The first thing my foster brother Joey did after getting his driver’s license was ask to borrow my sports car to pick up girls. I said no, so on my wedding day, he drove off with my wedding car. Amidst the roar of the engine, he sent me a voice message, sounding carefree. “William, I’ll take your bride to the wedding venue first. You can just grab an Uber.” The scene fell silent. I turned to look at Mia’s father, Carter, standing at the back of the crowd. He avoided my gaze and simply said, “William, don’t misunderstand. Joey and Mia already know each other well. It’s just a car ride, nothing serious. Let’s not delay the wedding.” I nodded, then spoke directly to my assistant. “Call the police. Someone just stole a car in broad daylight and is suspected of kidnapping.” “Also, notify the bank. I’m withdrawing my guarantee on that two hundred million dollar loan for the Carter family.” The moment I finished speaking, Carter’s expression changed instantly. He rushed over to stop me, his tone full of negotiation. “William, let’s talk this through. It’s our wedding day—let’s not make a spectacle for outsiders.” I replied with a cold laugh. “So you do know it’s a wedding. The bride just ran off with some other guy, leaving the groom to Uber to his own wedding. You’re not worried about being a laughingstock?” The smile on Carter’s face completely collapsed. “This is indeed Mia crossing the line. I’ll call her right now and tell her to come back!” But after three consecutive calls, Mia didn’t pick up. Just as Carter was sweating bullets, Joey sent me a message. In the video, he had Mia, disheveled, pinned against the passenger seat. “William, look—Mia’s so excited she’s hyperventilating. I’m just giving her mouth-to-mouth.” I held my phone right up to Carter’s face. “Is this what you call ‘nothing serious’?” “Since she has Joey, I’ll make it easy for both of you.” As soon as I finished speaking, police cars surrounded the Rolls-Royce in the distance. Mia hurriedly got out of the car, her face still flushed. “William, what’s the meaning of this?” “Joey was just joking with you. We’re all family here. You really want to send your own brother to jail?” Joey stood beside her looking utterly wronged. “Don’t blame William. It’s all my fault for not knowing my boundaries. Don’t fight because of me.” Hearing this, Mia got even angrier. “See how understanding Joey is? Besides, I gave him the car keys. I was the one who asked him to take me for a ride. If you’ve got the guts, have the police arrest me too.” Since she was defending Joey so adamantly, I’d grant her wish. I yanked out the dashcam and handed it to the police. “Officer, you just heard them. One’s the principal offender, the other’s an accomplice. Not only did they steal the car, they were speeding and parked on a non-motor vehicle road.” “Please handle this according to the law.” Seeing I was serious, Mia completely panicked. Her voice carried a barely detectable tremor. “William, I’m your wife. Are you really going to send me to jail?” I waved my phone at her. “The wedding’s been canceled. Didn’t you know?” Carter stood beside her, frantically gesturing for her to apologize. Mia froze for a moment, her face instantly losing all color. After a pause, she came before me and took my arm proactively. “William, are you jealous?” I didn’t respond. She pressed the car keys into my hand. “What happened just now was my fault. I promise you, I’ll never do something so thoughtless again. Please don’t be angry, okay?” “The wedding’s about to start. Let’s hurry to the venue.” I pushed her away roughly. Staring at her ingratiating smile, my voice was ice-cold. “If you want me to drop this, it’s not impossible.” “The police are right here. Tell them what really happened just now. You know what I want to hear.” Mia frowned deeply, trembling all over. Under everyone’s gaze, she slowly spoke. “Just now, Joey stole the car keys. I was tricked into getting in the car with him.” Since she stepped forward to identify him, the police wasted no time and took Joey away directly. The police car drove off with its sirens blaring. Carter also cautiously approached me. “William, are you satisfied with this resolution? Then about our two families’ wedding…”

I straightened my cuffs and glanced indifferently at Mia, who looked like she’d lost her soul. “The wedding will be postponed. As for the two hundred million guarantee, I’ll communicate with the bank.” With that, I turned and got in my car to leave. After this fiasco, Mia settled down considerably. For the first time ever, she made a lunch box herself and brought it to my office. I knew she was trying to make me happy, to keep a tight grip on this cash cow. But I didn’t care. After all, Mia and I had been together for seven years. Back when my grandmother was critically ill, Mia stayed by her bedside to care for her. The night before Grandma passed, I held her hand and swore I would treat her well for the rest of my life. As long as she didn’t court death, I could let bygones be bygones. But then I saw Joey’s new social media post. That’s when I realized how laughable my previous thinking had been! In the photo, Joey—who should’ve been in detention—was standing in the garage of the wedding house I’d bought. Behind him, my limited-edition Rolls-Royce was covered in green paint. The dozen or so sports cars in the garage, each worth millions, hadn’t been spared either. Joey had even added a cheeky caption. “Now this is living!” Rage instantly flooded my brain. I called Mia directly. “Why is Joey at my house?” She was silent for a moment. “William, Joey is your brother. After something this serious happened, he didn’t dare go home. He’s just staying at our place for one night. Don’t be so petty.” I was petty? I laughed in disbelief. I sent her the photo from Joey’s social media directly. “Since you’re so generous, your family can cover all the damages.” Mia’s displeased voice came through. “William, you’re so rich. Why do you care about such small matters?” “I know you’ve always looked down on Joey, but you’ve really gone too far this time.” I couldn’t be bothered arguing with her and simply hung up. It seemed I’d given Mia too much kindness lately, so much that she’d forgotten her place. Now she was bringing an outsider into my home and actually expecting me to pretend I didn’t notice? As if! After I hung up, Mia didn’t send messages to soften up like before. I knew she was using this method to resist me. But I didn’t care. I called the police directly. “911? Someone broke into my private residence and deliberately damaged my personal property. Initial estimates show my personal losses exceed one hundred million dollars!” Soon, I followed the police back home. Only then did I discover it wasn’t just the garage. Joey was standing in front of my wine cabinet with his delinquent friends playing drinking games. Those precious wines I’d collected from around the world—they’d taken a few sips, then smashed the bottles all over the floor. I pulled out my phone and started recording them. I also notified my assistant to bring people over for appraisal. Joey looked at the living room full of police and waved dismissively with a smile. “It’s all a misunderstanding. This is my brother’s house. We’re brothers—we can settle this ourselves.” I let out a cold laugh and called him by name directly. “Joey, you’re just a driver’s son. You’ve been riding on the fact that your dad once saved my dad’s life. Our family raised you all these years—that debt was paid off long ago!”

I pointed at the two empty rows on the wine cabinet. “You guys really know how to pick. These bottles were ones I bought at a European auction for eighty million dollars. If you can’t pay up today, I’m sending you all to prison!” Seeing this, Joey’s drunk friends instantly sobered up. They waved their hands frantically, trying to distance themselves. “This has nothing to do with me! Joey said to treat this place like our own home and invited us to hang out!” “We didn’t touch those cars either. I have video proof. Joey did it all by himself. He lied and told us he was the heir to the Jones family fortune, and said the Jones family wouldn’t care about this small amount of money!” Before he could finish, Joey punched him. “You bastards, you’re selling me out?” Several of them got into a brawl until a police officer shouted them to a stop. Perhaps realizing things couldn’t be salvaged, Joey knelt before me with a black eye. “William, I’m sorry. I know I was wrong.” “Could you please, for my dad’s sake, let me off just this once?” I said nothing. Since childhood, Joey had always competed with me. Competing over grades, over the number of awards. Later in college, it became about stealing everything from me. Stealing gifts, stealing recommendation spots—I didn’t care about any of that. Even on my wedding day, when he drove off with my luxury car and my bride, I didn’t really do anything to him. But now, all the resentment accumulated over the years finally erupted. This time, I absolutely wouldn’t let him off! “Can’t pay? Then I’ll contact my lawyer to file a lawsuit.” “The sports cars and wines are worth over a hundred million. Looks like you’ll be spending the next twenty years in prison.” I patted his shoulder, my tone light and airy. Watching his face turn deathly pale, I felt immensely satisfied. At the same time, Mia had already rushed to the villa. When she saw Joey’s black eyes, she pushed me hard without asking any questions. “William, you actually hit someone in broad daylight? Do you have any respect for the law?” “The law? This is my house. He broke in, smashed my cars and wine, and now in front of the police, who’s the one without legal awareness?” Mia was stunned. At this moment, Joey grabbed her clothes like a drowning man clutching at straws. “Mia, I really didn’t mean it. I just wanted to show my friends around, but William not only wants to sue me, he wants me to go to prison for twenty years. Please save me!” Hearing this, Mia looked at me again, her tone no longer as harsh as before. “Joey’s just a bit playful. These material possessions—we can just buy more. Why make such a big deal out of it?” “Fine. You compensate for all the damages at market value, and I’ll let him go.” Meeting my gaze, Mia hesitated for only a second before gritting her teeth and agreeing. “I’ll pay.” With her commitment, the police left after having both parties sign documents, citing private mediation. I instructed my assistant, who’d arrived late. “Renovate the entire villa from top to bottom. As for the compensation, once the lawyer determines the total amount, transfer it directly from Carter Group’s accounts. If that’s not enough, liquidate company shares until it’s covered.”

After all, three years ago, Carter Group was on the verge of bankruptcy due to failed financing. That’s when Carter came to me for help. I agreed to support Carter Group. But the condition was that I had to be the largest controlling shareholder of Carter Group. Over three years, I invested a lot of money into Carter Group. Including recently when they wanted to buy land in the east district to enter real estate development—I was the one who guaranteed their bank mortgage loan. Now, Mia wanted to swallow such a huge compensation payment for another man. I could make her go bankrupt! Behind me came Mia’s disdainful laugh. “William, whether you have the ability to touch my family’s company accounts remains to be seen!” She pulled out a document from her bag and threw it in my face. “Open your eyes and look clearly—who exactly is the controlling shareholder of Carter Group now!” The sharp edge of the paper cut a bloody mark across my cheek. The contract actually stated that Mia had transferred all my shares to Joey’s name a week ago. Not only that, she’d also transferred over a dozen of my subsidiary companies to Joey. The seal on the signature was my grandmother’s private seal. I suddenly remembered—before Grandma died, she’d given her private seal to Mia. Back then, she treated Mia as family, so she entrusted her with the seal that could influence major company decisions, hoping Mia would work with me to grow the Jones Group. I never expected she’d exploit this loophole and turn it into leverage against me! “I endured your foul temper all this time because the paperwork hadn’t been finalized. But now everything’s settled. William, you’re nothing but a penniless bum now!” Mia surveyed the mess in the room, speaking lightly. “As for the compensation, we’ll just process it through those subsidiaries of yours. You’ve made quite a bit of money over the years, but in the end, it’s all been a wedding dress for us!” “Consider this your apology gift to Joey.” Joey, looking like a petty villain who’d just won, came before me. “William, the wheel of fortune turns. You’ve been the heir for so many years—it’s time for a change. But given our relationship, I won’t let you sleep on the streets. Carter Group happens to need a security guard. You can start right away.” I stared at the two of them without speaking. Mia waved her hand, and several bodyguards entered from outside. “I can give you one chance now. As long as you kneel here and repent for three hours, our wedding can proceed as scheduled.” The floor was covered with broken glass from wine bottles. Kneeling for three hours would probably cripple both legs. Mia was deliberately trying to humiliate me. Seeing I didn’t move, she smiled disdainfully. “Don’t worry. Even if you become disabled, I can support you for life.” Joey pressed down on my shoulders, forcing me to kneel. He even pulled out his phone and started a livestream, pointing the camera at my face. “William, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and kneel!” I couldn’t hold back anymore and punched him in the nose. Mia screamed, about to stop me. But the bodyguards who’d been standing around suddenly surrounded her instead. In her bewildered gaze, I shook my slightly numb right hand and said coldly: “Mia, you’ve misunderstood something.” “Grandma’s private seal can indeed authorize shareholder transfers, but only if we’re officially married. But you’re an outsider who hasn’t even entered the Jones family. Your actions constitute commercial theft, and I have the right to pursue all your illegal activities.” “As for Carter Group, the moment it lost me as its backer, it was already being carved up. I didn’t even need to lift a finger.” As I finished speaking, her phone vibrated frantically.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “402153”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

In my past life, Ethan fell into ruin because of me—imprisoned, his family destroyed. Before he died, he spat blood and begged me: “In the next life, please don’t cling to me anymore.” Reborn back to senior year before everything went wrong, I decided to grant his wish. I distanced myself from him, endured bullying, and quietly planned to leave for a distant land. Yet when I was humiliated, he watched coldly from the sidelines. When I was slandered, he kicked me while I was down. He said: “An ungrateful wretch—I’m sick of her.” But when I finally boarded the plane to leave, he came chasing after me like a madman. The day Uncle Wilson brought me home, he said to Ethan: “Lily is a hero’s daughter. From now on, you must take good care of your sister.” Because of that one sentence, Ethan took care of me for ten years, from age eight to eighteen. I suffer from selective mutism—emotionally closed off, learning difficulties, lacking even basic self-care abilities. When I was ten, classmates locked me in the equipment room while Ethan wasn’t around, watching me break down. When Ethan found out, he blinded one of the perpetrator’s eyes. For this, the academically excellent boy not only received disciplinary action but was also made to kneel all night by Uncle Wilson. At twelve, I got my first period during the school sports meet. Face flushed, he bought me my first pack of sanitary pads and stammered through asking the school nurse to teach me about it. At fifteen, I was tricked by bad people to a hotel and nearly assaulted. He rushed in desperately and pulled me out from those thugs who carried knives and guns. Back then, his voice trembled with urgency as he struck my palm: “Will you ever follow strangers again?! Running off like that! Never listening!” He hit hard. I cried from the pain, but I didn’t blame him. Because that hand of his was covered in injuries from saving me. He was so good to me, yet I distanced myself from him when I turned eighteen. All because at a class dinner, drunk, he said: “Lily’s such an idiot. When she was little, I thought she was cute and was willing to take care of her. Who knew she’d still be this ‘cute’ at eighteen? If her parents hadn’t died saving my dad, I wouldn’t bother with this burden!” From that day on, I woke up an hour earlier every morning, took the bus to school alone, avoiding his schedule. At school, I ate lunch by myself, no longer joining his group. When Morgan, the girl pursuing him, cornered me in the hallway to bully me, I no longer looked to him for help. Instead, I kept my head down and silently endured Morgan’s malice. I became even more silent and obedient. Whether at school or home, I stopped causing him any trouble. But now he blocked my bedroom door: “Lily, how long are you going to avoid me?” I gripped my backpack straps and ducked under his arm. He suddenly pinned me against the wall: “Just because I said something stupid when I was drunk, you’re going to hold a grudge this long?” I knew his drunken words weren’t genuine resentment—it was because we’d argued that day. Despite my mutism, I also cared about beauty. That day I’d shortened my school skirt like Morgan did and happily showed it off to Ethan. His face darkened: “Who said you could wear such a short skirt? Change it back!” After all, I’d painstakingly altered the uniform myself, and he wouldn’t let me wear it. I clutched the skirt protectively: “Why can Morgan and the others wear it but I can’t?” “Can you compare yourself to her? Don’t you know your own situation?” Actually, I knew he meant that my mental state wasn’t fully developed, I couldn’t protect myself properly, and a short skirt would attract bad people. But in that moment, emotions got the better of me and I scratched three marks across his face. Feeling depressed, he vented with those harsh words while drunk. Returning to the present, I whispered: “Yes, because of those harsh words.” Then I pushed past him and walked out. He pounded the wall behind me: “Lily, you’re really heartless! I’ve taken care of you like a slave for ten years! If I really thought you were a burden, why would I act like your dog? Isn’t what you’re doing now breaking my heart?” Bang. Uncle Wilson’s bedroom door opened. He yawned and said: “You two leaving this early? Ethan, drive slowly and take good care of Lily.” Ethan and I stopped arguing abruptly. Neither of us wanted the adults to notice, so we had no choice but to leave the house together. At the door, Morgan greeted Ethan cheerfully: “Ethan, good morning.” Morgan had been chasing Ethan for three years. After learning they lived in the same neighborhood, she waited at his door every morning. But Ethan always treated her like she was invisible. Of course, except when she was bullying me—then Morgan also treated me like I was invisible. Seeing both our faces tense, Morgan’s lips couldn’t hide her excitement: “Did you two fight?” Ethan ignored her, steadying his bicycle and asking me: “Lily, you’ve decided. Continue this cold war, or ride with me to school?” I said nothing, head down as I walked past him. He didn’t try to stop me either, gritting his teeth: “Fine, don’t regret this!” Then he looked at Morgan: “Morgan, get on.” Morgan gasped with delight and climbed onto Ethan’s bike. The boy rode past me quickly, the puddle water splashing and dirtying my school skirt hem. I watched his cold, retreating back and Morgan’s smugness, suppressing the deep ache in my heart. Ethan, don’t worry. This lifetime, I won’t hold you back anymore.

He didn’t know—I’ve been reborn. In my past life, Ethan married me out of responsibility. After marriage, my mutism grew worse for certain reasons. During episodes, I became paranoid and violent, attacking Ethan with fists and scratches multiple times. A perfectly good professor, his face covered in scratches from me. Yet toward me, Ethan never uttered a word of complaint. Unexpectedly, Ethan’s rivals reported him for raping a mentally ill woman under the guise of marriage. Just like that, the prestigious Northbridge University professor was arrested on rape charges. Uncle Wilson and his wife begged me to testify in court, but with my severe illness, I couldn’t even speak, which only further confirmed the charge that he violated my will. After Ethan was imprisoned, I entered a psychiatric hospital for treatment. When my condition improved slightly, I went to court to clear his name. But by then, his reputation was destroyed, his job lost, and all his pride had been ground away in prison. The night I picked him up from prison, he drove in silence. With his shaved head and ill-fitting old clothes, those eyes that once shone with youth were filled with exhaustion from being dragged down. Filled with guilt, I asked him for a divorce. Then, a car out of control came speeding toward us. Before impact, Ethan instinctively shielded me with his body. He died. Before dying, spitting blood, he said: “Lily, if you truly feel sorry for me, don’t cling to me in the next life. I’m so tired.” His parents lost their only son. Within half a year, they both passed away. And I, this burden, destroyed Ethan and ruined Uncle Wilson and his wife who raised me. After burying Ethan’s parents, I found a deserted place and quietly left this world. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at eighteen, senior year. Ethan wasn’t imprisoned, wasn’t dead. He stood vividly on the table, drunkenly spouting harsh words. In my past life, I was heartbroken for a long time after hearing those words. But after rebirth, I smiled and called my mom’s nominal younger brother—my uncle. I just had to wait one month, then leave the country with my uncle. …… When I arrived at school, first period hadn’t started yet. Morgan sat on Ethan’s lap, the two sharing a cookie, incredibly intimate. Classmates around them teased: “Congratulations to campus beauty Morgan—after three years of pursuit, you finally caught the top student.” “I always said Lily was bad luck—killed her parents and cursed Ethan. Now that the idiot’s away from Ethan, he and Morgan finally got together!” “Ethan, you won’t protect Lily anymore, right?” “Then we…” Morgan’s girlfriends glanced at me with sinister glee, their intent to torment clear as day. Since freshman year, Morgan had been jealous of my relationship with Ethan, constantly undermining me openly and covertly, even bullying me when Ethan wasn’t around. Their malicious stares pierced me. I couldn’t help shrinking back, instinctively looking toward Ethan. But Ethan’s words were brief and cruel: “Don’t go too far. I have to answer to my parents.” I kept my head down and quickly passed through that crowd of malicious gazes, only to see my desk piled with garbage—sticky soy sauce mixed with moldy bread firmly stuck to the surface. People around me snickered. I felt lost, frozen for a long time before starting to clean it up. I heard Morgan say: “Ethan, you don’t feel sorry for her, do you? You always protected her before. Now you’re my boyfriend. I won’t allow you to be soft-hearted toward other girls, even an adopted sister!” Ethan said indulgently: “What adopted sister? Just an ungrateful wretch who can’t even speak properly. I’m sick of her.” My hand paused. My heart felt a faint numbness. Morgan’s beautiful, delicate shoes appeared in my vision. Crash! Dirty, sticky garbage was swept onto my head. Frightened, I fell to the ground, helplessly wiping at my hair covered in soy sauce and mold. The surrounding students laughed louder. I looked up indignantly, but what awaited me was Morgan’s heavy slap. “Try looking at me like that again.” Morgan’s delicate face filled with mockery. “Lily, you haven’t eaten yet, have you? Let your sister-in-law treat you to breakfast.” Two male classmates pinned my hands behind my back. I knelt humiliatingly in that pile of garbage, sharp glass shards piercing my knees. “Ah, it hurts…” Morgan grabbed that ball of black moldy bread and tried to shove it in my mouth. I struggled but couldn’t break free, biting my lips tightly, my face covered in the garbage’s soy sauce and mold: “Mmph!” Years of habit made me instinctively look toward Ethan. A flash of reluctance crossed the boy’s brow. He mouthed: “Just give in and I’ll save you.” He permitted Morgan to hurt me, waiting for me to beg him for help. I withdrew the tears from my eyes and suddenly rammed into Morgan’s stomach. “Morgan!” Ethan caught the off-balance Morgan in alarm. Just then, the homeroom teacher’s voice rang out: “What’s going on here?”

The homeroom teacher seemed like a lifeline to me. Seeing the filth on my face, she asked sternly: “Who’s openly bullying a classmate in class? Morgan, was it you?” Morgan rolled her eyes, clutching her stomach: “Teacher, you can’t favor Lily just because she’s sick. She’s the one who rammed into me.” Seeing Morgan’s pain didn’t seem faked, the teacher looked at me critically: “Lily, you explain.” But I’m naturally mute. Except when facing Ethan and his parents when I can communicate normally, when interacting with others, being able to say ten words in a sentence is already good. I stammered: “It’s not, I… I…” The powerlessness of being unable to defend myself made me anxious. Just then, Ethan stepped forward and said: “Teacher, let me explain.” Like a beam of light shining on me, I looked at Ethan hopefully, thinking he would give me justice. But Ethan said: “Lily had an episode this morning and made a mess of her own desk. Morgan kindly tried to help, but she not only wouldn’t listen, she rammed Morgan with her head.” His tone was lazy: “That’s what happened. No one bullied Lily. She attacked someone while sick.” In an instant, my mind went blank. He knew full well that when facing false accusations, I had no ability to defend myself. Yet now, he cruelly threw dirty water on me. The teacher was disappointed: “Lily, you’ve let me down! Go stand in the hallway and reflect on yourself!” The teacher’s criticism stung. I stared blankly at Ethan, lips trembling: “Why?” He didn’t give me any look, carrying Morgan to the infirmary. Only when passing me did he raise his eyes: “The teacher told you to go stand in the hallway. What, didn’t understand?” My heart throbbed with dull pain. Ethan, my knees are bleeding. Can’t you see? After class, the crowded hallway was full of malicious stares. “Look at her face, so disgusting!” “Doesn’t it look like a pile of shit stuck to her face?” The mockery was endless. Someone even picked up the disgusting bread from my desk and threw it at me. I trembled all over, completely breaking down. My condition felt like a flood about to breach the dam, ready to become hysterical any moment. I didn’t want to hurt others during an episode, so I shakily fumbled through my bag for my medicine. Finally finding it, someone snatched it away. “Give it back!” I looked up sharply to see Morgan’s mocking expression. And Ethan stood beside her, not stopping her. I stood up and rushed toward Morgan, only wanting to get the medicine back. But Ethan instinctively kicked me away, as if I were some uncontrolled wild dog: “You want to hurt people again?” His force wasn’t great, but that kick shattered my heart. Seeing me fall, Ethan looked away with reluctance: “Lily, if you apologize to Morgan, I’ll have her return your medicine. After all, you were in the wrong first. She’s doing this just to get your apology.” He wasn’t someone who couldn’t tell right from wrong. Who was at fault—he knew perfectly well. Ethan was doing this just to force me to give in. He was so excessive, yet I didn’t even have the right to hate him. After all, I truly owed him my life. Thinking of what I owed him in my past life, I stood up and left dejectedly: “I won’t take it.” The boy’s footsteps moved forward unconsciously, but ultimately pride won out and he didn’t chase after me. I went to clean the filth from my body, trying to make myself somewhat presentable. Just as I’d finished washing my face, Morgan came over twirling her delicate hair. “What spell did you cast on Ethan to make him care about you so much? Eagerly sending me to bring you medicine.” I didn’t want conflict with her, but she blocked my way: “Hey, you’re usually so quiet, but today you dared to ram me with your head?” Morgan was angry about my resistance today. I looked up, meeting her eyes directly: “I’m not afraid of you anymore.” In my past life I feared her, endured her bullying without telling anyone, because I didn’t want to cause trouble for the Wilson family. Morgan sneered: “Is that so?” She handed me the medicine: “I’m done teasing you. Here.” I reached for the medicine, but in the next moment, Morgan suddenly grabbed my hand and dragged it across her own face, falling to the ground pitifully: “Lily, I kindly brought your medicine back to improve our relationship. Why did you hit me?” Absurd. I didn’t understand why she did this and was about to leave when I suddenly saw Ethan’s disappointed gaze.

“Lily!” Ethan stood at the bathroom door, fists clenched: “You’re angry at me—why hurt someone else?” I panicked, finally understanding I’d been set up by Morgan. “Ethan, is this who I am in your eyes?” Being wrongly accused by others, I felt nothing. Being misunderstood by him, my heart felt like it was being cut. Yet I didn’t even have the right to blame him. I walked past him. He grabbed my wrist: “Illness isn’t an excuse for immunity. Apologize to Morgan.” His grip was strong. I couldn’t break free, my heart covered in grievance: “She slandered me. Why do you only believe her and not me?” “Whether it’s slander, you know in your heart!” Ethan’s voice was warm with anger. “Besides me, no one will indulge you!” He turned his head. On his fair neck remained the scratches from our previous argument, confirming the evidence that I liked to scratch people. Reminding me of the past life’s Ethan, who would always hold me tightly during my episodes, constantly apologizing, saying he hadn’t taken good care of me. Yet I would frantically drag my sharp nails across his face, again and again. Outsiders all laughed that Professor Wilson was henpecked, married to a fierce wife. But he never spoke a bad word about me to outsiders. “I won’t apologize.” I could apologize to Ethan, even kneel and kowtow. But I wouldn’t apologize to Morgan. Ethan gritted his teeth: “Fine, you asked for this.” He restrained both my hands behind my back: “Morgan, however many times she hit you, you pay back tenfold.” Boom! Prolonged ringing made my consciousness hazy. I looked at the boy before me in shock. His expression was serious, not joking at all. Until Morgan’s slaps fell like sudden rain. One, two… “Ah!” The burning pain on my face and the humiliation of being slapped left me breathless. Morgan hit even harder. After ten slaps, Ethan didn’t give me another glance. He tenderly took Morgan’s hand: “Does your hand hurt?” Morgan smiled and linked arms with him: “It doesn’t hurt.” “That’s good.” I stood there for a long time before forcing my injured mouth into a smile: Ethan, you didn’t need to restrain me. Because I wouldn’t have fought back. After school that day, Ethan and I went home separately. Uncle Wilson anxiously watched at the door. Seeing me finally return with injuries on my face, he criticized Ethan: “What dinner? You didn’t even notice your sister was being bullied?” Aunt Wilson asked with concern: “Lily, did you fight with your brother? Why haven’t you been coming home together these past few days? Is someone bullying you at school?” Ethan said coldly: “She had an episode and hit herself. She’s so fierce—who would dare bully her?” “Kneel down!” Uncle Wilson was furious. “I told you to take good care of your sister. Is this how you take care of her?” Ethan threw down his chopsticks and walked to the living room to kneel: “She doesn’t need me. Stop being presumptuous!” He rarely defied his elders like this. It made Uncle Wilson raise his hand to slap him. I spoke up to stop him: “Brother’s right. I hit myself. I’m tired and want to go upstairs to rest.” Hearing this, Ethan’s bowed head lifted, his gaze complex as he looked at me. Aunt Wilson sighed: “Ethan, you know Lily’s condition. When there are conflicts, you need to accommodate her more.” “Haven’t I accommodated her enough? Can’t she feel sorry for me even once?” Uncle Wilson said helplessly: “Stubborn boy! If you don’t treasure your time with Lily now, you’ll regret it eventually! Do you know she’ll soon…” “Uncle Wilson!” I stood at the stairs, interrupting him. Uncle Wilson held it in uncomfortably, but ultimately didn’t tell Ethan I was leaving. But how smart was Ethan? That night, he came into my bedroom carrying hot milk. This had been his habit for ten years—heating me a cup of milk before bed. But since we started our cold war, I hadn’t drunk hot milk. “Lily, you’re hiding something from me.” A declarative sentence. My tone was stiff as I turned away: “No.” He turned my face back, leaning close: “How long are you going to keep this up with me? You think I felt good treating you like that today?” His intimate breath brushed my face. I blushed and dodged: “I need to sleep.” Ethan’s throat moved. After looking around, his gaze landed precisely on a suitcase. He walked over. I panicked—inside that suitcase were all my documents for going abroad! I grabbed his hand. Ethan’s face darkened as he met my eyes: “Move.” I knew if he was determined to look, I couldn’t stop him. Fortunately, Morgan’s voice came from downstairs: “Ethan! Ethan!” Without thinking, he turned and left.

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In the third year of our long-distance relationship, I stumbled upon Ethan’s alternate account. In his post, he shared a story about being saved during his youth. At the end, he asked in distress: [What should I do if I can’t forget my first love? It’s seriously affecting my feelings for my girlfriend.] The comments section had criticism and mockery. Some offered advice too. One comment said: [Sleep with your first love once, and you’ll realize she’s nothing special.] Ethan didn’t reply, but he liked the comment. 0 When I received Ethan’s message. My mind was still stuck on the post I’d just seen. My heart felt like it was blocked by a stone, heavy and suffocating. Ethan sent me several photos. “Had a team dinner today, happened to come to that trendy restaurant you mentioned before.” “The food’s pretty good. I’ll bring you here next time.” Coming back to my senses, I called Ethan. His voice carried a smile. “Serena? What’s up?” “There’s a long weekend coming up. Are you coming back?” Ethan hesitated for a few seconds. “I have work commitments this holiday. I won’t be able to keep you company.” My heart sank a little more. I changed the subject. “Who are you having dinner with?” He paused on the other end. “Company employees, three or four people.” The dishes in the photos looked exquisite and delicious. The portions weren’t much—not enough for one person to finish, but too little if there were many people. Just right for two. I asked jokingly, “Is that enough food? You’re not on a date with someone else, are you?” Ethan sounded a bit helpless. Even without seeing him, I could imagine him frowning. “What are you overthinking now?” “Do you need me to put someone on the phone to prove it to you?” Long-distance relationships severely lack security. Over these years, no matter how much I checked up on him, I never involved other people. As long as Ethan said something, I believed him. But this time was different. I picked up my cold tea and took a sip. “Sure.” The phone went silent. A light, cheerful female voice came through, growing closer. “Ethan, I won a couples bracelet in the lucky draw. Help me put it on.” Ethan coughed uncomfortably, his words coming fast and urgent. “Didn’t you want to go to the beach? You can go with friends. I’ll reimburse you.” “I’ve got something to deal with here. I’ll contact you later.” The implication was clear. He wasn’t coming back, and he didn’t want me to visit him either. Ethan had always been generous with me. Almost as soon as he hung up, he transferred money to me. I stared at the dark screen for a while. Suddenly I remembered that when I saw restaurant recommendations recently, one mentioned giving a mystery box gift for good reviews. My fingers moved, opening a review app. The latest review was from ten minutes ago. [My boyfriend took time out of his busy schedule to bring me here! Love it.] The photos matched the ones Ethan sent me exactly. The last picture. It was a girl’s selfie, smiling brightly, intimately holding onto an arm. I couldn’t sleep that night. Following that review’s user ID, I found her account on another social platform. There wasn’t much content, but the contrast was stark. In the past, everything was full of complaints. Rent was too expensive, neighbors too noisy, working part-time was exhausting, her boss was always picking on her. In the photos she posted, you could vaguely see peeling, moldy walls in her place. Crumpled dresses piled on a worn-out sofa. Until a month ago. She moved into a high-end apartment, spacious and bright, elegant and grand. Her closet was filled with all kinds of clothes, plus several expensive handbags. The boxed lunches from before became various Japanese cuisine, Western food, and specialty restaurants. In the scattered comments, someone asked if she’d struck it rich. [I ran into a neighbor boy from before. He’s doing really well now.] [Wow! A reunion romance with a younger guy?] She replied with a shy emoji. As dawn approached, I booked a ticket on the earliest flight. 0

In the departure lounge. My best friend called, her tone dejected. “What do you think someone’s doing when they don’t reply to messages? Are there still people who don’t check their phones all day?” I looked at my chat window with Ethan. The screen full of green bubbles, occasionally getting a few words in response. I thought for a moment and said, “People have a desire to share. If they’re not sharing with you, they’re sharing with someone else.” “If he can resist contacting you, it means you’re not that important.” The airport announcement happened to come on. My friend asked where I was going. I told her the truth. Her emotions came and went quickly, her tone teasing. “You and Ethan are so far apart, north and south, and you still want to stick together during a two-day weekend. I’m kind of jealous.” I opened my mouth. My explanation turned into a lie. “I’m not going to see him. It’s a last-minute business trip.” From freshman year until now, a full seven years. This relationship took up a huge part of my life. Even at this moment, I was still covering for Ethan. Even trying to convince myself. Attributing all suspicions to coincidence. I’d been to Ethan’s place many times. But this time I stood at the door for a long while before entering the passcode. Very subtle changes, but I noticed them at a glance. There was a small succulent on the balcony, a blanket on the sofa. The refrigerator that was always empty whenever I visited was now filled with vegetables and fruit. Plus several boxes of yogurt in different flavors. I sat in the lounge chair on the balcony, scrolling through chat records with Ethan. They seemed endlessly long. In my heart, the process of falling in love was extremely precious. In our second year together, my phone mysteriously went black. After getting it fixed, I discovered that more than half our chat history was gone. I tried many methods but couldn’t recover it. I was so sad and heartbroken. Ethan held me and comforted me for a long time. “If it’s lost, forget about it. We see each other every day anyway, and we’ll always be together in the future.” That’s what he said. But from that day on, he sent hundreds of messages daily, as if to make up for what was lost. Later, when I got a new phone, the first thing I did was back up our chat history. Back then, every line was filled with obvious love. From far away, it gradually, bit by bit, became shallow. All those overlooked things suddenly surged into my heart. Ethan’s initial active updates, squeezing out time during busy moments to video call. His endless sharing turned into “I’m busy,” “in a meeting,” “eating,” “sleeping.” Perfunctory. Mechanical. Recently, our contact had been sparse. The waiting time felt exceptionally long. Two hours later. Sounds came from the entrance. The curtains were half-drawn. I didn’t make a sound, quietly watching the two people entering. Ethan was carrying several shopping bags, bending down to change his shoes. The girl kicked off her shoes carelessly and jumped onto his back. “I’m exhausted from shopping all morning. My legs are so sore. Help me massage them.” Ethan held one hand behind him, steadily setting her down on the sofa. The motion was so natural, as if he’d done it many times. “You’re the one who wanted to go shopping, and you’re the one complaining about being tired.” He sat down next to her. “Where does it hurt?” The girl raised her hand and pointed, smiling as she placed her feet on Ethan’s lap. Her skirt rode up. Ethan lowered his head, gently kneading and pressing. He’d ask from time to time if it hurt, his expression full of affection. The silver bracelet on his wrist gleamed painfully bright. “I don’t want to go home today. Will you let me stay?” From my angle, I could see the fondness and attachment in the girl’s eyes. The ambiguous atmosphere gradually fermented. Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his lips parting slightly. I finally couldn’t help but speak. “Ethan.” 0

Time seemed to freeze. The girl looked over in shock, meeting my gaze without any evasion. Ethan stiffly turned around slowly, forcing out a smile. “Serena, how did you get here?” After saying it, he probably realized his tone was stiff and softened a bit. “Why didn’t you tell me in advance? I would have picked you up.” I didn’t say anything. The atmosphere became somewhat awkward for a moment. Ethan walked over, grabbing my hand to explain. “Don’t misunderstand. This is Tara. She helped me pick out gifts for business partners today.” I smiled. “Being a boss isn’t easy for you. You even have to give your employees massages.” Ethan looked at my expression, maintaining surface composure as he told Tara to leave. “Thank you for today. You can go home now.” Tara bit her lip, her tone dejected. “Alright, Mr. Miller. I won’t disturb you two then.” Only the two of us remained in the room. Ethan crouched in front of me, his words sincere. “Tara’s used to being casual. I forgot myself for a moment. Even if you hadn’t come today, I wouldn’t have let her stay.” I stared at him for a few seconds. “I’m a bit hungry.” Ethan exhaled, relaxing considerably. He ruffled my hair. “Then I’ll take you to eat. What do you want?” “Hot pot.” When we reached the entrance, Ethan’s footsteps suddenly stopped. “Let me change clothes. Can you wait a moment?” I nodded. Ethan quickly walked into the master bedroom. Click—a soft sound as the door locked from inside. I suddenly realized that changing clothes might just be an excuse. There was probably something he needed to hide that he didn’t want me to see. Twenty minutes later. Ethan came out changed, the bracelet on his wrist gone. He was as considerate as ever. The dishes he ordered were all my favorites, and the sauce he mixed for me suited my taste perfectly. Ethan barely ate, several times probing my intentions for coming. He thought my sudden appearance was due to distrust. What used to be a pleasant surprise was now suspicion. “We’ve been together for so many years. Do you really think I’m that unreliable?” Seeing my silence, his patience ran out. “Serena, I think we need a different way of getting along.” “Like when we’re apart, we can be like friends. That way everyone will be more relaxed.” I heard this less than an hour after we met. After staying up all night and traveling over two thousand kilometers. Actually, I was very tired, physically and mentally exhausted. Ethan said the daily check-ins and video calls made him feel very tired. The occasional missed contact, the screen full of messages and missed calls made him feel oppressed. He even felt love was being worn away bit by bit. “Serena, I love you. I want to marry you and start a family. Life is still long. Can’t we save our love for later?” Ethan’s gaze was very calm. A kind of helpless yet unavoidable weariness. It made me feel like my love was a burden, that even loving him was wrong. “Okay.” Ethan didn’t react. I looked into his eyes and repeated, “I think what you said makes sense.” Just like that, we seemed to reach some kind of consensus. But I knew clearly this relationship should end. That night, I made up a random excuse to sleep in the guest room. Ethan didn’t ask much. At the crack of dawn, I was woken by some commotion. Opening the door, Ethan was on the phone in the living room. “Don’t be nervous. We’ll see each other soon.” “If you’re not used to wearing heels, you can hold them and change at the hotel.” In a suit and tie, refined and elegant. Hearing the noise, he hung up. “Did I wake you?” “A friend’s getting married today. I’m a groomsman, so I need to head over early.” An unexpected kiss landed on my forehead. “Get some more sleep. I’ll come back to keep you company once things are done there.” 0

“I’ll go with you. Soak up some wedding joy.” Ethan froze, his expression somewhat unnatural. I lowered my eyes, adjusting his tie. “Not convenient? Or do you not want people to know you have a girlfriend?” Ethan sighed, probably thinking I was being unreasonable again. “I might not have time to keep you company. You don’t know any of those people. I’m afraid you’ll be uncomfortable.” “It’s fine. Do your thing, don’t worry about me.” We didn’t speak the whole way. Ethan drove, lips pressed tight, fingers constantly tapping the steering wheel. This was his tell when he was irritated. The groom’s house wasn’t far. I waited in the car. Close to the bride pickup time, a group of people came out from the stairwell. Ethan walked at the back, typing on his phone. He handed me a warm breakfast. “It’ll take some time at the bride’s house. You can take a nap in the car.” I acknowledged and said nothing more. The bride’s house was on the tenth floor. I didn’t take the elevator, slowly climbing the stairs. The main door was wide open, decorated with festive red double happiness characters. You could hear the commotion inside even from the hallway. “Today’s three pairs of groomsmen and bridesmaids are all couples. The final game is a passionate three-minute kiss, or you’re not taking the bride!” I could faintly hear Ethan’s voice. “Tara and I aren’t what you think. Can I drink instead? You decide how many glasses.” The jeering continued nonstop. “What do you mean ‘what we think’? Is Mr. Miller shy?” “Last time I went to your office, I personally saw her coming out of your lounge wearing your shirt.” “What’s embarrassing about kissing your own girlfriend? Hurry up, don’t delay the auspicious time!” Standing in the corner. Watching the person I’d been with for seven years being pushed together to kiss someone else. Every long-distance meeting was especially precious. We just wanted to be together, even doing nothing felt happy. Only now did I realize belatedly that distance doesn’t just divide feelings and hearts. It divides lives too. Without me noticing, I’d already been excluded. When Ethan got in the car, there was still a smudge of lipstick at the corner of his mouth. I pretended not to see it. After arriving at the hotel, he arranged a seat for me then hurried away. I’d also fantasized about wedding scenes. It seemed we were just one step away from school uniforms to wedding dresses. Many people asked me, when will you and Ethan end the long-distance? You’ve been together seven years, time to get married, right? I always instinctively made excuses for Ethan. No rush, too busy, waiting until things are more stable. Pulled from my thoughts, on stage it had already reached the bouquet toss. The blue bouquet had several white ribbons hanging from the bottom. When Ethan caught it, even he looked surprised for a moment. Everyone shouted for him to propose to Tara. Ethan instinctively looked at me, unconsciously taking a step forward. Tara tugged his sleeve, her face full of pleading. Just a few seconds. Ethan turned and gave the bouquet to Tara. The moment he turned his back, I got up and left the hotel. I had to admit, people do change. We’re all rushing along our paths. Spending a lifetime together is luck; drifting apart is the norm. Distraction and detachment in a relationship don’t deserve forgiveness. Not even for a second.

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My best friend Sophia’s pregnant with my husband Ethan’s child. She’s already three months along. Meanwhile, I’ve just been beaten by him until I miscarried, now lying in a hospital bed. Ethan told me that as long as I accept it, Sophia’s child can call me Mom. I smiled and nodded, then turned around and married the most dangerous man in River City. Everything they’ve inflicted on me—I’ll make them pay back tenfold, a hundredfold. My best friend Sophia posted on Ins that she’d decided to put herself up for sale tonight, going back to that life. Cassandra panicked and rushed to the Blue Baron, determined to pull Sophia out of that hellhole again. When she hurried over, she saw a room full of familiar faces outside the private room door. Including her husband of three years since their remarriage—Ethan. He was gripping Sophia’s arm, demanding answers. “Sophia, you’ve got some nerve coming here! Isn’t the money I give you enough? Why would you degrade yourself like this!” In an instant, Sophia’s eyes turned red. “Ethan, I told you I don’t want you involved. Can’t you understand that?” “I don’t want to be entangled with you anymore. I don’t want to be the other woman! I don’t want to hurt Cassie anymore!” She trembled as she cried. Ethan forcibly pulled her into his arms. “It’s my fault for putting so much pressure on you.” He looked down at her, his usually cold eyes now filled with deep affection. “Let’s tell her the truth, okay?” “No! I won’t!” Sophia pushed him away violently, shaking her head in panic. “Please stop trying to take care of me. I can’t hurt Cassie! Just go!” Ethan stared at her. “Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll leave!” She looked up, her voice firm. “Ethan, listen carefully. I don’t love you anymore. Not at all—mmph.” The next second, the man pulled her forcefully into his embrace, dominating her lips with a kiss. Sophia cried while trying to push him away, but she couldn’t. Gradually, she stopped struggling and kissed him back even more intensely. When the kiss ended, Sophia leaned against him, gasping for breath. A friend nearby spoke up. “Sophia, Ethan loves you so much. Can’t you feel it?” “Three years ago, you said you were afraid of hurting Cassandra and insisted on breaking it off with Ethan. If he hadn’t stood outside your building all night a year ago, you probably wouldn’t even agree to see him again!” “Ethan loves you so much. If you keep degrading yourself in places like this, he’ll go crazy.” “Listen to Ethan. Tell her the truth. Cassandra’s pregnant anyway—she can’t leave Ethan! At worst, Cassie can be the first wife and you the second. You two sisters serving one husband—what’s wrong with that?” Sophia refused. “No, don’t tell her. Ethan, I’ll do what you say. I’ll stay by your side and stop degrading myself.” Ethan looked down, gently wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes. “You’ve suffered so much, Sophia.” Outside the private room. Watching this scene, Cassandra felt like someone was choking her throat. She even forgot how to breathe. In the dazzling lights, she remembered her past with Ethan. She and Ethan were neighbors, from age five to thirty. Ethan had protected her for a full twenty-five years. The Wilde and Hart families were well-matched. They’d had an engagement since childhood. Ethan was dark and rarely smiled, but he gave all his tenderness and favoritism to Cassandra. She loved eating scrambled eggs with locust flowers. Every season, the germaphobic Ethan would personally climb trees to pick them for her. She loved dancing. He hated it, but still learned for a whole month before her birthday ball, just to dance the first dance with her. When she was bullied, he could appear out of nowhere, fight five people at once, and shield her behind him so she wouldn’t get hurt. Sophia was a poor student she’d met in her junior year of high school. Her parents worked away from home year-round. She lived with her elderly grandmother. Even her tuition depended on school aid, and she barely scraped by for three meals a day. Cassandra felt sorry for her and took the initiative to befriend her, bringing her into her social circle. Later they became good friends. Ethan’s attitude toward Sophia also changed from initial distance to eventually sharing his favoritism with her for Cassandra’s sake. After college graduation, when Sophia was about to sell her body for money, it was Cassandra who rushed in to save her regardless of everything. Later she arranged work for Sophia, keeping her by Ethan’s side as his secretary. On Cassandra and Ethan’s wedding day, Sophia held the train of the wedding dress and cried her heart out. But in the first year after marriage, Ethan cheated. Cassandra didn’t know who the woman was. When she arrived, Ethan had locked that woman in a room. No matter how hysterical she became, he refused to let her in. She could only break down and seek comfort from Sophia, saying she wanted a divorce. It was Sophia who convinced her to let it go since it was in the past. Later, she forgave Ethan. For the next three years, everything was calm. Ethan also treated her better and better, not daring to hurt her in the slightest. This morning, after getting the ultrasound results and learning she was pregnant, she’d wanted to tell the two most important people in her life this good news. But she never imagined that the woman Ethan cheated with three years ago was her best friend! Three years later, they were at it again! Sadness surged over her like a tide. She staggered back a few steps and accidentally knocked over a vase nearby. “Crash!” The vase shattered on the floor. The private room door was yanked open. “Who’s there!” Seeing it was her, the person froze. “Mrs. Wilde…” Everyone in the private room looked toward her. One by one, until finally, Ethan looked at her too.

“Cassie, you saw everything.” Ethan instinctively shielded Sophia behind him. “I couldn’t control myself. On our wedding night, I said something came up at the company and didn’t come home. Actually, it was because I saw Sophia crying so sadly at the wedding. I couldn’t let her go, so I went to her apartment.” “I took her three times that night. That’s why I had a hickey on my neck the next morning. I told you it was a mosquito bite, but it wasn’t.” Cassandra froze. Before she could speak, Sophia had already broken down. “Enough! Stop talking! Ethan, if you say one more word, I’ll never speak to you again!” After screaming, she turned and grabbed Cassandra’s hand, crying and trembling. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t help myself. I really didn’t want to hurt you!” Cassandra could no longer suppress her anger and slapped her across the face. “Why would you do this to me! I treated you as my best friend! I gave you everything, and you even had to steal my husband! Why!” “Cassie, we truly love each other… We just can’t control it…” As soon as she finished speaking, Cassandra slapped her again. “You truly love each other? Then what do these ten-plus years between him and me mean!” This slap was harder. Sophia fell to the ground. Ethan rushed forward and shoved Cassandra aside. “Enough, Cassie. If you’re angry, take it out on me. Sophia’s health isn’t good. Don’t touch her again.” Cassandra fell to the ground, sharp pains shooting through her lower abdomen. But he turned to pick Sophia up. “Sophia, are you okay?” “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Go check on Cassie!” “Why do you still push me toward her at a time like this! You’ve yielded for so many years. Don’t push me away again!” Watching the boy who had once protected her growing up now protecting someone else. Cassandra finally understood everything. Actually, all the signs had been there. Later, when he made locust flower cakes, there was always a portion for Sophia. He remembered she liked sweet things and would add extra sugar. When going out shopping, he knew Sophia got cold easily and always kept a jacket in his bag. He said it was for Cassandra, but she never wore it because she was afraid of heat, not cold. That jacket was always on Sophia. She loved steak. Sophia didn’t. So every time they went to a Western restaurant, Ethan would arrange for someone to bring Chinese food specifically for Sophia to enjoy alone. Sometimes Cassandra would get jealous. He’d just pinch her cheek. “Silly girl, they say your best friend is like a second mother-in-law. If I want to marry you, don’t I have to win her over?” Cassandra had believed him. Now she realized she’d been a fool. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “No need to keep pushing each other away. Since you truly love each other, Ethan, I’ll fulfill your wishes. Let’s divorce.” “Cassie, I love you too. You know I won’t divorce you.” Ethan grabbed her arm, his eyes cold, his tone even colder. “As long as you apologize to Sophia, I’ll forgive what you did today. Sophia has depression. She can’t handle stress. If you don’t forgive her, she’ll do something to hurt herself again tonight!” “I should apologize?” Cassandra laughed. “She stole my husband, and you want me to apologize to her?” “Ethan, she’s the mistress. I will absolutely never apologize to a mistress!” Hearing the words “the mistress,” Sophia suddenly pushed Ethan away and grabbed a bottle from the table, smashing it hard against her own head. “I’m the mistress! I was wrong! I shouldn’t have been the mistress! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Bright red blood flowed from her forehead, but she didn’t stop. She grabbed another bottle and continued smashing it against herself. “Cassie, I was wrong, Cassie! Please forgive me.” Again and again, her forehead became a bloody mess. Ethan grabbed her hand, his eyes full of heartache. “Stop! Sophia, stop! You’re not the mistress. You’re not! I love you, so you’re not!” This statement dealt Cassandra a fatal blow. She never imagined that the Ethan who had announced at his eighteenth birthday coming-of-age ceremony in front of everyone that he would marry Cassandra when he grew up. Now said he loved her best friend Sophia. Seeing this scene, their friends couldn’t help but speak up. “Cassie, things have already come to this point. Why don’t you just let them be together?” “Yeah, we’ve brought up divorce before, but they both refused. They didn’t want to hurt you.” “Aren’t you two best friends? Can you bear to see Sophia suffer like this? She’s been wronged for three years too, forcing herself into depression.” Their friends looked at Cassandra with indignation, as if she were the only culprit behind everything. “Since you all think this way, I have nothing to say.” She turned to leave, but Ethan immediately had someone block her path. “Stop! You think you can just walk away after doing this to Sophia?” Cassandra bit her lip, tears blurring her vision. “Then what do you want?”

“Sophia smashed herself four times. I want you to pay back tenfold.” Ethan carried Sophia out of the private room. She trembled in his arms. “Do it. Forty bottles. Not one less.” Leaving those words, he walked away without looking back. Sophia tried to say something. “Don’t do this… Ethan…” “Don’t plead for her anymore. Otherwise, I’ll make it a hundredfold.” Hearing this, Cassandra couldn’t help but laugh. But as she laughed, she started crying. The man who’d sworn to protect her for life now wanted to hurt her! Seeing her cry, their friends didn’t comfort her. They all left one by one. Only she and two bodyguards remained in the private room. The bodyguards looked at each other, reluctant to act. Cassandra knew Ethan too well. Whatever he decided, no one could change. If she didn’t finish these forty bottles today, she wouldn’t be able to leave the Blue Baron. So she accepted her fate. “Do it.” “We’re sorry, Mrs. Wilde.” After apologizing, the bodyguard picked up an empty bottle and smashed it hard against Cassandra’s head. “Bang!” The glass bottle exploded, shards cutting her face. The second time, her head was bleeding! The third time, shards pierced into her scalp, the pain multiplying! The fourth, the fifth… After being hit countless times, she could no longer feel the pain. But something seemed to be flowing down her thighs. She looked down in a daze and saw blood. In that moment, she didn’t feel sad. She only felt relieved. The bodyguard quickly stopped and called Ethan in panic. “Mr. Wilde, Mrs. Wilde, she—” “Begging for mercy? Tell her—forty times, not one less! I’m with Sophia at the doctor right now. Don’t call me again!” The call was cut off. The bodyguard froze. Just as he was hesitating whether to continue, the woman in front of him collapsed to the ground like a broken doll. “Mrs. Wilde!” When Cassandra woke up, the first thing she felt was pain from her forehead. Everything else seemed not to hurt anymore. The doctor was checking her IV drip. “Mrs. Wilde, you’re awake? Don’t be too sad. You can have another child.” Cassandra didn’t answer. Her dark eyes shifted around. The doctor thought she was looking for Ethan and quickly explained, “Mr. Wilde will be here soon. We’ve already told him about your situation.” “How long have I been at the hospital?” “About six hours.” Six hours? Ethan hadn’t come. In his heart, she wasn’t that important at all. Cassandra’s nose stung, but she held back her tears. The hospital room door opened. Ethan walked in. The doctor left, thoughtfully closing the door behind him. Seeing the injuries on Cassandra’s forehead and her pale face, Ethan’s heart ached. He choked up. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” “I wanted to tell you this morning. Didn’t get the chance before you beat the child out of me.” Cassandra’s tone was flat, as if talking about something unrelated to herself. “Now it’s fine. No need to say it anymore. The baby’s gone anyway.” “Cassie!” Ethan reached out to hold her, his voice still gentle. “If I’d known you were pregnant, I wouldn’t have done that to you!” “You saw it yourself. Sophia really is sick. I’ve thought about not dealing with her. But all these years she’s been between us. I can’t ignore her. You understand, right?” “She’s always loved me silently without asking for anything in return. Her life was hard enough before. I don’t want her to suffer. You’re her good friend. You should understand!” Cassandra had miscarried. The child was beaten out of her by Ethan. He came to the hospital to see her, yet every word was about how much he felt for another woman. Cassandra should have felt pain. But perhaps because this was her second time being betrayed, she didn’t feel any pain at all. “I know. I understand.” She pushed him away and asked softly, “How is she? Is she okay?” “You still care about her? Does that mean you accept her?” The hope in his eyes pierced her heart, but Cassandra still nodded. “Yes. You’re right. She’s sick. You should be with her.” She turned away, giving him only her back. “I’m tired. Go be with her.” “Cassie, you’re so wonderful! My love for you isn’t wasted. I’ll go tell Sophia. She’ll be so happy!” Ethan walked toward the door. When he reached it, he left one more sentence. “Oh, Cassie, don’t be too upset about not having a child. Sophia’s pregnant too, already three months along. She said as long as you accept it, her child will be your child.” He left. The hospital room door closed. Inside was deathly silent. Learning that Sophia was pregnant with Ethan’s child, Cassandra thought she would be shocked, heartbroken. But her heart was already like stagnant water, feeling nothing. She picked up her phone and called her lawyer. “The divorce papers I left with you three years ago can take effect now.”

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When my online gaming boyfriend found out I scored a 1590 on the SATs, he dumped me. “With grades like that, going into a STEM major? She’s probably a literal ogre.” He snickered, mocking my looks to his frat brothers, forgetting his mic was still hot. A second later, our teammate lifted his rifle and gunned him down. “Talk trash to a junior from my department, consider yourself unlucky.” Fast forward to the start of the semester. I stared at the 6-foot-2, drop-dead gorgeous guy standing in front of me, completely speechless. Bro, with a face like that, calling someone else a scumbag… isn’t that a bit hypocritical? After the SAT scores were released, I pulled an all-nighter gaming. My parents were too busy calling every relative we knew to brag, so they left me alone. By the time morning rolled around and I got a call from Mason, my voice was completely hoarse. He cut straight to the chase: “Riley, let’s break up.” Mason and I had met randomly in an online lobby. He was a painfully average player but had a lot of money—a total pay-to-win whale. Plus, he was a smooth talker. The night after the SATs, he asked me out, and we made it official. I didn’t expect it to crash and burn in less than a month. “Okay,” I agreed, not bothering to cling to him. We hadn’t even met IRL yet. I just treated it like my Tamagotchi had died. Mason seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “We can still game together, right?” I said sure. Right after we finished a match, Mason changed his profile picture. I didn’t think much of it and was about to log off. Suddenly, an unfamiliar, teasing voice came through the headset: “Yo, Mason, what’s with the new PFP? You break up?” Mason’s mic was still open. Before I could warn him, I heard him scoff: “Obviously! Do you know she scored a 1590 on her SATs? And she’s going to Stanford for Computer Science!” “With grades like that, doing a STEM major? She’s probably a literal ogre. If I didn’t dump her before we met IRL, I’d probably die of fright.” The other guys in our squad went dead silent. Mason sounded confused: “Hey, why aren’t you guys moving—” Bang! Bang! Bang! The God-tier player on our squad suddenly fired three consecutive shots, blowing Mason’s head off in-game. Mason instantly raged: “Are you insane?! Why the hell did you team-kill me—” His voice abruptly cut off. He finally realized his mic had been hot the whole time. A lazy, nonchalant voice drifted through the headset. “Talk trash to a junior from my department, consider yourself unlucky.” Wait, what??? This teammate almost never used voice chat, but his skills were absolutely insane. In my head, he was always the cold, untouchable pro. Who would have thought the first time he ever spoke, it would be to defend me? Right then, my phone started buzzing like crazy. It was my best friend, Chloe. I exited the lobby and picked up, instantly bombarded by her frantic screaming. “Riley Evans! You! Are a literal god!” “You got a 1590! You’re valedictorian! You have to carry me through life now, ahhhhh!” I pulled the phone away from my ear. “Stop yelling. Your girl just got dumped.” Chloe: “?” I gave her the rundown of what just happened. “He probably thought I was ugly.” Chloe was furious: “??? Is he clinically insane? If the Prom Queen of West High is an ogre, what the hell are the rest of us?!” “Whatever.” I didn’t want to waste energy on him. Thinking back to what that God-tier teammate had said, I sent him a private message: “Hey, senior? Thanks for today! Can I get your number? I’ll treat you to food when the semester starts!” A minute later, the aloof senior blessed me with a single word: “Sure.” Getting publicly executed by a teammate completely destroyed Mason’s ego, and he rage-quit the lobby immediately. But that night, Mason sent me a message. “Log on. Let’s run it again.” It seemed he was determined to win his pride back. Talk about a bruised ego. I glanced at his new teammate. “This gamer tag looks familiar.” A lazy voice drifted through my headset: “He’s a paid pro-carry.” I jumped slightly, rubbing my ear in surprise. This guy… we had played together for so long, and he barely ever typed a word. But ever since he stood up for me, he seemed too lazy to type and just exclusively used voice comms. I wasn’t quite used to it yet. Looking at the expensive new gear Mason had equipped, I felt a bit nervous. “Can we win?” He was dead set on making a comeback, spending real cash to buy a victory. The senior asked lazily, “Do you want to beat him?” I didn’t hesitate: “Duh!” So what if he’s a trust fund whale? I heard a low chuckle. “Alright.” Nine minutes later, Mason and his expensive pro-carry both got sniped in the head. Mason screamed an obscenity over the mic and instantly logged off. I sat in deep thought for a long time before finally texting the senior: “Senior, if I go to Stanford for CS, will I become as cracked at this game as you?” “…Not necessarily.” The senior graciously typed a few extra words for me. “Depends on your raw talent.” Ah. I understood. “Well, I’m covering your breakfast for a month!” He went back to his aloof self and didn’t reply. After the scores were finalized, my life became a blur. Doing college prep interviews, picking dorms, getting my driver’s license… I was so busy I barely touched the game for over a month. Out of nowhere, Mason messaged me. “Riley, we had an amicable breakup. You don’t have to literally quit the game just to avoid me, you know.” Me: ??? What kind of delusional nonsense was he typing? When I finally logged into my neglected account, I realized the rumors were already flying. Several of my regular squadmates instantly spammed me. “Riley! You’re finally back!” “It’s just a breakup! It’s not the end of the world!” “Guys like Mason who only care about looks are shallow anyway! Good riddance!” I was totally lost. “No, I’ve just been super busy lately.” But no matter how much I explained, nobody believed me. After a few minutes of confusion, I finally figured out why—Mason had a new girlfriend. “That low-level account he’s carrying around is his new girl. I heard her PFP is actually her, a broadcast journalism major.” I spectated them for a bit and cringed. She was painfully bad. Even with his pay-to-win items, it was agonizing to watch. Hats off to Mason for having the patience to peacefully coax and carry her. To bleach my eyes, I grouped up with the senior. Sometimes he seemed incredibly busy, and other times he seemed like he had nothing but free time. I was very blunt about my needs: “Senior, my eyes are bleeding. Mind flexing some plays to cleanse my vision?” Five minutes later, we loaded into a match and absolutely decimated the enemy team. I felt so much better. I was perfectly satisfied, but right as I was about to log off, that deep, lazy voice echoed in my ears again. “Looks like you really liked him.” I thought I was hallucinating. “What?” He elaborated, “They all said you cried so hard you lost your voice the day he dumped you.” Me: “…” “But now he’s got someone new, and they look pretty happy. You should let it go. Crying over a jerk like that isn’t worth it.” Me: “…” This was absurd. I kept my face deadpan. “Why would I be hung up on him? Stanford has a massive ratio of guys to girls in the CS department. You think I’ll have a shortage of options?” Senior: “…” Realizing that might have sounded a bit arrogant, I corrected myself: “Actually, let’s not be too greedy. I just want the most handsome one!” The line was quiet for a long moment before a low chuckle broke the silence. “You’ve got some high ambitions.” Late August rolled around, and I dragged my suitcase onto campus for freshman move-in day. The California sun was relentless. There wasn’t a single breeze. I pulled my baseball cap lower and kept walking. Stanford was great and all, but the campus was so massive I felt like I was walking halfway to my grave. Suddenly, a guy jogged over from nearby. “Hey, freshman? Are you an English major?” I looked up, and he froze for a second, his ears rapidly turning red. “Thanks, but I’m in the Computer Science department. Do you know where their check-in booths are?” His eyes widened in shock. It took me asking a second time for him to snap out of it. “Oh! Just go straight down this path and take a left at the end. That suitcase looks heavy, want me to walk you there?” I politely declined and kept walking until I finally found the spot. A few guys were slouched lazily in folding chairs under the canopy. When they saw me stop, one of them let out a low whistle. “Hey, freshman, you looking for Liam too? Tough luck, he just stepped out to the advisor’s office. Come back later.” Liam? Who? “No.” I handed over my ID. “I’m here to check in.” The guys slouched under the tent all whipped their heads around in absolute shock. “Holy shit?!” As soon as I got settled into my dorm, I got a text from Chloe. “Rileyyyy I miss you so much waaaaah! Thinking about not seeing you every day is breaking my heart!” “Chloe, just to remind you, your college is literally across the bay.” “I don’t care, I don’t care!” Chloe whined. “Do you know you made the Campus Confessions Instagram page on your literally first day?! Now I have a million more people trying to steal my gorgeous bestie!” Me: “…Campus Confessions?” I tapped the link she sent, and sure enough, someone had taken a candid photo of me and posted it. Emmm… At the time, I was dragging my suitcase, sweating like a dog under the sun. I didn’t even notice anyone taking a picture. “BRO! Are the freshmen really this gorgeous this year!?” “If I call her the Campus Queen, nobody can object, right? What major? English?” “Drop the Insta handle! I am begging!” “Give up, guys, she’s a CS major! How the hell did those nerds get so lucky! FML!” “??? No way? The CS department already has Liam Wright, how did they pull someone of this tier too? They get the absolute hottest guy AND girl on campus? Where is the justice?” Liam Wright? That must be the Liam those guys mentioned at the booth. Seems like he’s pretty popular. Oh right, I almost forgot to text my senior. “Senior, I checked into campus!” A little while later, he replied: “Was busy earlier, didn’t see this. You arrived?” “Yep! You go do your thing, my roommates just got here, we’re gonna go grab food.” A few minutes later, he sent a short list. “These spots near the West Gate are pretty good.” Man, having a ‘local’ is the best! So convenient. My roommates were all in different majors, but they were super nice. After introducing ourselves, we headed out. We had just sat down at a restaurant when Mason randomly sent me a photo. My heart jumped. —It was the exact candid photo from the Campus Confessions page!

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On Noelle Miller’s wedding day, my husband jumped from the 18th floor. Unlocking his studio, I found it filled with portraits of Noelle. The brushstrokes were frantic and chaotic, yet practically bleeding with his fierce, unyielding love for her. His best friend told me, “Ethan loved Noelle for ten years. She was the only light in his life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in high school. I watched Ethan being cornered by the school bad boy in an empty classroom, and silently shut the door on them. Later, he knocked on my window in the pouring rain, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Belle, do you not want me anymore…?” 1 Astrophysics professor Ethan Wright recently discovered a new asteroid, but during his press interview, it was his stunning, aloof looks that made him trend online. The public’s focus quickly shifted from the asteroid to his devastatingly handsome face. When people found out that the asteroid was named after the love of his life, the internet practically exploded. While praising this fairy-tale romance, netizens began furiously digging to find out who “E.l.l.e.” was. Holding my phone, I was grinning from ear to ear, unable to wipe the smile off my face. At the end of the video, the reporter asked with a smile, “Professor Wright, do you have anything you’d like to say to your true love, E.l.l.e.?” Ethan froze. His pitch-black eyes trembled slightly. “Happy wedding day.” His tone was calm, but threaded with an imperceptible, soul-crushing despair. I instantly stiffened. Happy wedding day? “Oooooh!” My best friend, Harper, nudged me playfully. “Belle, your Professor Wright looks so cold, but who knew he was such a romantic? Treating your anniversary like it’s your wedding day all over again!” Is that what it was? Looking at Ethan’s deeply affectionate eyes on the screen, my cheeks flushed hot. I had been by Ethan’s side for ten years. I stayed with him, transforming him from a suicidal, gloomy teenager into the refined, elegant professor he was today. Ten years ago, he transferred to our school and became my desk mate. He was a boy with pale skin and picturesque features, but the way he looked at me was always filled with impatience. And now, he had named an asteroid after me. When he spoke of his true love, his usually stern brow softened with devotion and tenderness. Today was our first wedding anniversary. I rested a hand on my flat stomach, curled up on the sofa. I was waiting for him to come home so I could be the first to tell him the news: I was pregnant. However… What I waited for instead was the news of Ethan’s death. He had jumped from the 18th floor. In his hand, he tightly clutched a crumpled note. Death is nothing but returning to the cosmos. Billions of years from now, we will reunite in the sea of stars. 2 Accompanied by Harper, I arranged Ethan’s funeral. He had left a will, stating that all his assets were to be donated to charity upon his death. For some reason, I was remarkably calm these past few days. Seeing Harper with swollen eyes, grinding her teeth at Ethan’s memorial portrait but forcing herself to comfort me, I actually felt the urge to laugh. After the funeral, I received a call from his lawyer. “Mrs. Wright, Mr. Wright owns a suburban villa that isn’t included in the donation clause… Whenever you have time, you can go sort through it.” The villa was on the south side of the city. I pushed open the front doors and was so stunned by what I saw that I couldn’t speak. The entire living room was filled with portraits. The brushstrokes were frantic and extreme, as rough as a beginner’s casual sketches. But the person in the paintings looked incredibly lifelike because of the intense, surging love poured into every line. It was Noelle Miller, the most popular girl from our high school. In ten years, I had never once heard her name leave Ethan’s lips. I had no idea he hid his feelings for her so deeply. I stumbled forward a few steps, leaning heavily against a desk to keep myself from collapsing. On the desk, several resin blocks were neatly arranged. Inside each block, an item was perfectly preserved: a Jolly Rancher, a dried flower, an acrylic nail with a rhinestone. The resin was smooth and polished, clearly having been held and caressed countless times. The trash Noelle had casually tossed away, he treated as priceless treasures. Meanwhile, the wedding ring I had personally picked out for him was lying neglected in a dried-up paint palette nearby. My heart spasmed with pain. Tears spilled from my eyes without my permission. After sitting down, I masochistically opened the notebook resting on the desk. It documented Ethan’s ten-year-long secret obsession. On his first day as a transfer student, he received a Jolly Rancher and a friendly smile from the beautiful girl sitting in front of him. It was as if a ray of sunlight had pierced through his pitch-black soul. For a gloomy teenager who suffered from domestic abuse and severe bullying, it was the first taste of pure, unadulterated kindness he had ever received. From that moment on, he was a goner. He wanted to lock her up. He wanted to possess her. He wanted her to smile only for him. But he couldn’t bear to drag someone so radiant into his darkness. E.l.l.e. isn’t for Isabelle. It’s for Noelle. It was his wedding gift to her. Flipping from the first page to the last, I was only mentioned in a handful of brief, dismissive entries. [My new desk mate is too nosy. So annoying.] […] [We got married. I regret it a little, but I have to take responsibility for her.] The breakfasts I brought him because I was worried about his low blood sugar, the bullies I chased away for him, the time I grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the fire his psychotic father started, the years of my companionship and comfort… He didn’t write a single word about any of it. The only thing he couldn’t forget was Noelle’s bright, dazzling smile from years ago. Every word he wrote felt like a knife carving into my heart. I clenched my fists, taking deep, shuddering breaths. The air still smelled faintly of his crisp pine cologne. It made me want to throw up. Some people are just pathetic. They don’t deserve salvation, and they don’t deserve to be loved. I pressed my palm against my stomach. He didn’t deserve to have me bear his child. Just as I was about to stand up, a noise came from the entryway. Two figures pushed the door open and walked in. 3 It was Caleb, Ethan’s childhood friend, and Noelle. Caleb’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse. “Ethan left this villa for you. You were the only light he ever had. When his depression got so bad he almost couldn’t hold on, looking at your pictures was the only thing that kept him going.” Noelle stood there looking lost, a layer of mist forming over her eyes. “After he got his early acceptance to MIT, he didn’t even need to go to class anymore. He only showed up every day just to get one more look at you…” It was then that Caleb noticed me standing behind the bookshelf. He froze. Then, he frowned in pure disgust. “What the hell are you doing here?” He strode over and shoved me hard. “Get out! Don’t pollute the only sanctuary Ethan had left! If you hadn’t clung to him like a leech, he wouldn’t have ended up like this!” I stumbled from the force of his shove, a dull ache throbbing in my abdomen. I steadied myself and slapped him hard across the face. “What does this have to do with me?! I never forced him to date me, and I never forced him to marry me! He missed out on Noelle because he was too much of a pathetic coward to do anything about it!” Noelle’s tearful, nasally voice suddenly cut in. “Did he… did he really never get my love letter?” Both Caleb and I froze. “What did you say?” “Before graduation, I left a love letter on his desk, but he never responded…” She let out a bitter laugh, and when she looked up, her eyes were tainted with resentment. “It was you, wasn’t it?” She glared daggers at me. “You were jealous of me, so you threw my letter away? You’re the reason we missed out on each other for a whole decade… and now he’s dead…” I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. But Caleb believed her instantly. “You toxic bitch!” Grinding his teeth, he lunged at me. My stomach slammed violently against the sharp corner of the table. Agonizing pain ripped through me. Blood slowly seeped through my clothes. My vision went black, and I collapsed to the floor. 4 When I opened my eyes again, I was wearing my old high school uniform, clutching a textbook, standing right in front of the storage room. Inside, a teenage Ethan was leaning against the wall, his messy black hair falling over his forehead, looking at me with a hint of confusion. Asher Stone, the school rebel, sat lazily across from him, looking completely relaxed. Seeing me, Asher raised an eyebrow, a careless smirk playing on his lips. “Well, well. The valedictorian. Worried about him? I’m just having a… heart-to-heart with him.” The solid weight of the book in my hands told me this wasn’t a dream. My hands and feet turned instantly cold as a wave of intense hatred washed over me. The book hit the floor with a thud. Expressionless, I reached out, pulled the door shut on them, and turned to walk away. Behind me, the door was shoved violently open. Ethan sprinted past me like a gust of wind, leaving only a hurried silhouette. “Why’s he running? I just wanted to ask why he didn’t sign up for the track meet…” Asher muttered, picking up my dropped book and casually handing it to me. “You’re welcome, by the way.” I got a bad feeling about this and quickened my pace to follow Ethan. By the classroom door, Ethan stood frozen, staring at Noelle, who was joking around with her desk mate inside. The setting sun cast a soft, golden halo around his silhouette. His gaze was endlessly tender, yet filled with disbelief, as if he had fallen into a beautiful dream he refused to wake up from. My heart slowly sank. His demeanor and aura weren’t those of the gloomy teenager he used to be. He looked exactly like the refined professor from ten years in the future. Ethan… had been reborn too. “What’s his problem?” Asher patted his shoulder in confusion, squeezing past him into the classroom. “Class is starting, man. Stop blocking the door.”

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Carter pursued me for two years and spoiled me rotten for five. Five years ago, he was killed in the line of duty. No body was ever found. Today, five years later, Captain Miller called me personally. He said Carter had been found. He was alive and well, but… He was getting married. On the way to that coastal town, Captain Miller and the other officers kept trying to gently talk me out of my delusions, but I refused to give up. I rubbed the plain silver band on my finger. He had proposed to me. He was my fiancé. How could he marry another woman? A flight and a bus ride later—five hours on the bus having me throwing up violently—we finally arrived at the small seaside town after a ten-hour journey. “It’s over there.” Captain Miller pointed to a place called Sunny Haven Inn. It was an obscure little bed and breakfast that had suddenly gone viral because of a set of photos a tourist posted online. In those photos, the owner had accidentally stepped into the frame. Even though it was just his side profile, it was enough to send the internet into a frenzy. Captain Miller gave me a heavy look. “He doesn’t remember anything. You have to…” I stared fixedly at that door, my senses completely shutting down. When Captain Miller pushed the door open, a wind chime made of seashells let out a crisp, clear melody. Before us lay a massive courtyard with a cobblestone path leading to the main house. There was a giant wooden swing, a golden retriever, and several stray cats lounging about. I looked at the animals in shock. Suddenly, a figure emerged from behind a curtain of strung seashells. The man was tall, with long legs and tight, lean muscles visible beneath his black t-shirt. His jawline was sharp and clean. The moment I laid eyes on him, my body froze uncontrollably. A numb tingling shot down my spine, and my head buzzed. All my bodily functions seemed to fail at once, leaving me with only enough strength to stare desperately at the man in front of me. I had seen people who looked eighty percent like Carter—some even had the exact same teardrop mole under their eye—but I always knew with one glance that they weren’t him. But the man standing before me was far removed from the boy I knew. His facial features were more mature than the teenage Carter, sharper, and noticeably colder. I couldn’t stop myself from stepping closer, and closer, until I clearly saw the teardrop mole by his eye, and the braided red cord around his neck… “Car… Carter…” I choked out, fighting back a sob, whispering his name softly as if afraid I’d scare him away. He looked up at me. His gaze was entirely, devastatingly foreign. “Excuse me?” “Carter…” I could barely articulate his name. The man looked at me with cold indifference. “Sorry, miss. You have the wrong person.” I could be wrong about anything in this life, but I could never be wrong about Carter Davis. He was half my soul. Captain Miller hurriedly pulled me back. “Sorry about that. Do you have any vacant rooms?” Carter crossed his arms, scrutinizing us carefully. “Yes. How many?” “Two.” “Come on in.” He turned and walked straight into the house without sparing me another glance. I had naively believed that as long as he saw me, he would remember. If he just looked at me, everything would go back to normal… But the way he looked at me was unfamiliar and sharp, tinged with a hint of annoyance at my abruptness. I didn’t cry when I heard he was alive. I didn’t cry when I heard he was getting married. But remembering the look in his eyes just now, my heart felt like it was being crushed in someone’s fist. It hurt so much it felt like it would explode, and my tears fell uncontrollably. 2 “IDs.” Captain Miller handed over our driver’s licenses. When the man reached out to take them, I saw it clearly: the top half of his left pinky finger was missing. As he walked behind the counter, he moved with a slight, almost imperceptible limp in his right leg. I clamped a hand over my mouth. Captain Miller grabbed the room keys and quickly had someone escort me outside. I sat in my room for a long time before I found my voice. “How did he end up like this?” On the way here, I swore to myself that the moment I saw him, I would slap him as hard as I could. That heartless bastard, how could he forget me and marry someone else! But the moment I saw him, I suddenly couldn’t bear to do it. All I wanted to do was hold him. I stayed in my room for hours, so long that Sarah, a colleague, got worried and dragged me out. Everyone was in the backyard having a barbecue. I instantly spotted Carter manning the grill. Captain Miller stood next to him, and the two seemed to be getting along great. “Chloe, feeling better?” I nodded. “Carter, let me introduce you. This is Chloe.” I slowly extended my hand, fighting with everything I had to keep it from trembling. “Chloe Adams. Nice to meet you.” A broad, warm palm briefly grasped mine. “Carter. Nice to meet you.” A greeting between strangers. In that split second, my nose stung. I remembered right after he proposed, he had held me, incredibly gentle, and whispered affectionately, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Davis.” We had missed our chance. Looking at the man in front of me, I had a million questions, but all that came out was, “It’s beautiful here. Have you been living well?” He expertly flipped the skewers on the grill and answered casually, “Pretty well.” That’s good. As we spoke, a piece of chicken wing fell from the grill. He looked toward the door. “Potato, come here.” Potato was the name of an orange tabby we had adopted together. Carter named him. He had said, “He’s fat and round, what else would we call him but Potato?” Watching the big golden retriever trot over, wagging its tail, my throat tightened. “His name is Potato?” “Yeah. He’s fat and round. What else would I call him?” I turned around to secretly wipe my tears. Only Carter would come up with such a cheesy name twice. When the food was ready, we all sat around the table. Seeing the beer, I grabbed a can and downed it. The bitter taste spread across my tongue. I looked at the man across from me. The teardrop mole I used to tease him about was still there. The braided red cord still hung around his neck, though I didn’t know if it was the one I gave him. None of this felt real. Sarah handed out the skewers, placing a mushroom one on his plate. Before he could react, I snatched it away. “No, he can’t eat mushrooms.” Everyone at the table suddenly stared at me. Just as I froze, not knowing what to do, a figure ran over and jumped right onto Carter’s back, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling him affectionately. “Carter, I missed you so much!” Carter hurriedly leaned forward, supporting the person on his back with one hand. “Get down.” It was a reprimand, but all I could hear in his tone was pure indulgence. He pulled the girl off his back and into his arms, smiling as he introduced her. “This is my wife, Lily.” 3 Still holding the mushroom skewer, I stared blankly at the girl whose smile was as bright as the sun. My chest convulsed. It felt like I had been smashed with a sledgehammer. It hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. “Hi everyone! I’m Lily, Carter’s wife. Welcome to Oceanside!” Captain Miller and the others greeted her one by one. Lily was very outgoing. She complimented everyone. When she got to me, she said, “Chloe, you’re so pretty! And so slim, I’m so jealous! Your hair is so nice too, unlike mine. I’m practically going bald.” Remembering something, she turned to the man behind her. “It’s definitely because you don’t know how to blow-dry hair properly. Be careful, or next week you’ll have a bald bride at the altar!” Carter ruffled her hair, letting out a helpless laugh. “Okay.” Looking into her clear eyes—eyes that had never seen a speck of dust, eyes filled entirely with excitement for her wedding—I saw exactly what I used to look like. “Wedding?” Sarah asked. “Yes! Next Wednesday is our wedding. We’d love it if you all came!” I opened another can of beer. Lily reached for one too, but before she could grab it, the man snatched it away. “No drinking.” Lily pouted. “Just a sip.” Ignoring the fact that we were there, she sneaked a kiss on his cheek. “Please, Carter? Just one sip!” “Drink this.” Inside a white mug were floating rose petals. As the lid was lifted, the scent of roses wafted out. Lily frowned. “Roses? Carter! I’ve told you eight hundred times, I don’t like floral tea. How do you always forget!” “I don’t know… I just make it out of habit.” Hearing his words, I turned my head and downed the last drop of my beer. I used to hate drinking water. In high school, my throat would get so dry from reciting textbooks that sometimes I lost my voice. To make me drink water, Carter would make me all kinds of floral teas, fruit teas, and oolong teas, rotating them constantly. In the winter, he’d boil apple cider and pear soup for me. Every time I took an extra sip, the arrogant, untouchable Carter Davis acted like he wanted to build a shrine for my pink thermos. Seeing me drink the beer, Lily tried to negotiate. “Look, Chloe just drank a whole can. Maybe her hair is so nice because she drinks beer.” “Quiet, you.” I stared at the empty can by my hand, smiling bitterly. “My ex-boyfriend didn’t let me drink either, because I’m a lightweight. He was super strict with me.” Lily looked at me. “Then won’t he be mad if you drink like this now?” I glanced behind her and shook my head. “He stopped caring about me a long time ago.” Realizing she had touched a nerve, Lily looked apologetic and stopped arguing, obediently drinking the tea from Carter’s mug until it was empty. I only ate that single mushroom skewer, but I drank quite a lot. My head spun, so I excused myself early. As I walked down the steps, I heard Lily’s hearty laugh. I looked back. Lily was clinging to Carter’s back like a sloth, waving her arms, talking non-stop. Carter stumbled occasionally from her weight, but he just kept his head down, patiently cleaning the table with a good temper, as if he were entirely used to it. Carter was not a good-tempered man. I thought he only reserved his patience for me. I thought he would only ever love me in this life… Looking at Lily, whose face was overflowing with happiness, I clutched my violently aching heart. It hurt so much I wanted to die. That should be me! The one being spoiled rotten by Carter Davis should be me! Suppressing the urge to tear them apart, I forced myself back to my room. I dumped everything out of my bag onto the floor until I found my pills. I swallowed them, and only then did the tidal wave of my emotions slowly begin to recede. When Sarah came in, I had returned to normal. “I thought you were going to cause a scene.” I looked out the window. “I planned to. But suddenly, I couldn’t bear to do it.” “I saw how much you brought with you. Were you planning to help him get his memory back?” That suitcase held our ten years. It had the first note he ever passed me, his first confession letter, the gifts he gave me from age 18 to 28, our first photo together, and our first wedding portrait. I shook my head. “I never thought about it.” Sarah looked at me in shock. “W-Why?” Remembering the brutal murder of Carter’s parents, I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing. “The pain of losing your family… I don’t want him to endure that twice.” 4 I woke up very late the next day. By the time I got dressed and walked out with my sketchbook, it was already past lunch. Captain Miller waved at me. “Chloe, we saved some food for you.” Everyone was chatting at the wooden table in the courtyard. When Lily saw me, she practically sprinted inside and came back out holding an orange envelope, handing it to me like a precious treasure. “Chloe, we don’t have a lot of family, so this is a formal invitation to our wedding.” A formal invitation. I took the envelope, lacking the courage to pull out the card inside. Lily kept urging me, “Chloe, you’re an art major! Tell us what you think of the design!” It was a thin piece of paper, but it felt like it weighed a ton. “Here, let me see. Wow, the colors are gorgeous,” Sarah quickly chimed in. “Right?! Carter picked the orange, and I picked purple, but the orange looked way better. Chloe, what’s your favorite color?” I set down my sketchbook and pointed to my orange sweater. Before high school, I didn’t have a favorite color. But one day I wore an orange jacket, and Carter told me I looked really pretty in it. From then on, orange became my favorite color. “Chloe, your taste is so similar to my Carter’s!” My Carter. Hearing those words felt like glass shards in my ears. There was a time when Carter loved nothing more than introducing me to people as, “My Chloe.” Seeing my expression falter, Sarah immediately took the invitation from me. “The cartoon inside looks just like you, Lily. Very cute. But wait… is this a sunset? The wedding is at sunset?” Lily rubbed her cheeks. “Carter insisted on it! Because he said…” “Because someone can’t wake up.” Lily stared at me, dumbfounded. “Chloe! How did you know?! That’s exactly what Carter said! But more importantly, Carter really loves sunsets.” Carter once told me that his favorite time of day was dusk, because at dusk, Sleeping Beauty finally woke up and became his girlfriend. I was a notoriously heavy sleeper. Waking up at 5:30 AM for high school was pure torture. For those three years, every single morning, I would sit on the back of Carter’s bicycle, wrapping my arms around his waist and going back to sleep with my eyes closed. I could cram three full dreams into a ten-minute recess, and every time I woke up, his varsity jacket would be draped over me. I remember one time, half-asleep, hearing someone sigh beside my ear. “Man, you sleep so much. What am I going to do with you on our wedding day?” Fast forward to my twenty-fourth birthday. I was woken up in the morning by the scratch of his stubble. I pushed him away to keep sleeping. He pulled me into his arms, gently patting my back, his voice thick with sleep. “Chloe, let’s have our wedding at sunset.” I mumbled in agreement. He kissed my forehead, letting out a satisfied sigh. “I have to make sure my little sleepyhead gets enough rest. If you get cranky and refuse to marry me, who am I going to complain to?” But now, it wasn’t that I refused to marry him. It was that he wasn’t marrying me. I truly had no one to complain to. I stood up and grabbed my sketchbook. At that exact moment, Lily noticed the ring on my left ring finger. Seeing her gaze, I wiggled my fingers. “Because he used to say the same thing.” “Are you married, Chloe?” “Yeah. I’ve been married for five years.” Lily looked surprised. “Where’s your husband? Did he not come with you?” I looked at the man walking toward us from a distance, and slowly shook my head.

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During my senior year of high school, I used fake photos of a gorgeous model to catfish an MIT-bound genius. I scammed him into giving me a year of free SAT tutoring. After graduation, we were supposed to meet in real life. But my cousin, who had just scored a 1540 on her SATs, tried to intercept him. “He’s the top student in MIT’s physics department. Do you really think a humanities nerd like you deserves him?” I didn’t go to MIT. I went to Harvard. After the semester started, there was a joint Harvard-MIT mixer. When the notoriously aloof upperclassman sitting across from me was asked about his dating history, he answered flatly: “I got played by a catfish.” “It didn’t feel great.” After he spoke, his eyes locked onto mine. “Wouldn’t you agree, freshman?” Chapter 1 The day the SAT scores were released happened to coincide with a massive family dinner. My cousin, Chloe, had scored a 1540. She instantly became the prized jewel of the entire family. “I knew our Chloe would crush it.” “Exactly! She’s the absolute pride of this family!” I sat in silence, my head bowed, staring at the phone hidden under the edge of the table. My online boyfriend, Liam, had just sent me two messages: “Did you check your scores yet?” “I’m at the airport. I’ll see you tonight.” My heart did a violent flip. I hadn’t figured out how to reply yet. Suddenly, my cousin called my name: “Emily.” I looked up. I was met with her malicious, overly sweet smile. “Did you check your scores yet? What did you get?” Before I could answer, my aunt laughed. “Chloe, why are you rubbing salt in Emily’s wounds?” “Someone who fails basic algebra on a regular basis isn’t going to miraculously sprout wings on the SATs.” Ever since my dad passed away from an illness, my family’s financial situation had been dire. Our relatives had always looked down on us. Especially my cousin, Chloe. She was the golden child. Growing up, her absolute favorite hobby was stepping on me to elevate herself. I forced a stiff smile and looked at her. “You really want to know?” “We’re all family here.” Chloe smiled innocently. “Emily, even if you have to go to community college, nobody here is going to laugh at you.” My mom put down her fork and squeezed my hand under the table. “I’m proud of Emily no matter what she scores.” My aunt muttered under her breath: “Tsk. Dirt poor and practically failing, yet she still acts so high and mighty.” For a moment, every single eye in the private dining room was pinned on me. I took a bite of melon, chewed slowly, and finally spoke: “It’s true. I choked under pressure. Didn’t do my best.” Chloe couldn’t hold back a triumphant smirk, though her tone was fake-sympathetic: “What do you mean, choked? Your scores have always been right around the—” I cut her off: “—I only scored 40 points higher than you.” Chapter 2 She froze. A few seconds later, she practically shrieked: “Are you insane?! If you’re going to lie, make it believable!” “You’re a humanities student! The absolute highest score in the state for the humanities track this year was a 1580!” “Correct.” My voice was completely flat. I casually picked up another piece of melon. “I am the top humanities scorer in the state.” The room plunged into dead silence. Chloe stood frozen, her face shifting violently between red, green, and white. Suddenly, she blurted out, “Did you cheat on the SATs?!” “Believe whatever you want.” I grabbed my mom’s hand and stood up. “We’re going home.” Leaving a room full of stunned relatives in the restaurant, I walked home. When I checked my phone, I saw two new messages from Liam. “It’s okay if you didn’t do well.” “In my eyes, you are always the brightest star.” “…” He was so sweet, I wanted to cry. I had used a fake profile to mercilessly exploit him for a year of free elite tutoring. For the first time, a sharp pang of guilt pierced my chest. Chapter 3 When I went back to my high school that afternoon, I was the absolute center of attention. After all, on all my previous practice tests, my scores had barely scraped a 1200. The students were whispering everywhere I went. “How did the class slacker suddenly get a near-perfect score?” “You haven’t heard? Emily cheated. The school board is reviewing the security footage right now.” Amidst the chaotic chatter, I suddenly caught a few girls gossiping in the hallway. “Liam is coming back to visit the school tonight.” “Oh my god, Liam? The guy who got early admission to MIT last year and broke the state record for the AP Physics exams?” I had barely registered his name when Chloe suddenly appeared. She was surrounded by a crowd of sycophants, all praising her for her “amazing” 1540. “Actually, I know Liam personally. We’ve talked privately quite a bit.” Hearing Liam’s name, Chloe raised her voice slightly. “Last year, when my practice scores dipped, he reached out to me specifically. He told me he wanted to see me at MIT.” “That’s why I worked so hard this year.” Someone gasped. “Meeting at the absolute top… that is so romantic!” Chloe put on a deeply shy expression. Yet her eyes darted toward me, completely triumphant and provocative. I let out a scoff. “I talk to Liam every single day. How come I never heard about him encouraging you?” “Emily, you are a pathological liar.” “Does Liam even know who you are?” Chloe looked at me with pure disdain. “He’s the top physics student at MIT. Do you really think a humanities nerd who cheated on her SATs deserves him?” Suddenly, a voice echoed down the hall: “Emily! The school board officials want to see you in the principal’s office.” Every single person in the hallway turned to stare at me. I heard someone mutter loudly: “Cheating on a standardized test… isn’t that a federal crime?” Chapter 4 I stood in the principal’s office, my back straight, facing the probing gazes of the school board officials. “You’ve reviewed the security footage. You should know I didn’t cheat.” “Of course we know that.” They asked, “Emily, we are simply curious. How did you manage to jump nearly 400 points on the actual exam compared to your practice tests?” I pursed my lips. “Because… I was intentionally tanking my scores.” Westfield High has a very specific, highly lucrative corporate scholarship. It was designed to incentivize underperforming, low-income students. If a student’s final SAT score improved by more than 300 points compared to their junior year baseline, they received a $20,000 “Most Improved” grant. “My family’s financial situation is terrible. I wanted to ease the burden on my mom.” The officials in the room exchanged complex, heavy looks. Someone let out a deep sigh. A moment later, my homeroom teacher walked over and patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry about the money anymore. You’re the top humanities scholar in the state. The academic scholarships alone will cover everything.” Chapter 5 By the time I walked out of the office, the sky was growing dark. The students outside were mostly gone. I unlocked my phone and checked the senior group chat, only to realize what was going on. The school was hosting a massive post-graduation banquet at a nearby hotel. Everyone was there. And Liam had shown up. Someone sent a candid photo of him to the group chat. A tall guy in a white tee and cargo pants stood under the warm hotel lights, a light jacket draped over his arm. He stood perfectly straight, like a stalk of bamboo. His eyelashes were lowered, his gaze cool and distant. Someone like him would be the most dazzling person in any room he walked into. And me… I looked up. My reflection stared back at me in the glass of the school’s bulletin board. I was painfully thin, my features incredibly plain. Because I had been pulling all-nighters working multiple part-time jobs, I even had two massive breakouts on my forehead. I looked absolutely nothing like the flawless AI-generated model photo I had sent him. The group chat was still buzzing. “Liam is so gorgeous, but he looks like he has a lot on his mind. He keeps drinking and zoning out.” “He’s probably thinking about Chloe! They’re supposed to meet at the top, remember?” Chloe popped into the chat to reply: “We met up! We met up!” Since I was completely in the wrong for catfishing him, I originally hadn’t planned on meeting Liam at all. But in that moment, maybe because the summer night breeze was intoxicating… A massive, impulsive urge to see him surged in my chest. However, right as I arrived at the hotel lobby. I pulled out my phone to check which floor the banquet was on. Two new text messages popped onto my screen. From Liam. “That photo wasn’t actually you, was it?” “You must be incredibly ugly in real life. How do you have the absolute nerve to use a fake photo to scam me? You disgust me.” My footsteps halted. My entire body turned to ice. A second later, a new post refreshed on my Instagram feed. It was from Chloe. She was wearing Liam’s light-colored jacket, leaning against his shoulder in a highly intimate, affectionate pose. The caption read: “I finally caught the moon.”

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1 Chloe Kensington and I met while working a part-time job in college. It was at a small coffee shop right next to campus. I noticed her the moment I walked in. She wore a simple white button-down shirt. With her delicate, striking features and pale skin, she looked exactly like the quintessential hardworking, low-income college girl you’d read about in a romance novel. We slowly got to know each other, exchanged numbers, and started hitting the library and working our shifts together. Thanks to Chloe’s stunning looks, everyone on campus soon knew about the beautiful, struggling girl at the local coffee shop. Guys lined up endlessly to ask for her number. At first, she handled it well, but when it got too annoying, she eventually shoved me into the spotlight and claimed I was her boyfriend. I was caught completely off guard. Just as I was about to deny it, I saw the pleading look in Chloe’s dark eyes. Like I was under a spell, I swallowed my correction and silently played along with her lie. Eventually, it naturally transitioned into reality. She confessed her feelings, and we went from fake dating to a real couple. After graduation, we immediately rented a small apartment and moved in together. She told me she was an orphan. I grew up deep in the Appalachian Mountains, raised in poverty, which made me value every dollar. The cost of living in the city was high, and as fresh graduates, our labor was cheaper than anything else. On our days off, Chloe and I would pick up extra side gigs to earn some cash, slowly adding bricks to the little savings fund we were building for our future wedding. So, when I landed a temporary catering gig that paid two hundred dollars an hour, I was thrilled for days. But when I walked into the banquet hall and saw Chloe—who was supposed to be working mandatory overtime at her corporate job—my joyful expression instantly froze. 2 Chloe, who was always so frugal and plain around me, had completely transformed. She was wearing a stunning, strapless red designer gown. The bangs that usually hid her brow were styled elegantly pushed back. She looked absolutely breathtaking. If it weren’t for that familiar face, I might not have even recognized her. The trust-fund kids at the banquet were practically tripping over themselves to shower her with attention. She looked down at their fawning faces with the cold indifference of a goddess. Seeing me frozen in place, Ben, a guy working the gig with me, nudged my shoulder. He looked concerned and asked what was wrong. I shook my head. Staring at Chloe, who was surrounded like a star, a bitter taste filled my mouth. “Who is she?” I asked. Ben glanced over and lowered his voice. “Rumor has it she’s the princess of the Kensington family—old money elites!” Looking at this utterly foreign version of Chloe, an indescribable cocktail of emotions surged in my chest. The girlfriend I had lived with day and night for four years had, in the blink of an eye, morphed from a pitiful orphan into a high-society heiress. I instinctively pulled out my phone and shot her a text. Chloe was sitting lazily on a velvet sofa, surrounded by a crowd, when her phone buzzed. Everyone looked at her and teased, “Ooh, who is it, Miss Kensington?” Chloe picked up her phone, gave the screen a token, uncaring glance, and casually dismissed it. “Nothing. Just spam.” Hearing those words, I felt like I had been plunged into an ice bath. My entire body trembled. So, in Chloe Kensington’s eyes, I, Noah Sterling, was nothing more than disposable spam. It made sense. We had been together for four years, and I didn’t even know her real identity. A sudden wave of pathetic self-pity washed over me. All my hard work and sacrifices felt like a complete joke. I stood in the shadows, silently watching the roaring, glamorous crowd. Sitting right next to Chloe was a handsome man in a tailored suit. They were openly flirting, completely ignoring everyone else around them. They had the effortless chemistry of a deeply in-love couple. Ben rolled out the massive, five-tier custom cake that the kitchen had spent five hours preparing. It was covered in fresh fruit, and the sickeningly sweet smell of frosting wafted across the room. The guests began presenting their gifts to the man. Chloe went last. With a grand wave of her hand, she had staff bring out 999 red roses. The man looked incredibly moved and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. While the rich kids cheered and whistled, I stood there in my goofy, oversized uniform, clumsily holding a tray, watching them. My eyes felt dry, but I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t even find the words to describe what I was feeling. Looking at Chloe Kensington, I felt like I was truly seeing her for the first time. 3 On our first Valentine’s Day together, we were walking down the street when I saw a vendor selling roses. I wanted to buy her a bouquet. When I held the flowers out to her, I thought she would be happy. She wasn’t. Chloe just frowned, a look of distinct disgust crossing her face. What was it she said back then? “Roses don’t symbolize love. It’s just corporate marketing brainwashing women to spend money.” “It’s so tacky. Who even gives roses these days?” Seeing her reluctance to accept the flowers, I joked, “Tacky? I don’t think so! If my baby bought me flowers, I’d cherish them forever! Even when they dried up, I’d still think they were beautiful!” She furrowed her brow and scoffed, “Who would ever buy you roses? Keep dreaming.” Before I could even feel hurt, Chloe plucked a long blade of grass from the park lawn and wove it into a crude, makeshift ring for me. I was so incredibly moved at the time, even feeling guilty for my superficial desire for roses. Now, watching the scene unfold before me, I just felt ridiculous. She never actually thought giving roses was tacky. She just didn’t want to give them to me. 4 The party was lively and loud, but none of it belonged to me. I just watched them quietly until the event ended, collected my paycheck, and left. By the time I got back to our apartment, it was past midnight. Chloe wasn’t home yet. I collapsed onto the couch, utterly exhausted. Today was my birthday, too. I had originally planned to finish the gig and use the extra cash to buy myself a small cake and a present. But the walk home had been a blurry, numb haze. I didn’t stop anywhere. I just walked straight home. I looked at the furniture and the layout of our apartment. We had built this life piece by piece over the years we lived together. We even made a promise that once we saved enough, we would put a down payment on a place exactly like this. That was why I worked so relentlessly to save money. Even though it was my birthday, the moment I saw a gig paying two hundred dollars an hour, I took it without hesitation. And a good thing, too. What if I hadn’t gone? If I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t have seen the truth. Would I have just lived a lie forever? I sat hugging my knees on the couch for God knows how long until I heard the turn of the lock. Chloe was back. She had taken off the luxurious designer gown and changed back into her worn-out, cheap clothes. She had morphed straight from the dazzling high-society princess back into a struggling, ordinary office worker. I looked at her without saying a word. Chloe walked over and immediately tried to wrap her arms around me. I shrugged out of her embrace. Noting the slight fatigue on her face, I asked, “Why didn’t you text me back?” Chloe’s expression stiffened for a fraction of a second before returning to normal. “I’m so sorry, baby, I didn’t even see it. You have no idea how crazy it was at the office tonight, they dumped so much overtime on me.” She looked so genuinely exhausted and wronged. If I hadn’t seen her being worshipped like royalty at that banquet with my own eyes, her acting would have completely fooled me. “Do you even remember what today is?” My voice came out hoarse. “Today is my birthday.” A small, pathetic part of me had hoped her excuse about overtime was real, that maybe she was going to surprise me. We had been together for four years. The first three, she spent every birthday with me. Now, it seemed she simply forgot. Or maybe she was just bored of me. She forgot the birthday of her actual boyfriend, ran off to celebrate another man’s birthday, and casually dropped money on 999 roses—something she had never once given me. My nose stung. I wanted to cry, but I forced the tears back down. Chloe had clearly forgotten. She frowned, quickly apologized, and promised she would make it up to me with a gift tomorrow. I didn’t respond. She assumed I was just throwing a tantrum about the lack of a present, offered a few half-hearted words of comfort, and went to bed. I sat there, neither yelling nor fighting, just watching her sleep. I had traced the lines of her face thousands of times in my mind, but right now, she looked like a total stranger. We had fought before. We had even broken up briefly over heated arguments. But this time was different. Chloe Kensington, this time, I am truly done with you. 5 I handed in my resignation at work. Without telling Chloe, I booked a one-way ticket to Seattle. As I left, I looked out at the city skyline. It was a city that held all the dreams I had built since meeting Chloe. I had been young and naive, foolishly believing I could spend the rest of my life with her, desperately hoping we could carve out a little home of our own in this massive metropolis. But from the very beginning, it was a dream I was having all by myself. Now, I was awake. I grabbed my suitcase and boarded the train. Sitting in my seat, I stared at Chloe’s profile picture. Driven by some final, phantom impulse, I sent her one last message. Then, I blocked her on every single platform. [Chloe, the game of playing poor stops here.] 6 Real life isn’t a movie. No one throws their life away and wallows in misery for years over a failed relationship, myself included. Time moves forward. I gathered myself, updated my resume, and started looking for a new job. Since I was no longer a fresh grad, and the market was saturated with college degrees, my bachelor’s didn’t give me much of an edge. It was a grueling cycle: send resumes, interview, send more resumes, interview again. Thankfully, during the years I was with Chloe, my obsession with saving for our future meant I had a decent safety net. Being temporarily unemployed didn’t push me into poverty. The relentless exhaustion of job hunting left me with zero free time to dwell on Chloe. Soon enough, I landed a position at a solid company and truly settled down. My life became a simple, peaceful straight line between the office and my apartment. I foolishly believed the world was vast enough that, having moved across the country, my path and Chloe’s would never cross again. But fate apparently had a twisted sense of humor. Because while I was presenting a project report, I saw Chloe again. And she was sitting directly in the chair of our newly appointed department manager. I hadn’t seen her in months. She had shed her “poor girl” disguise and returned to her true form as the Kensington princess. She was wearing a custom-tailored power suit, looking exactly as untouchable as she did the night of the banquet. Of course. The struggling girl named Chloe never actually existed. I looked at the newly parachuted manager, pretended I didn’t know her, and professionally handed her my files. Just as I turned to walk out of her office, a hand grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. I looked down at the hand. Chloe. She yanked me back into the office.

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For ten years, Victoria and I had an open marriage. We played our own games. She was deeply intertwined with her young boy toy, while I had a rotating cast of lovers by my side. I thought we would just live the rest of our lives like this. Until I met someone I actually cared about. She didn’t care about my wealth; she just wanted to marry me. My heart skipped a beat. I went home and asked Victoria for a divorce. That night, Victoria smashed every fragile thing in our house and screamed hysterically: “Who gave you permission to get serious?!” Chapter 1 I was dozing off on the living room sofa when the doorbell rang. I shuffled over in my slippers and pulled the door open. A heavily intoxicated Victoria stumbled inside. The young male executive assistant holding her by the waist looked up at me, a distinct hint of provocation in his eyes. “Mr. Hayes, Victoria had a bit too much to drink at the gala, so she asked me to bring her home.” He intentionally emphasized “asked me,” acting like he was the man of the house as he smoothly added: “You should go blend a hangover smoothie for her. Don’t add kale, she hates it.” He smirked, dripping with implication: “She needs to drink it every single morning after getting drunk.” I found it almost amusing. This fresh-out-of-college kid’s attempt to mark his territory was so clumsy and pathetic that I couldn’t even bring myself to care. I pulled Victoria into my arms, took the car keys from his hand, and said flatly: “Alright, thanks. Do you need me to call you an Uber home? “Victoria really should know better. You’ve been with her for so long and she still hasn’t bought you a car? Making you drive the company vehicle just to drop her off.” Noah’s face dropped. He immediately shut his mouth. I didn’t waste another breath on him. I slammed the door shut and lightly nudged the slumped Victoria with my foot. “Alright, quit faking.” Victoria didn’t open her eyes, but there was zero trace of drunkenness in her voice: “Thanks. “He’s been a bit too clingy lately, kept dropping hints about marriage. Figured I’d leave him out in the cold for a bit.” I didn’t say anything. Noah Brooks was different. For years, Victoria and I had an open arrangement. Various frat boys and models came and went from her life, but none lasted longer than three months. She was naturally unfaithful, refusing to linger around any one person for too long. Back then, I thought I would be the exception. But only three years into our marriage, she couldn’t resist playing the field again. Noah, however, was an anomaly. He had been with her for two years. It was obvious that Victoria truly cared for him. If it were anyone else, she would have replaced them by now. But this time, she just wanted to “leave him out in the cold” for a bit. She couldn’t bear to cut him loose. If this had been the past, I probably would have flown into a jealous rage. Now, I just looked at her with a blank expression: “Victoria, let’s get a divorce.” Victoria lazily peeled her eyes open and let out a cold scoff. “Carter, what’s wrong with you now? “Didn’t we agree to an open marriage? Why are you throwing a tantrum again?” She rolled onto her side, her long, sheer-stocking-clad legs curled on the rug. Her slender fingers, painted with a deep burgundy polish, reached out to dismissively hold my hand. “Fine, tonight was my fault. I shouldn’t have let him bring me home. “He’s just a kid, young and naive. Don’t stoop to his level.” I pulled my hand away, opened the drawer of the coffee table, pulled out a divorce agreement, and tossed it in front of her. “I’m serious. “I’ve found someone else.” Chapter 2 Victoria finally bothered to open her eyes fully. But she still wore that lazy, dismissive look, clearly convinced I was just trying to scare her. She picked up the divorce agreement and casually flipped through it, but the expression on her face slowly began to freeze. I leaned over to point things out, afraid she might miss the details. “We have 17 properties in total, including the ski lodge in Aspen and the penthouse in London. I had them appraised. I’ll take 8, you take 9. “As for the company, my equity is 22%. You have the first right of refusal to buy me out at market price. “The rest of the assets are whatever. We can take our respective accounts. See if this works for you. If not, I can have my lawyers draft an addendum.” Victoria slowly sat up straight. That lazy aura vanished from her body in an instant. “Carter.” She looked up at me. Behind her rimless glasses, her sharp hazel eyes flashed with a cold light. Victoria’s eyes were naturally light. Under the living room lights, staring at her felt like looking at something inorganic and ruthlessly cold. “Are you serious?” Of course I was serious. It wasn’t the first time I had brought up divorce, but those instances were years ago. Back then, I used every threat and negotiation tactic in the book just to force her to come back to me. But this time, I genuinely wanted out. “Carter, what is it you want this time?” Victoria irritably tossed the agreement back onto the glass table. “Noah isn’t going to affect us. Why can’t you just tolerate him?!” She assumed I was throwing a fit over Noah. And honestly, when I first found out about him, I did fight bitterly with her. I couldn’t bear to hurt her physically, so I took it out on the house. I practically leveled the place. At my lowest point, I sat amidst the shattered ruins of our home like a madman, holding a shard of glass to my own neck, threatening her to cut ties with Noah. It was useless. She stayed with him anyway. I shook my head. I was such a pathetic, desperate romantic back then. Looking back, I wanted to travel through time and slap some sense into my past self. “It’s not about him this time.” I met Victoria’s gaze and forced a polite smile. “It’s this young girl I’ve been seeing. She’s relentlessly insisting on marrying me. “I really don’t have a choice.” Chapter 3 It was rare to see such a blank, hollow expression on Victoria’s face. After a long pause, her expression turned incredibly ugly. “Carter, I’ve already told you, Noah won’t get in the way of our marriage. “You don’t need to be this petty and vindictive.” She still didn’t believe me. I almost laughed. “How about this? You can take a larger cut of the assets. The Aspen lodge can go to you, too. Deal? “She’s rushing me, so just consider it compensation for your emotional distress.” Victoria stared at me fixedly for a moment, as if confirming whether I was truly dead set on this. She narrowed her eyes, her expression suddenly turning unreadable. “Is it that young girl you brought home the other day?” I nodded. Lily had insisted on coming back to my place once, and Victoria had walked in on us. Lily had even smiled and politely said hi, calling her “Victoria.” Victoria’s face had twitched, but she hadn’t said a word. After all, she was the one who proposed the open marriage. Having lived by that rule for years, she had absolutely zero right to suddenly act like a hypocrite. Thinking of Lily brought an involuntary, genuine smile to my face. Today at the beach, she had given me a pair of diamond cufflinks. The diamonds were maybe half a carat, at best. Compared to my custom-made luxury accessories, they were the most unremarkable, modest pieces in existence. I initially thought they were cubic zirconia and hadn’t paid much attention. But she handed them to me with absolute earnestness: “I know you have a lot of fancy stuff. Please don’t hate these. I bought them with the money from my part-time job. I wanted to save up for something better, but… “Happy Birthday, Carter.” Only then did it hit me—today was my birthday. Victoria hadn’t remembered. Even I had forgotten. The ocean breeze was crisp and damp. Lily’s dark hair clung to her pale forehead. Her eyes were pure, shining light, reflecting nothing but me. A young girl’s love burned wildly, like a fire indifferent to circumstance, carrying the courage to burn everything down. In that fleeting second, her courage infected me. A voice suddenly spoke up in my head. It was my own voice. I was 29. I had been tangled up with Victoria for nine years. How many nine-year stretches did I have left in my life? Was I supposed to live the next several decades exactly like this? The wind howled. The waves crashed against the rocky shore, spraying snow-white foam into the air. A long moment later, I heard myself speak. “Lily… I’ll divorce her and marry you. Okay?” Chapter 4 Honestly, coming back home, I felt a slight twinge of regret. Being deeply tied to Victoria for so long meant that dividing our assets was going to be an absolute nightmare. For both of us, it was going to be a brutal, agonizing process. That was the silent reason why, despite our separate lives, neither of us had ever officially filed for divorce. But remembering the look in Lily’s eyes, a hidden excitement and a sense of reckless liberation surged in my chest. Maybe it was time. Time to start a new life. “You know how kids are,” I smirked. “Impulsive and demanding. If I don’t agree, she’s going to throw a fit. “You understand, right?” I looked directly at Victoria: “Isn’t Noah exactly the same way?” Victoria lowered her brow, a dark, unmistakable hostility bleeding into her expression. “Carter, are you actually serious?” Admitting that I was serious about a girl eight years my junior felt a bit awkward to say out loud. But I nodded anyway. “Lily isn’t like the others.” Those were the exact words Victoria had once used on me. When I cornered her, begging to know why she insisted on keeping Noah, she had smiled helplessly: “Noah isn’t like the others.” Her “others,” of course, included me. I never expected I’d be throwing those exact words back in her face. Victoria froze. A violent storm gathered in her eyes, her fingers gripping the edge of the couch so tightly her knuckles turned white. She mocked: “Carter, you really are regressing. “What could you possibly have in common with an immature little brat?” She gestured with her chin toward my expensive overcoat tossed over the back of the sofa. “She could work for a year and still not afford that coat. “You two aren’t even from the same world.” It wasn’t a lie. Neither Victoria nor I lacked money. While her heart hadn’t been with me for years, neither of us had ever deprived the other materially. Victoria forgot my birthdays and anniversaries, but she would always return the favor when I bought her something lavish. Usually, it was a bespoke Armani suit or the latest Porsche. One year, after I bought her a coastal villa, she bought me a $60 million luxury yacht. No wonder Noah was fighting tooth and nail to stay with her. The lifestyle of the ultra-rich was an intoxicating drug. I brushed my thumb over the modest cufflink on my sleeve. It was an obscure brand. The clarity was average. The setting was generic. It was the kind of thing that had no business being on my person. Yet, I loved it more than anything else I owned. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about that stuff.” Victoria clearly noticed me touching the cufflink. The ones she had gifted me were vintage, hand-painted 18k gold French antiques, won at a private auction in Hong Kong. God knows how many times more expensive they were. I used to wear them like treasures. But after the honeymoon phase of our marriage ended, the emotional distance set in. Or rather, she unilaterally got bored of me. During one of our explosive arguments, I had ripped those cufflinks off and hurled them across the room. I never found them again, and I stopped wearing accessories like that altogether. I repeated myself: “Victoria, let’s get a divorce.” She sat frozen for a moment. Then, she aggressively stood up! Her leg slammed into the glass table. A crystal vase plummeted to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces with a piercing crash. I jolted back, but she lunged forward, grabbing me violently by the collar. Victoria glared down at me, her eyes burning with an unbearable, explosive rage. “Carter Hayes! Who gave you permission to get serious?!”

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