirty thousand Spencer has saved, but we were still short a hundred grand…” “So you decided to take mine?” I ripped my arm away. “Dad, that was my money! It was what Sandra and I needed to finally buy our own place and get married!” “You can buy a house later!” Robert shouted back, his voice rising to meet mine. “Spencer’s wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime event! He has no parents, Andre. If we don’t stand up for him, how will he ever hold his head up in front of his new in-laws?” There it was. That sentence. The one I’d been hearing for twenty years. Spencer’s parents died in a car crash when he was seven, and he moved in with us. From then on, my room was his first choice. My new sneakers were to be worn by him first. Half of my birthday presents were his to claim. And now, the decade of my sweat equity, my future, was also his. “What about me?” My voice was shaking, fragile. “My wedding is next month, too. What did you set aside for mycontribution to Sandra’s family?” The living room fell silent. Susan looked down. Robert’s eyes darted away. Spencer cleared his throat. “Andre, Aunt Susan and Uncle Rob did get you something.” “Did they?” I stared him down. “Tell me, Spencer. What magnificent gift did they choose for their actual son?” Robert retrieved a small, cheap plastic department store bag from a drawer in the coffee table. Inside were two generic ties, two cheap dress shirts, and a pack of white socks. “They’re good brands,” he said weakly. I looked at the pathetic plastic bag, then at the transfer statements on the table, and I started to laugh. Tears streamed down my face as I laughed. “So, Spencer’s gift to his bride’s family is $150,000. And mine is two ties and a pair of socks?” “Andre, don’t compare them like that,” Susan pleaded, trying to soothe me. “How else am I supposed to compare them?” I screamed, my voice raw. “Am I supposed to compare who’s the bigger fool? Who spent a decade handing over their entire paycheck only to have their own parents use it to buy status for someone else’s son?” Spencer’s eyes reddened. “Andre, don’t blame Aunt Susan and Uncle Rob. This is my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t get married.” “Spencer, don’t be ridiculous!” Robert immediately pulled him into a hug. “The date is set, the invitations are out! You absolutely must get married!” He turned back to me, his tone suddenly harsh. “Andre, look what you’ve done to Spencer! After we raised you all these years, is this how you repay us? By being so selfish?” “Selfish?” I pointed at myself. “I make seven thousand a month, give you six thousand of it, and keep a thousand for myself. I haven’t bought new clothes in three years or taken a real vacation in five. I work until midnight every day! Every penny I saved, you used to save face for someone else! And I’m the selfish one?” Susan let out a heavy sigh. “Andre, Spencer’s situation is unique. He was orphaned young.” “Just because he was orphaned doesn’t mean I deserve this!” I completely broke down. “I’m your son, too! Don’t I deserve some dignity? Sandra’s family is good, modest people, but what will they think when they see my ‘contribution’ is two ties? What will they think of us?” Spencer sobbed quietly. “Andre, Sandra loves you. She won’t care about the money.” “She might not care, but I do!” I grabbed the transfer statements off the table. “This is proof! I’m calling the police! I’m pressing theft charges!” “Don’t you dare!” Robert lunged for the papers. I sidestepped him, quickly snapping photos of the documents with my phone. “Here are your two options.” I held up my phone. “First, you return my $120,000, every last dime. You can figure out Spencer’s wedding contribution yourselves.” “Second, I call the police immediately, then I forward all of this to the entire family mailing list, your workplaces, and Spencer’s fiancée’s family. I will make sure everyone knows you stole your own son’s entire life savings to buy a gift for your nephew.” Robert’s face was chalk-white. “Andre! You’re trying to destroy us!” “You destroyed me first!” Tears burned in my eyes. “Ten years! How many ten-year spans do I get in my life? I lived like a monk, I worked myself sick, I saved every single penny! Did either of you ever consider my feelings?” Spencer was crying harder now. “The money is already in my account, Andre. Some of it bought jewelry, some was paid to vendors for the venue, and some was withdrawn in cash.” “Then you return it! You sell the jewelry! You unbook the vendors!” I fixed him with a cold stare. “Spencer, if that money isn’t returned today, I will go to your office, I will go to your fiancée’s job, and I will tell everyone that you are a thief!” “Enough!” Susan screamed, a guttural sound. She gasped for breath, her eyes bloodshot. “Andre, we raised you for twenty-eight years. Is this truly how you repay us? By holding a gun to our heads?” “You pointed the gun first.” I wiped my tears away. “Choose. Him, or me.” Robert started to weep openly. “How can you make us choose! Spencer is our son, too!” “He is not!” I yelled until my throat was hoarse. “He’s your brother’s son! I am your flesh and blood!” Susan collapsed back onto the sofa, covering her face with her hands. A prolonged, agonizing silence followed. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall was deafening. Finally, Susan lifted her head. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Spencer’s wedding cannot be ruined. His in-laws are important people. The invitations have all been mailed.” I nodded once, my heart shattering into dust. “Got it. I understand.” I turned and walked to my room, opening the closet and starting to pack. Robert rushed in after me. “Andre! What are you doing!” “I’m moving out.” I threw clothes into my suitcase. “From this moment on, I’m severing all ties with you.” “You’re insane! You are our son!” “You already made your choice moments ago,” I zipped the suitcase shut. “From now on, I am no longer your son. Consider the $120,000 the final, non-refundable payment to settle the twenty-eight years of child-rearing debt.” Susan stood in the doorway, her voice raspy. “Andre, don’t be impulsive. We can talk about the money.” “There’s nothing left to discuss.” I dragged the suitcase toward the door. “My wedding is on the 18th. Don’t bother coming.” At the front door, I looked back at them one last time. Robert was sighing, Susan was weeping, and Spencer was huddled on the couch, watching me from the corner of his eye. “I wish you three all the best.” I closed the door, shutting twenty-eight years of filial obligation behind me. In the descending elevator, I pulled out my phone and called Sandra. It rang once before she picked up. “Andre?” “Sandra,” my voice was shaking. “I’ve moved out. Come get me.” “Send me your location. I’m on my way.” Three minutes later, Sandra’s car screeched to a halt in front of the building. She got out, took the suitcase, and didn’t ask a single question. She just held me, tight. “To our place,” she said. As we drove away, I glanced back at the apartment complex. Goodbye, Andre. The one who always came in second. From today on, I live only for myself. 2 Sandra’s apartment was small—a one-bedroom—but it was spotless and organized. She helped me put away the suitcase and handed me a mug of warm water. “Tell me everything. What happened?” I recounted the story from the beginning. When I got to the part about the two ties, I started to cry again. Sandra embraced me, her voice tight with suppressed fury. “How could they do that? That was ten years of your hard work!” “I want to call the police,” I said. “It’s over a hundred thousand dollars. That’s a felony.” “I’ll support you.” She reached for her phone. “Call them right now.” I stopped her hand. “Wait. Let me think.” “Think about what?” Sandra was agitated. “Andre, this is theft! It’s illegal!” I knew that. But my mind was flooded with images: my mother’s tear-swollen eyes, my father’s defeated posture, and Spencer, seven years old, skinny and small, clinging to a scuffed-up soccer ball the day he arrived. “Give me one day,” I said. “If they don’t return the money by tomorrow, I call the police.” I barely slept that night. My phone kept buzzing. Robert called twenty-three times. Susan called fifteen. I hit ‘ignore’ on every single one. At 3:00 AM, Robert sent a long text: Andre, I know I failed you. But Spencer is truly pathetic—he has no parents. If his wedding contribution is too low, his in-laws will look down on him forever. You are our only child. Please try to understand your mother and me. I promise I will pay the $120,000 back. Just come home first, and we can talk this through. I looked at the message and smiled. The smile turned into tears that tasted both salty and bitter. I replied: Return the money today, or I call the police. Then I shut the phone off. At eight the next morning, the doorbell rang. Sandra opened it to find Susan and Robert standing there. Susan’s eyes were swollen like walnuts; Robert’s hair seemed to have turned half-white overnight. Robert spoke first, already weeping. “Andre, I was wrong. I was so wrong.” “The money?” I asked. Susan took a small envelope from her purse. “Here is three thousand dollars, Andre. It’s all our remaining savings. We will pay the rest back slowly.” “$120,000 turned into $3,000?” I stared at them. “Mom, Dad, do you think I’m an idiot?” “Spencer has already spent the money,” Robert cried. “He bought the wedding bands, paid the catering deposit. It’s physically gone.” “Then you un-spend it! You get it back!” My voice trembled with suppressed violence. “That was my money! You had no right to spend my money!” Susan suddenly knelt down. My fifty-eight-year-old mother was on her knees in front of me. “Andre, I’m begging you. Spencer’s wedding cannot be canceled. His in-laws have already notified all their relatives. If he cancels now, his reputation will be destroyed.” “And mine?” I asked. “My wedding is in less than a month. You gave me two ties. What does that do to my reputation?” Robert sank to his knees beside her. “Andre, I’ll beg, too. Please forgive us this one time. We will make it up to you, I swear.” I looked at my parents kneeling on the floor, and I felt a vicious tear in my chest. These were my parents. Kneeling to beg their own son to enable someone else’s son. “Get up,” I ordered. They didn’t move. “Get up!” I yelled. “You’re doing this to force me! You’re trying to tell me that if I don’t agree, I’m a monster!” Sandra helped them to their feet. “Aunt Susan, Uncle Rob, please. Kneeling won’t solve anything.” Susan stood, tears streaming down her aging face. “Andre, I know we failed you. But since it’s done, please just see it through. Help Spencer. Help us.” “Help?” I nodded. “Fine. I’ll help.” Their eyes lit up with hope. “I’ll help you call the police.” I pulled out my phone. “I’ll let the authorities figure out how to recoup my $120,000.” “No!” Robert lunged to grab the phone. Sandra stepped in front of him. “Uncle Rob, Andre gave you a chance.” Robert crumbled to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. “How did I raise such a heartless son? We raised you for all these years just to have you destroy us today?” “Heartless?” I squatted down to look him in the eye. “Dad, when I was seven, Spencer stole my new sneakers, and you told me I had to share. When I was twelve, he broke my birthday gift, and you said it was an accident. When I was eighteen, he read my private journal and spread my secrets, and you said he was ‘just curious.’” “Now, he stole $120,000, and you say he’s pathetic and needs my help.” “Tell me, who is the heartless one?” Robert froze, the tears drying up. Susan murmured, “Spencer has no parents. He’s truly pathetic.” “Just because he’s pathetic doesn’t mean I deserve to suffer.” I stood up. “Since you feel so strongly that he deserves your full support, then you should focus entirely on him. I don’t need you.” I walked to the door and opened it. “Please leave. Don’t ever look for me again.” Robert tried to speak, but Susan stopped him. As they reached the door, Susan looked back at me. There was guilt and pain in her gaze, but mostly, there was a profound sense of resignation. They had chosen Spencer. They had been choosing him since he first moved into our house when I was seven. The door closed. I leaned against it and slowly slid down to the floor. Sandra held me. “Andre, let it out. Just cry.” I couldn’t. My heart was already dead. 3 The wedding day: June 18th. My parents didn’t attend, but I had Sandra, our friends, and my coworkers. Sandra’s parents, the true heroes, increased their contribution from a small dowry to a generous $50,000 gift. Sandra’s father said, “Andre, we are your family now.” Wearing a rented tux, I stood on the stage, and my eyes still searched the crowd. I knew it was impossible, but I still hoped they might show up. They did not. Halfway through the reception, I received a text from Susan: Andre, I’m sorry I can’t be there today. Spencer’s wedding had an issue we need to handle. We wish you happiness. I deleted the text, lifted my head, and smiled at Sandra. “I do.” After the wedding, I scrolled through Spencer’s social media. A gallery of nine photos, all from his wedding ceremony. The last one was a family portrait: my parents, dressed in their finest, stood next to Spencer and his new wife, beaming with pride. The caption read: Thanks to Aunt Susan and Uncle Rob for giving me a second life. You are my true parents. Dozens of comments followed, all effusive praise. What wonderful people! Such selfless love! Spencer, you’re so lucky! No one remembered that it was also my wedding day. No one asked where my parents were. Sandra gently took my phone. “Stop looking. We have our own life now.” I nodded, but the hole in my chest felt impossible to patch. After the honeymoon, Sandra and I moved into a small rental. Since my savings were gone, we couldn’t afford a down payment. “It’s fine,” Sandra said. “We’ll save for two more years.” I started working with a vengeance. Day job, evening side gigs, weekend contract work. Sandra tried to stop me. “Andre, don’t push yourself this hard. Your health matters.” “I’m going to earn that $120,000 back,” I told her. “Penny by penny.” Three months later, I’d lost ten pounds, but I’d saved $8,000. I put it on a new bank card. On the card sleeve, I wrote: The Andre Fund. For Thanksgiving, Sandra suggested, “Maybe go see your parents? It’s a holiday.” I shook my head. “That’s not my home.” “But they are still your parents.” “They stopped being my parents the moment they chose Spencer.” Despite the words, in the quiet of the night, I sometimes thought of them. Mom’s pot roast, Dad fixing my bike. But the memory of the $120,000 hardened my heart immediately. On the Monday after Thanksgiving, Robert called from an unknown number. I hadn’t blocked the new one yet. “Andre,” his voice was weak. “Your mother is in the hospital. Heart attack.” My chest tightened, but my voice remained detached. “Oh.” “The doctor says she needs a bypass surgery, which is $50,000. We don’t have the money.” “Where is Spencer?” I asked. “Didn’t he just receive a generous contribution for his wedding?” Silence on the line. “Andre, Spencer put the money into a long-term investment. He can’t access it now.” “Then take out a loan,” I said. “You love helping people. Go ask the people you’ve helped to help you now.” “Andre!” Robert started to cry. “She’s your mother! Are you really going to let her die?” “My mother?” I repeated the word. “When my mother gave my $120,000 to someone else, did she think of her son?” “We were wrong… so wrong…” Robert was sobbing hysterically. “She’s in the ICU right now. The doctor says if she doesn’t get the surgery soon, she’ll…” “That has nothing to do with me.” I hung up. My hand was shaking, but I didn’t cry. Sandra looked at me. “Should we go check on her?” “No,” I said. “If I go, they’ll just say, ‘See, the flesh-and-blood son is still the best,’ and they’ll go right back to favoring Spencer.” Sure enough, the next day, Spencer posted on social media: Aunt Susan is in the hospital. My heart goes out to her. Transferred $1,000 to Uncle Rob. Wishing her a quick recovery. The post included a screenshot of the transfer receipt. Again, a flood of praise: Such a filial nephew! Aunt and Uncle raised him right! I laughed bitterly. The surgery cost $50,000, and he sent $1,000, ensuring he got the public credit for it. A true master of appearances. Three days later, Robert called again. This time, Sandra answered. When she hung up, she said, “Your mother had the surgery. They had to take out a high-interest, predatory loan to pay for it.” “Oh.” “Your dad said Spencer agreed to pay $500 a month toward the debt, but he can’t manage more than that right now.” “I see.” “Andre, are you truly not going to intervene?” “No,” I said. “This was their choice. They have to face the consequences.” 4 By the end of the year, I had saved $25,000. With Sandra’s savings, we finally put a down payment on a small condo. On moving day, Susan and Robert showed up. They stood awkwardly at the door, holding a bag of fruit. “Andre, we heard you bought a house,” Robert mumbled. “I did.” “Do you have enough money? Dad has a little extra if you need it.” “Keep it,” I said. “Save your money for Spencer. Didn’t he just have a child? He must need cash for that.” Robert’s eyes welled up. “Spencer hasn’t really been in touch. That high-interest loan your mother took out—we still owe forty thousand on it.” “Right.” “He promised to send five hundred every month, but he often forgets. Last time, he went three months without paying. When I asked, he said money was tight.” “And how is that my problem?” I asked. Robert started crying. “Andre, I know we were wrong… Our life is hell right now. The debt collectors are hounding us daily.” “You brought this on yourselves.” I shut the door. “Goodbye.” Before the door completely closed, I saw Susan. Her back was more hunched than I remembered. But I didn’t flinch. I had been soft for twenty-eight years. What did it get me? Two ties. For Christmas, Sandra and I went to her parents’ house. At the dinner table, her father handed me a large envelope. “Andre, this is a housewarming gift. You’ll get one every year now.” I cried then. Not because of the money, but because I finally understood what family meant. Family isn’t blood. It’s empathy, respect, and placing you first. On New Year’s Day, Spencer called me out of the blue. “Andre, can you loan me fifteen thousand? My wife’s business venture collapsed. I need capital immediately…” “No.” “How can you be so cold? I’m your cousin!” “My cousin?” I laughed. “Spencer, when you took $120,000 from me, did you remember I was your cousin?” “Aunt Susan and Uncle Rob gave it to me!” “And now I am not giving you a dime.” I hung up. Sandra asked, “Him again?” “Yeah,” I nodded. “Guess $150,000 didn’t buy him a happy ending either.” Two weeks later, Robert showed up at my work. This time, he wasn’t alone. He had a lawyer with him. “Andre, we’re going to sue Spencer,” he said. I was stunned. “Sue him for what?” “For fraud,” Robert said, handing me a stack of papers. “He wasn’t some wealthy man-about-town. His wife’s business was fake. They scammed several families out of their contributions and dowries, and now they’ve run.” I took the documents. Spencer’s wife, the supposed entrepreneur, was a professional con artist. She used the guise of marriage to fleece families, then disappeared with the money. Spencer was also a victim, but the documents showed he was complicit in the scheme. He knew she was a fraud but went along with it to gain access to the funds.

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