I was out of town on a business trip when my mother-in-law, Carol, called me in the middle of the night. “Jake,” she said, her voice trembling, “Robert has a terminal illness. The doctors say the only chance he has is surgery and a course of specialized medication.” I knew the total costs would run into the millions. I spent the entire night mortgaging two apartments and withdrawing all my savings, planning to visit the hospital the next day. But I discovered all the money I’d managed to gather had been transferred out by my wife, Vanessa. “Brandon said the company needed some research funding,” she explained nonchalantly. “I gave him all of it.” I grilled her: “Do you even realize what that money was for? It was for your father’s medical treatment! He’s terminally ill!” Vanessa scoffed. “Jake, please. At least come up with a plausible lie. Robert is perfectly healthy—stop trying to jinx him.” I stared at the ended call, sitting on the couch in silence for a long time. The next morning, I called Mr. Miller, the company’s CFO, directly. “Can you check something for me? Has Brandon Chen submitted any recent requests for project development funding?” The reply came quickly: “Mr. Dawson, no. However, Mr. Davis did apply for $300,000 for team building last week, and it’s already been approved.” What kind of team building costs $300,000? I remembered the loud music from last night’s call, the suggestive cheers and laughter in the background. My heart sank lower and lower. I called Vanessa again. This time, it rang for ages before she finally answered. In the background, a soft piano melody played—a stark contrast to the previous night’s chaos. “What is it now?” Her voice held a faint edge of irritation. I tried to stay calm, enunciating each word clearly. “That five million dollars—you need to get it back today. There’s no new research project at the company, and your father…” “Jake Dawson, are you ever going to drop this?” Vanessa’s voice suddenly sharpened. “Brandon explained everything last night. It’s a confidential project for a new direction, so of course it wouldn’t show up in regular accounting. You just can’t stand seeing others succeed, can you?” I managed a bitter laugh, though inside I felt a crushing weight of sadness. “The finance department has no record of it. Call him right now and ask for a project plan—even just a draft. If he can provide one, I’ll drop this.” “Who do you think you are, investigating him like this? Interrogating him?” Vanessa shouted. “My father helped you start this company! Now Brandon’s helping me manage *my* legacy! You’re always traveling for work—do you even care if the company survives? I transferred the money, and I’ll take responsibility!” Her claim of being “responsible” sounded like a bad joke. It was true—Robert had provided the seed money to start the company. That’s why I was willing to mortgage everything to save his life. Yet there it was, that money—only to be transferred to a stranger by his own daughter. “Go to the hospital yourself. I’ll text you the address…” Before I could finish, Vanessa scoffed. “Please. I know Robert’s health better than anyone. Brandon said we’ll see initial results in a few days. Then you’ll eat your words about him being a liar.” The call went dead again. I held my phone, staring at the screen where she was saved as “Wife.” For the first time, I felt a strange sense of alienation. I went to the hospital, looked at Robert lying in the bed, and told them the truth. Robert sighed repeatedly, saying nothing. Carol was livid. “That ungrateful girl! We raised her so well, and now her father is dying, and she doesn’t even care? She gave all that life-saving money to a stranger? I need to call her right now and set her straight!” That’s exactly why I’d brought them together—to let them explain directly. As soon as the call went through, Vanessa started complaining. “Mom, I’m in the middle of something. Can this wait until I’m free?” Carol didn’t get a word in before Vanessa hung up.

Carol froze, stunned. She hit redial. This time, it rang forever before finally connecting. “Mom, I told you I’m busy! I’m in the middle of an important business deal!” Vanessa’s voice dripped with irritation. “What’s so urgent it can’t wait? Both of you, blowing up my phone!” Carol couldn’t contain her anger as she confronted her daughter. “Wait until you’re finished? Does your father have to die before you’ll make time for us?!” The line went silent for a few seconds before Vanessa responded. “What are you talking about? Did Jake go running to you again?” “Yes, Jake is right here with me.” Carol looked at her husband’s gaunt face, her voice shaking. “He told us everything, Vanessa. Your father…” “Mom,” Vanessa cut her off sharply. “Let me guess—you’re going to tell me Robert’s deathly ill in the hospital, needs a fortune for treatment, and somehow I’m the one who took that exact amount?” Her words came slowly, each one dripping with sarcasm. Carol had initially doubted my story. But seeing her daughter’s reaction, her heart turned to ice. “What are you talking about? It’s true! Robert is really sick!” Vanessa wasn’t buying it. “I thought Jake was just being petty, making up lies to get his money back. I never thought you’d team up with him to scam me. Mom, when did you become so greedy?” I stood there watching Carol’s face turn bright red. Seeing her helpless frustration, I felt nothing but despair. “That money’s seed funding for company research. Brandon’s a professional—I’ve seen his plans and projections. If this works, the company could be worth millions more! Robert gets annual physicals and he’s perfectly healthy! Stop using him to manipulate me—it won’t work!” Cough… cough, cough, cough… In the hospital bed, silent Robert suddenly erupted into a coughing fit, blood spotting his lips. He stared at his wife’s phone, eyes filled with despair . “Robert?!” Carol rushed to his side in a panic. “Doctor! We need a doctor!” The blood on the sheets terrified Carol. That’s when I learned the full severity of Robert’s condition. The doctor said it was advanced stage. To survive, he needed surgery and long-term specialty medications—costs that would bankrupt most families. The call was still connected, and Vanessa heard the commotion. Just as she started to ask what was happening, Brandon’s voice came on the line. “Vanessa, this is Mr. Stevenson.” She hesitated, then ultimately took Brandon’s side. Robert’s condition deteriorated—his daughter’s words had exacerbated his illness. It took over an hour of treatment to stabilize him, and now he was in the ICU. Naturally, the medical bills would skyrocket. Carol paced outside the room, frantic, calling her daughter repeatedly, but the calls went straight to voicemail. To save Robert, I made a painful decision: “I’ll sell the company. It should net around twenty million. That should cover the ongoing expenses.” Even though Vanessa had made me look like a fool, a human life was on the line. Besides, I was an orphan—ever since I married Vanessa, Robert and Carol had treated me like their own son. Carol hesitated. “But that’s your life’s work, Jake… can you really walk away from it?” “Better than standing here helpless.”

I returned home and immediately started gathering all the company documents. As I did, I couldn’t help but feel the irony. From Robert’s initial million-dollar investment to me fighting for every project, growing it to what it was today—only I knew the blood, sweat, and tears that went into building this company. Now, to save a life, I had to sell it all off just like that. The next day, I contacted several potential buyers through a broker. The process moved faster than expected—probably because the company was solid, with a clean record and stable revenue stream. I finally negotiated an $18 million deal. It was less than I hoped for, but they could pay cash upfront. I rushed back to the hospital to tell Carol the news. “I found a buyer. We’ll sign the contract tomorrow. The process might take a few days, but the money will come through quickly.” I tried to keep my voice steady. Carol looked at the closed ICU door, then at me. Tears silently fell. “Jake… I’m so sorry… you worked so hard to build this company…” I cut her off. “It’s okay, Mom. Companies can be rebuilt. A life lost is gone forever. Let’s focus on getting Robert better first.” She squeezed my hand, nodding gratefully. The next afternoon, I met at a law firm to sign the letter of intent. The buyer’s representative, Mr. Harris, and their attorney, Ms. Rodriguez, were there. My friend Michael, also a lawyer, came to oversee things for me. The initial discussions went smoothly, and all documents seemed in order. Just as we were about to sign, Ms. Rodriguez took a call. After listening, her expression shifted. She stepped aside to confer quietly with Mr. Harris, who immediately frowned. Michael noticed too and leaned over. “Jake, something’s wrong.” At that moment, Ms. Rodriguez approached. “Mr. Dawson, I apologize, but we’ll need to pause this process. I just received a call and faxed document stating that the ownership of Titan Innovations was transferred three days ago. The current legal representative and sole shareholder is Brandon Chen.” I froze when she finished speaking. “As the sole shareholder and legal representative, there’s no way this transfer could have happened without my signature!” Ms. Rodriguez showed me the fax on her phone. “The records we received indicate this. The transfer is listed as a gift from Vanessa Lin.” Vanessa Lin? I stared at the document. Sure enough, my name had been brazenly replaced with Brandon Chen’s in the legal representative field. The shareholder information showed the same. The conference room door burst open. Vanessa strode in wearing high heels, posture elegant, face cold with disdain. “Well, well. Quite the party.” She let out a mocking laugh as she approached the table. “I was wondering where those company documents went. Were you planning to sell *my* company behind my back?” I wasn’t angry—just frowned. “Do you realize what you’re doing? This is Robert’s life-saving money!” Vanessa’s voice turned shrill. “Jake Dawson, I seriously underestimated you. You used my parents for money, and now you’re trying to sell the company out from under me? Good thing Brandon had the foresight to predict your desperation. I transferred ownership to him for safekeeping. At least he’ll manage it properly—better than leaving it with someone who just wants to bleed my family dry!” Brandon stood beside her, eyes glowing with triumph. He sighed dramatically. “Jake, I don’t mean to lecture you. You and Vanessa are married—you should’ve talked this through. Trying to sell the company behind her back… that’s pretty low, even for you.” Honestly, my patience for this nonsense had run out. Looking at this woman, so smug in her ignorance, I felt genuine disgust for the first time. “Low? Using them?” I repeated, voice quiet and dangerous. I stood abruptly, grabbed Vanessa’s wrist, and headed for the door. “What do you think you’re doing?!” “Let go!!!” Vanessa shrieked, struggling violently. I shot back, “You don’t believe me? Fine. We’re going to the hospital—right now. You’ll see for yourself in the ICU if Robert’s faking this.”

Brandon rushed forward and shoved my shoulder. I blocked him with my arm. “This is family business. Stay out of it.” Security guards burst in and separated us. Brandon had only a small cut on his lip, but I was tripped—my lower back slamming into the corner of the conference table. The pain made my vision black out, and I couldn’t stand. Vanessa grabbed an ashtray from the table and threw it at me. It hit my head, and blood poured down my face. But she ran straight to Brandon, looking completely concerned. “Brandon, does it hurt? Are you okay?” Her voice was soft and worried—nothing like the way she’d treated me when I was sick. Brandon shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s just Mr. Dawson…” He glanced at me, trailing off. Vanessa finally looked at me, her expression turning to rage. “Jake Dawson, have you lost your mind?! Assaulting someone in public? Look at you! You’re acting like a thug! This is illegal! Apologize to Brandon right now!” Blood dripped from my forehead into my eyes. I wiped it away with my sleeve, clearing my vision. I forced a bitter smile. In my thirty-something years, had I ever seen anything this absurd? “Apologize? To him?” I looked at Brandon, who was smirking triumphantly. “Yes! Now!” Vanessa insisted, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. I ignored her, bent down to gather the scattered documents. “Michael, handle this.” I limped toward the door. “You can’t just leave! We’re not done here!” “Jake Dawson, get back here!” Vanessa tried to block my path. I kept walking, didn’t look back. Done? What was there to finish? Robert was still in the ICU waiting for treatment. With the company gone, I needed another plan. I took a deep breath, pushing down my emotions. I called old friends who owed me favors—didn’t go into details. Scraping together everything I could, I borrowed over a million. Surgery first, I thought. We’d figure out the medication and other costs later. I grabbed the money and rushed to the hospital. My phone rang on the way—it was Carol. I answered immediately. “Mom, I got some money. I’m on my way now.” “It’s too late…” Carol’s voice was unnaturally calm. “Robert… he’s gone.” “What? Mom, slow down. What happened? This morning the doctors said he was stable.” Carol’s composure broke. Her voice cracked with despair. “He pulled out his tubes… the monitors went crazy… by the time they found him…” I froze. I never thought Robert would do something like that. The next few days were a blur of funeral arrangements. I asked Carol if she wanted to tell Vanessa. She shook her head, face cold. “I don’t have that daughter anymore. I never want to see her again.”

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On the day of the SAT exam, my fiancé Julian suddenly went ballistic. He pulled out a handgun and blew up every single computer in the testing center. The reason? His sister, Willow, had been caught cheating during the SATs, and her score was invalidated. Even the backup servers failed, canceling everyone’s scores for that entire section. Julian faced severe criminal charges because of it. To save him, I arranged for everyone in our class to study abroad, covering all their tuition and living expenses. Later, he and I successfully got into a world-renowned university. But then, his sister Willow was caught cheating again during another exam. Her cheating scandal went viral online, and consumed by the cyberbullying, she fell into depression and jumped from a building, taking her own life. Julian locked himself away for days. When he finally emerged, he looked at me and said he’d figured it out. “This was her destiny.” But then, on the day we were supposed to fly overseas, Julian drugged me and pushed me out of our private plane. “You were jealous of her since you were a child, always trying to put her down.” “Her depression? You drove her to it.” “If you hadn’t falsely accused her of cheating, how would she have died?” I opened my eyes again. And I was back on the day of the SAT exam. Julian wants to go crazy? Fine. Let him. This time, no one’s bailing him out.

Screams echoed through the testing center. When I opened my eyes, Julian had already pulled out his handgun and destroyed the last row of SAT computers. Several proctors and security guards rushed in, pinning him to the ground. As he was dragged away, Julian laughed maniacally: “If Willow can’t take the test, then none of you will!” Twenty minutes later, everyone from the testing center was escorted to the school’s main conference room. The school administration urgently reported the incident to higher-ups, hoping to use backup servers and test papers. While we waited for a resolution, everyone was cursing Julian. “Julian is a lunatic. Willow deserved to get caught cheating. What does that have to do with us?” “This whole section is gone. One SAT score can make or break our college applications. With no score, all our applications are ruined!” “If there’s no retake, I swear I’ll kill Julian and Willow.” “Shh, lower your voice. Scarlett’s here too.” The moment those words dropped, everyone glanced at me. Their expressions were complex, subtle. They all knew Julian did it for Willow. And they all knew Julian was my fiancé, Scarlett. I had always been sickly as a child, repeatedly hospitalized, but doctors could never find a cause. My father was incredibly worried, constantly searching for someone reliable, someone who could look after me from a young age. So, he chose Julian from the welfare system–exceptionally intelligent, incredibly handsome–and groomed him from childhood to be my fiancé. Willow, on the other hand, was the daughter of the maid who later came to work at our house. After Julian met Willow, he changed. He treated Willow like his own sister. But he was my fiancé. Yet he showered her with endless affection. When I brought it up, he’d sneer: “How could someone like you, a rich girl, ever understand what it’s like for Willow and me, living under someone else’s roof?” “I treat her like a sister. We just… understand each other’s struggles, that’s all. Don’t twist it into something sordid.” In my previous life, I believed him. I thought my privileged background made him feel pressured, so I always went out of my way to accommodate them. Over the years, Julian caused endless trouble at school. And every single time, I was the one who cleaned up his mess. But this time, I wasn’t going to. I lowered my head and opened my phone, preparing to message Mr. Davies, telling him to stop handling Julian’s affairs. Just then, the conference room door swung open. The entire room fell silent instantly, all eyes turning to the entrance. Julian walked in, swaggering, hand-in-hand with Willow. Seeing them, everyone’s anger flared. “Julian, how dare you show your face here? Look what you’ve done to us!” “Shouldn’t you be detained? How are you even here?” Julian just smiled dismissively. “Of course I’m here for the exam. The police have cleared everything up. Willow and I are completely fine.” With that, he led Willow directly to the seats beside me and sat down. No one believed the matter could be resolved so easily. But when their eyes fell on me, everyone quieted down again. After all, two-thirds of the students’ parents in this city worked for my family’s corporation. They were angry with Julian but dared not speak out. Julian sat down, not even glancing at me. He was too busy asking Willow if she was feeling better. “I was so scared, my hands are still shaking.” Willow’s eyes were slightly red as she extended a trembling hand. Julian took it publicly, comforting her softly. “It’s okay now. After the SATs, I’ll take you to the Maldives to relax, and you can forget all these unhappy things.” Only then did he bother to look at me. His tone was harsh, like he was ordering a servant. “Scarlett, did you hear me? You’re responsible for making this happen.” I ignored him. Lowering my head, I continued looking at my phone. But then, a message from Mr. Davies popped up: [Mr. Julian and Ms. Willow’s matter has been resolved.]

Seeing that message, I paused. Julian had contacted Mr. Davies directly, making decisions without consulting me. In my previous life, it was also Mr. Davies who bailed Julian out. But I was the one who called Mr. Davies then, and I certainly didn’t bother with Willow’s affairs. Had Julian also been reborn? Regardless of whether Julian had been reborn or not, I wouldn’t allow him to misuse my family’s name for his nefarious schemes again. I sent a message to Mr. Davies, instructing him not to entertain any of Julian’s requests without my explicit approval. At the same time, I messaged several people, one by one, stopping Julian’s credit cards and informing everyone around me that I was no longer responsible for him. The replies came quickly. Some said “Okay.” Others were surprised. My old housekeeper, Mr. Peterson, replied with immense relief: [Ms. Scarlett, you should have stopped covering for that scoundrel ages ago.] I touched my nose, feeling a bit scolded. While Julian was still discussing what dresses Willow should wear to the Maldives, the door was pushed open. The school principal walked in, looking grim, and addressed everyone. “All the backup servers have malfunctioned. There’s no way to retake this section, and everyone’s scores will be canceled.” The conference room was silent for a few seconds. Then, a wave of despair, screams, and crying erupted. The SAT testing center supervisors also looked troubled. With so many students missing a section score, they definitely wouldn’t get into their dream universities. All their hard work, ruined. Soon, everyone’s attention shifted to Julian. At this point, no one cared about his identity anymore. Several tall boys surrounded us, cursing at him and Willow. “Julian, you’ve completely messed up so many people’s lives!” “Willow, you got caught cheating, that’s on you, but why drag all of us down with you?” Some even turned their anger on me: “You’re no better! Julian has been using your name to bully students at school, and you just enabled him, never doing anything about it. You three are all trash!” They were just teenagers, unable to control their tempers. Their shouting escalated, and then hands started flying. Fortunately, I had taken Taekwondo before. After dodging a few punches, I couldn’t help but shout: “They’re the ones who messed up! What does this have to do with me? I’m a victim too!” But their voices were too loud, and my protests were swallowed by the shouts. I could only continue to protect myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julian tightly shielding Willow behind him. Even though I was utterly disappointed in this man, my heart couldn’t help but feel a tiny prick. With school officials present, they couldn’t actually let these students beat Julian to death. The two sides were pulled apart. Julian, having taken a few punches, had blood at the corner of his mouth. He wiped the blood with the back of his hand and cursed, “You damn brutes, how dare you hit me? I’ll sue all of you! You’ll all end up in jail!” Someone in the crowd was furious. “Julian, are you even human? You’ve ruined the futures of so many people, and you can still say something like that!” “We’re not like you, backed by the Scarlett family. We’re ordinary people, and we all relied on the SATs to turn our lives around!” At this, many felt a deep resonance, and couldn’t help but start crying. Julian waved his hand, “Alright, stop crying. I’ll take responsibility for all of you.” One person glared at him, “Easy for you to say. Everyone’s SAT scores are ruined now. How are you going to take responsibility?” “Life isn’t just about the SATs,” Julian smirked. “Don’t you want to study abroad?”

Compared to the SATs, studying abroad was indeed a better and often simpler path. Everyone quieted down, waiting for Julian to continue. He stood on a chair and announced loudly. “As long as you don’t hold me accountable for ruining the SATs today, I’ll help all of you study abroad. I’ll cover all tuition and living expenses.” Hearing that familiar line, I was even more certain that Julian had also been reborn. Because in my previous life, I was the one who said those words. “If anyone prefers not to go abroad and wants to stay and retake the SATs, I’ll also provide appropriate compensation.” At this, no one had any objections. People stopped clenching their fists and instead came forward, fawning, asking if he was serious. Julian tilted his head back, “Of course it’s true. I never lie.” Everyone cheered. Yet not a single person noticed that I, Julian’s financial backer, hadn’t said a word. Not even Julian asked for my opinion. Perhaps in his mind, whatever he said, I would willingly agree. With the problem seemingly resolved, the school no longer detained anyone. The conference room doors opened wide, and Julian and Willow walked out front, as if they had won a great victory. However, as soon as they exited the school building, they were blocked by a crowd of parents. Naturally, these were the parents whose children’s SAT scores had been ruined. Julian was surrounded once again. The parents were even more agitated than the students, yelling insults that were exceptionally harsh. Julian looked annoyed. Seeing this, the students quickly stepped forward to explain for him, saying he had promised everyone a large sum in compensation. The parents naturally didn’t believe it. “He’s just a poor student. Where would he get the money to compensate so many people?” After all, the amount Julian promised added up to tens of millions of dollars. The students excitedly said, “He’s no ordinary student! He’s Julian, Scarlett’s fiancé! You know Scarlett, right? Her dad is super rich!” Hearing this, the parents’ expressions did soften somewhat. My dad genuinely had the means to cover these expenses, and he was famously devoted to his daughter. However, adults thought things through more than teenagers. They still surrounded Julian, blocking his way, saying that a verbal agreement was useless. “You say you’ll arrange for us to go abroad, but how can we believe you without a written agreement? What proof do we have?” Julian coldly swept his gaze over them, disdainfully saying, “You common folk are always so troublesome. It’s just a contract, isn’t it? I’ll call my lawyer to draft it right now.” His tone was arrogant, as if he’d forgotten he was once an ordinary person himself. He pulled out his phone and publicly called Mr. Davies. However, after several attempts, no one answered. Several parents’ faces fell. “See? I told you kids’ words can’t be trusted. Do you really have a lawyer? Why isn’t he answering your calls?” Julian put his phone away and looked at me, demanding, “Why isn’t Davies answering his phone?” I scoffed. “How should I know? Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to you.” Julian didn’t understand my hidden meaning. He ordered me, “Fire him tomorrow. If he can’t be on call 24/7, then he’s not my lawyer.” I found it a bit amusing. I wanted to say, he’s not your lawyer to begin with. Before the sarcasm could escape, the parents angrily said: “Stop making excuses! No written contract, no leaving today!” Even if Julian had been reborn, he couldn’t handle the interrogation from these adults. “Fine, you just want money, don’t you? I’ll transfer you a deposit first, alright?” Julian took out his phone and spoke to the parent who had been shouting the loudest: “Come on, give me your bank account number. I’ll transfer you one hundred thousand dollars.” The parent happily took out their phone and rattled off their account number. Julian opened his SnapChat, entered the account number, and then the hundred-thousand-dollar amount. After clicking confirm, the screen displayed: [Insufficient Funds!] I couldn’t help but smile.

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My husband, Mark Vance, and his intern, Tiffany Bloom, were in the middle of a three-day sex challenge. I sent him the news: I was pregnant. The next second, Mark called me on FaceTime. On the screen, he and Tiffany were sitting on a sex swing in some kinky hotel room, handcuffs and whips dangling nearby. “Go get rid of it,” he said, his voice flat. “Tiffany would be so upset otherwise.” I calmly refused him. “No way.” Mark paused, then sneered. “Then divorce it is.” A wave of relief washed over me. “Good. I’ll get the divorce papers ready immediately!” My dream of becoming a single mom, on my own terms, was finally coming true. “Ashley Hayes, be reasonable. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Mark snuffed out his cigarette. I shook my head. “I’m not making anything harder. I love this baby. I’m having it!” At my words, Tiffany, nestled in his arms, burst into louder sobs. Half out of spite, half as a blatant challenge to me, she hooked her arms around Mark’s neck and bit him hard. Mark didn’t spare me a single glance. He just pulled her in for a searing deep kiss. Knowing when I wasn’t wanted, I quietly ended the FaceTime call and called a cab to head home. As soon as I got in the car, Mark’s call came through again. His neck was dotted with fresh bite marks. “She got upset and bit me. Don’t worry, they’ll be gone before I come home.” Only then did I remember. Mark and I had an agreement. No matter how many women he was with, no matter how wild he got, he had to come home spotless. No traces. He had cheated so many times, so often that I’d forgotten when I stopped loving him. I immediately shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re getting divorced anyway.” He stared at me, his lips pressed together, saying nothing. Then, Tiffany started to throw another tantrum. “You’re never going to get rid of the baby! Are you?! I’m never going to be intimate with you again!” Tiffany started punching Mark’s chest. Mark’s expression tightened. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and delivered his final ultimatum to me. “Ashley, I don’t want this baby.” “You don’t want it, but I do!” I quickly hung up. When I got out of the cab, the driver hesitated, then spoke. “Your husband is unbelievable! Aren’t you going to confront that woman?” I simply smiled. “I did! That’s how I lost my first baby.” The driver fell silent, unable to find another word. I’d never been loved by my parents. They showered all their affection on my cousin, barely giving me the time of day. So, I always yearned for someone, a blood relative, to love me unconditionally. I met Mark just a week before I was scheduled to visit a sperm bank. He was handsome, intelligent. Soon, I started wanting to have a child with him. I even fell in love. Later, I married Mark, just as I’d wanted. When I first discovered his infidelity, I, like any wife, was devastated, heartbroken, and hysterical. But he would always apologize, and then, behind my back, he’d continue his affairs. I looked down, gently stroking the life growing inside me. After the divorce, I would raise this child well.

I was drafting the divorce papers when Mark walked in, a bouquet of roses in his hands. Mark always brought me a gift when he came home. Sometimes it was cake, sometimes jewelry. He skillfully replaced the withered roses in the vase, his tone gentle. “Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to the clinic for the abortion.” Such a gentle voice, yet such chilling words. In the past, I would have cried and fought with him. But I didn’t love him anymore. I held up my laptop for him to see. “Here are the divorce papers. If there are no issues, I’ll print them.” Mark, still holding a dried rose, a slight smile playing on his lips, said, “Still throwing a fit, huh?” He sighed, then smoothly ran his hand through my long hair. “Ashley, I’m exhausted. Can we please not do this right now?” Three days and three nights with Tiffany in a kinky hotel, of course he was exhausted. “Mark, I’m serious.” But Mark pushed the laptop back, then ignored me, slumping onto the couch. “Ashley, could you whip up that protein shake for me? The one with all the boosters.” I ignored him. We were getting divorced; he still expected me to be his caretaker?! “If you’re okay with it, I’m heading to the print shop.” Mark suddenly jolted up from the couch. “You’re really going to divorce me?” I nodded without hesitation. He sat up on the couch, waving me over with a dismissive gesture, like I was his pet. “Bring it over. Let me see.” I handed it to him. He scanned it quickly. “Go print it.” Without a moment’s hesitation, I transferred the document to my phone, grabbed my jacket, and headed downstairs. As I closed the door, Mark leaned back on the couch, smiling at me, but the smile never reached his eyes. When I returned from the print shop, I found Mark and Tiffany roughhousing in the kitchen. “Careful! You’re hurting me!” Tiffany pouted, reaching out to pinch Mark’s face. He leaned down, cupped her waist, and kissed her. What a picture of pure domestic bliss, like something from a bad rom-com. Unfortunately, my opening the door broke the spell. Mark’s hand, which had been on Tiffany’s waist, dropped instantly. His eyes, however, remained tender. “You’re back.” Tiffany acted as if she hadn’t seen me, clutching his shirt and murmuring about not having enough kisses. Mark glanced at me. “Tiffany’s spoiled, Ashley. Don’t be mad.” In our three years of marriage, Tiffany had been his longest-running affair, the one he clearly doted on the most. I nodded, walking over with the divorce papers. “I’ve signed it. Once you sign, we can finalize the divorce on Monday.” Seeing Tiffany pouting and clinging to him, I added considerately, “I can move out today to give you two some space.” Tiffany’s eyes immediately lit up. “Oh, can I move in tonight then?!”

The day after I stopped loving him, I rented an apartment that I’d kept empty all these years. I couldn’t stand being in a place that carried Mark’s scent. “Just sign first. I’ll go pack my things.” I placed the document on the table and turned to get my suitcase from the balcony. “You don’t care about me at all!” Amidst Tiffany’s soft accusations, a warm body pressed against my back. Mark had one arm around me, the other reaching for my suitcase. “Ashley, are you still mad?” I felt a surge of nausea and instinctively tried to push him away. Mark only held me tighter. “You found out about the challenge, didn’t you? If you’re mad, once I’ve recovered, we can try an even bigger challenge…” “Don’t touch me!” I couldn’t help it. I stomped on his foot. As Mark winced in pain, I broke free from his embrace. As much as I used to crave his hugs, I now found them utterly repulsive. His arms had been wrapped around another woman just moments ago, and now he was holding me, whispering sweet nothings. A flicker of shock crossed Mark’s eyes. He maintained the pose of holding me. “Ashley, what will it take for you to stop being angry?” “If you don’t want to go tomorrow, we can pick another day, and I’ll go with you to get rid of the baby.” As he said this, his usual gentleness returned. But Mark’s gentleness was like a puddle of mud; anyone could step in it. I suppressed the urge to gag. “No need. Just sign the papers quickly. I’ll make space for you two.” The curve of Mark’s lips gradually straightened. “Ashley, I don’t want this baby.” “Stop acting out. I’m serious.” “So am I.” The darkness in Mark’s eyes deepened, his aura growing colder. Just as I thought he was about to explode, He simply curved his lips. “How about tomorrow? My friend’s having a birthday party. You don’t mind if I take Tiffany, do you?” Mark was smiling, but I felt no warmth from it. Whether he smiled or not was irrelevant to me now. I shook my head. “Whatever.” Mark turned without hesitation, striding over to sweep the crying girl into a princess carry. His voice was louder than usual, resonating through the house. “My little crybaby. I just said a few words to Ashley, and your eyes are all swollen. You’re only allowed to cry like that in bed from now on.” Tiffany choked back a sob and nodded. As they left, Tiffany spoke, seemingly casually. “Oh, are there roses here too?” “But they’re not as big as the ones you gave me, and not as red…” The rest of her words were swallowed by the closing door. I walked over, picked up the vase, flowers and all, and tossed them into the trash. Mark seemed to be deliberately provoking me, his Ins feed refreshed eighteen times that night. Every single post was sickeningly intimate shots with Tiffany. We were getting divorced anyway; there was no point in keeping him. I unfollowed him, then switched to my burner account to unfollow, only to find those eighteen posts were set to “visible only to me.” I’d made this burner account back when I still loved him, just to keep tabs on his shenanigans. Since I didn’t love him anymore, there was no need for it. I deactivated the burner account and started packing. By midnight, all my belongings had been moved to the rented apartment. For the first time, the air felt fresh, devoid of that foul, decaying stench, filled only with the scent of me and my baby. Lying on the unmade sofa, I slept soundly. Remembering I needed to ask him when he’d sign the divorce papers, I unblocked Mark and sent a message, only to get a red exclamation mark. I didn’t think much of it, quickly tidied up, and went to the supermarket for groceries. Even though I didn’t know if the baby was a boy or a girl, I couldn’t help but linger in the baby section. I picked out a few outfits, wondering if my child would like them. As I hesitated over a pink baby bottle, I heard a familiar voice. “The milk is over there! Don’t go that way…” It was Tiffany’s sickly sweet voice. Then Mark appeared, immediately rummaging through my shopping cart. “Ugh, Ashley, your taste is awful. Are you sure the baby will like these things?” “This outfit is for a five-month-old. The baby won’t even fit into it when it’s born, and you’re buying these already, right after getting pregnant?” “Ashley, do you… do you even like our baby?” Mark’s lips thinned, an expression I couldn’t decipher. I remembered that, from some unknown day, he had started looking at me like that often. Each time I asked what was wrong, Mark would open his mouth but say nothing for a long while. Then he started cheating. I put down the bottle and asked him, “Did you sign the agreement?” Mark scoffed. “Are you really that fond of this baby, or are you just still trying to get a rise out of me?” His expression was cold, completely unlike his usual gentle demeanor. He didn’t even bother to comfort Tiffany, who was now following him, red-eyed. I watched the woman publicly cling to Mark, demanding a kiss, and tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Does it matter?” “It’s either me and the baby, or just you.” Anyone who didn’t know him might think Mark was a deeply loving man. I stroked my belly. “Of course, it’s the baby.” A blood relative, someone who would love me for no reason. I had longed for it, for so long. Mark was, at best, a jerk I used to love. How could he compare to my child? Suddenly, Mark grabbed Tiffany by the waist. “She’s carrying my baby too, and I only want the child Tiffany gives me. Ashley, I don’t want the child you give me.” A flicker of shock crossed Tiffany’s eyes, quickly replaced by joy as she hugged him back, calling him ‘honey’. “Oh, don’t worry. This baby is for me. I would never ask you to take any responsibility for it,” I said. “Fine… just fine,” Mark ground out through clenched teeth. “Who knows if you’ll try to get child support from me!?” “I’m taking you to the clinic to get rid of it right now!”

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I went to pick up my drunk husband. The moment I pushed open the club door, I heard him complaining: “My wife reeks of grease and cooking smoke. Makes me want to puke.” His secretary cut him off with a flirty whine, “If you hate her so much, why don’t you just divorce her?” Marcus ran his hand along her thigh, eyes glazed over: “She’s just a free maid. How could she compare to you?” When he noticed me standing in the doorway, he froze. Then he stumbled over to me: “I was just messing around with my friends. Don’t take it seriously.” Whether it was a joke or not didn’t matter anymore. I’d received a job offer from another city. In seven days, I could finally dump this drunk of a husband. Marcus clearly relaxed when he saw I wasn’t angry. He waved awkwardly at the others: “My wife and I are heading home.” Barely suppressed laughter and gossip followed us out. “Claire used to be the Queen Bee at school. Can’t believe her body turned out like this.” Back home, Marcus woke up in a daze and leaned in to kiss me: “Happy birthday, honey. I really had too much to drink today. I was talking nonsense. I’m sorry.” I turned my head away. He followed, wrapping his arms around me from behind: “Are you really mad? I messed up. I won’t drink anymore.” “Let me make it up to you right now?” His hand slid down habitually. “Claire, we should have a baby.” I closed my eyes. “Marcus, I’m tired. I need some quiet.” He mumbled: “Fine, whatever you want.” Ten years as a housewife. Every day shopping for groceries, cooking, cleaning. Every friend who visited praised how warm and tidy our home was. My hands were covered in calluses from exhaustion. But in Marcus’s eyes, I was just a maid who slept with him. The next morning, Marcus shook me awake. “Amber is coming over today to discuss company business with me. She’s been having stomach issues lately, so make something light.” “If her stomach’s bothering her, why doesn’t she eat at her own place?” Marcus said matter-of-factly, “Just make two extra dishes. How hard can it be?” How hard can it be? I sat up and looked at this man I’d loved for ten years. His brows furrowed slightly, wearing that “why are you being so unreasonable” expression. “Fine,” I said. Then turned around and ordered a whole table of takeout. Not playing maid anymore. At the dinner table, Amber sat in the seat closest to Marcus, constantly serving him food. Talking about their work stories. “Marcus, do you remember? When we went to the beach, you helped me put on sunscreen. You were so clumsy.” Marcus tapped her nose playfully: “Don’t even mention it. I almost got beaten half to death by your parents that day when we got back. They wanted me to take responsibility for you.” Amber covered her mouth: “I was just young back then. You bad boy~” Then she looked at my stomach. “Claire, you have so much fat on your belly. Could use it as a flotation device.” Marcus frowned too: “Honey, you really should lose some weight.” I touched my stomach. There was a tiny life inside. “Marcus, I…” Before I could finish, an urgent voice cut me off. “Claire, Amber and I have work to discuss.” Before finishing his sentence, Marcus and Amber went into the study together. Instantly, a wave of nausea surged through me. I forced down the disgust and slowly walked to the study door. Soon, muffled panting came from behind the wall, mixed with Amber’s moaning. “Marcus, ah, me or your wife, who’s better?” Marcus grunted in response, “Of course it’s Amber. You’re so sexy! I love you the most.” So careful, so affectionate. Turns out Marcus at thirty could still go at it. After listening for a while, right when they were finishing up, I knocked on the study door. The sounds inside suddenly stopped. Marcus’s voice came out hoarse: “What is it, Claire?” “Looking for something.” The door opened. Marcus sat in his chair drenched in sweat, while Amber leaned against the desk, face flushed. “Is Amber okay?” I took a step forward. “Just feeling a bit off. I’ll take a shower and be fine. You do your thing, Claire.” She ran off. Marcus chased after her, “Amber’s not feeling well, I’ll go check on her.” I pulled out the ultrasound report from the drawer. If Marcus had really been discussing work, he would have seen it when he opened the drawer. I’d originally planned to tell Marcus this surprise, turn down the job offer, and settle down to prepare for the baby. Not anymore. Because the baby had already miscarried. And I was completely done with him! I tore the ultrasound report to shreds and tossed it in the trash. When I came out, I saw Amber wearing that silk nightgown I’d been too precious to wear myself.

The nightgown was last year’s birthday gift from Marcus. Water blue. He said it was like the ocean, that it suited me. When she saw me, she showed no embarrassment. Instead, she tilted her head, her tone innocent and sweet. “Claire, I was just looking for nightwear and accidentally went through your closet. Everything in there looks like old lady clothes.” “Marcus just got promoted to general manager. How can he take you anywhere dressed like that?” Hearing this, Marcus’s gaze swept over my faded home clothes. “She has zero sense of style. All day around the stove, all she can think about is housework.” My expression turned cold. Amber seemed frightened, her eyes reddening: “Those clothes were too dated. This was the only decent one.” Marcus stepped in front of her, reaching out to protect her. “Why are you arguing with a young girl?” “Which part of what I said was arguing?” Amber hid behind Marcus and said quietly: “I was just trying to protect this nightgown. One touch from those hands and it’ll snag.” Marcus nodded, “Honey, just let Amber have it. The calluses on your hands will ruin it anyway.” I laughed, “How about this—you can have the husband too?” After that day, Marcus seemed a bit guilty and tried to smooth things over. He bought me flowers, apologizing awkwardly. I didn’t accept the flowers or acknowledge his apology. I started going out frequently, to the library, staying all day. I was picking up those dusty professional books again. Physics, chemistry, bioengineering, cryptography. Complex formulas and theories had once been part of my life. Later, for so-called love and family, I’d sealed them away with my own hands. But now I could restart. Marcus flipped through the books I brought home, his face full of disbelief: “Why are you reading this gibberish? Claire, you’re a housewife. Have you lost your mind? Or are you just putting on a show for me?” He was convinced I was performing, trying to get his attention. I didn’t explain. Explaining would be like talking to a brick wall. Four more days, and I’d be gone. On Amber’s twenty-fifth birthday, Marcus threw her a birthday party at our house. “Isn’t Claire coming down to join us?” “I’m not feeling well.” I lowered my eyes. Marcus put his arm around her shoulder, laughing: “Claire’s been like this lately, don’t mind her. You’re the star today.” As I turned to go upstairs, I heard Amber’s sweet voice: “Marcus, you’re so good to Claire. You’re not even mad when she acts like this.” “She’s getting older, it’s normal for her temper to get weird.” Marcus answered carelessly. I put on my noise-canceling headphones and listened to academic lecture recordings. Better to prepare early so work wouldn’t be so hard to handle. Halfway through the party, I got terribly thirsty and went downstairs for water. At the stairway landing, Amber deliberately tilted her wine glass and bumped into me. Red wine splashed all over me and her dress too. “Ah, my dress!” Amber screamed, tears immediately welling up, “Claire! Why did you push me? This is the birthday gift Marcus gave me!” The commotion drew Marcus and the guests. Amber cried, face streaked with tears, pointing at the stain on her dress, then at me. Then she whispered in my ear: “Could it be that because you’re sagging and your husband won’t buy you body-hugging dresses like this, you’re jealous of me?”

Marcus looked at Amber’s tears, his face dark with anger. He didn’t even ask me a single question. He grabbed my wrist, gripping so hard it felt like he’d crush my bones. “Claire! That’s enough!” He roared, his eyes full of fury and disappointment. “I know you’re resentful, but what did Amber ever do to you?” “She’s innocent, just trying to get along with you. And you? Look what you’ve become!” “Spiteful, vicious. Weren’t you afraid you could’ve hurt Amber pushing her like that? Apologize! Apologize to Amber right now!” The guests whispered among themselves, their eyes full of contempt for me. “I heard last time she threw a fit for days just because Amber mentioned her sagging.” “Women, after thirty, they’re all like this. Sensitive and paranoid.” “Amber’s so young and beautiful, of course she’s jealous.” I used all my strength to pry his fingers off me, one by one. “Let. Go.” He froze, apparently not expecting me to fight back. “Marcus, this kind of stunt is eight hundred years old. Only you would fall for it.” Marcus turned red with rage. Amber made a show of trying to calm things: “Maybe Claire’s just in a bad mood. I’m fine. The dress can be washed…” “It’s a limited edition! It can’t be washed clean!” Marcus got even angrier. He yanked his hand away forcefully. I stumbled backward, my back hitting the wall. I slowly slid down to the floor, a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Marcus’s eyes were bloodshot. “You were pregnant—why didn’t you tell me earlier!” I shook my head, “What would be the point? After I gave birth, would you just start making jokes about my breast milk, my stretch marks, my loose belly?” Marcus’s expression froze. “Why are you taking jokes so seriously?” “Jokes?” I looked at him, “Every time you said my body had gone to hell, that I couldn’t compare to younger women, that I was an old hag—those were all jokes?” “Last time I spoke without thinking!” He said urgently, “I was wrong, I apologize. Whatever exercise you want to do, I’ll support you. I’ll pay for the most expensive personal trainer, the most expensive beauty treatments, okay?” He reached out to touch my face. I turned away. He came closer, hugging me from behind: “Are you really that angry? I was wrong, I was wrong. I won’t drink anymore.” “Can I make it up to you properly now?” His hand slid down habitually. “Claire, we should have a baby.” I closed my eyes. “Marcus, I’m tired. I want some peace.” He muttered: “Fine, whatever.” Ten years as a housewife. Every day grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning. All our friends praised how warm and cozy our home was. Exhausted until my hands were covered in calluses. But in Marcus’s eyes, I was just a maid who slept with him. The next afternoon, Marcus came back, with Amber following behind him. “Claire, I’m sorry.” Her eyes were red and swollen, like she’d been crying for hours, “I hope you can forgive me.” Her attitude was impeccably sincere. Marcus said: “Amber felt so guilty she hasn’t eaten all day. She insisted on coming to see you. Claire, she’s apologized like this, just let it go.” I looked at the two of them, one handsome and wealthy, one young and beautiful, standing together like a poster for a romance series. And me, lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, body out of shape, the picture of a bitter wife.

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After we got engaged, my fiancé sent me a child from overseas. Included was an email: “Eleanor, I was so bored that Tiffany and I ended up with a kid. Since you will be my wife, I am entrusting him to you. Get to know him. You will be our nanny when we come home.” I turned the child over to the butler, Mr. Davies. Seven years later, Derek Blackwood finally pulled up to the gates in a flashy sports car. A cigarette dangled from his lips. He tilted his head, slid off his sunglasses, and smirked. “Did you miss me so much that you came to wait for me early? Tiffany and I married overseas for the kid’s sake. But do not worry. I will still give you a wedding.” He blew smoke rings toward me. The fumes stung my eyes and I stumbled back. Had no one told him in the past seven years that I’d married his mafia boss uncle? Seeing my reaction, Derek walked over and slapped my shoulder. “Wow, moved to tears! Keep Tiffany and me happy, and you might still get to be Mrs. Blackwood.” I almost laughed in his face. “Derek, what ever gave you the idea I’m desperate to marry you?” He stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “You got engaged to me at twenty. You’ve been raising my kid for years. Who else would have you?” Thank God I dumped that asshole seven years ago and married his uncle instead. A few years back, when we said goodbye at the airport, he’d held me tightly, promising solemnly, “Eleanor, wait for me for five months. I’ll make something of myself and come back to marry you.” Turns out, he’d only been gone a month. Then, his and Tiffany Reed’s child was sent back. They’d been secretly seeing each other all along. The thought of it made me raise my hand, ready to slap him. But before my hand could land, a child’s voice interrupted me. “Mommy!” Max suddenly popped out, holding his arms open for a hug. My husband was busy with meetings today, so I was taking care of Max alone. I bent down to pick up Max, but someone abruptly snatched him away. “Who are you calling Mommy?! I’m your mother!” Tiffany Reed burst out from behind Derek, seething, and slapped Max twice. My eyes twitched with rage. I spun around and pushed her. Before she could even fall, she grabbed Derek’s sleeve and began to sob dramatically. “Derek, I just want the child to call me ‘Mom.’ Eleanor refused and then tried to hit me!” Her cry instantly drew all the bodyguards. They surrounded Max and me, while Derek just watched with cold eyes. I shielded Max behind me, gritting my teeth. “Are you all blind?! You’re surrounding me for a mere housekeeper?! Do you even know who I am?” “Enough!” Derek snapped, then snuffed out his cigarette and pointed at me. “Eleanor, who gave you the guts to talk to Tiffany like that? She’s Mrs. Blackwood, the child’s biological mother! You not only stopped them from bonding, but you publicly insulted her?” I scoffed, pushing his hand away. “This child isn’t hers!” A low-class housekeeper, trying to claim my son as her own? If I hadn’t been kind enough to give her a job as a maid back then, she would’ve starved. Who knew she’d go and seduce my fiancé? Derek grew even angrier. He snatched Max from my arms and thrust him into Tiffany’s. Max’s cries echoed through the yard. “You’re bad people! Go away!”

Seeing Max’s face, red and tear-stained. My heart ached. But just then, Tiffany dropped to her knees at my feet. She stroked the child’s small face, weeping loudly. “Eleanor, even if you hate me, you can’t abuse my child!” With that, she pulled up Max’s shirt, revealing red marks on his back. Derek’s eyes widened, and when he looked at me again, his expression had changed. “Eleanor! I kindly entrusted the child to you for practice, I trusted you so much, and you dared to whip him?!” “Did you become this malicious just because you couldn’t have me?” Max’s back was covered in parallel whip-like marks, terrifying in shape. Derek couldn’t even imagine what kind of life his son had endured these past few years. But he didn’t know. It was just a high fever. I had taken Max to a specialized pediatric clinic where they performed a traditional therapeutic treatment to bring down the fever. A few days ago, Max had a high fever, but due to his sensitive constitution, he couldn’t take medication. So the doctor suggested trying the alternative treatment. At the time, even my husband couldn’t quite understand the treatment, and he’d had Mr. Davies, and even the nutritionists, all sent out of the mansion. If my husband knew Derek was bullying Max and me like this now, he’d probably have one of his hands chopped off. Seeing that my people were already streaming through the gates. I was done playing games. I pointed at the two disgusting creatures and roared, “Take them down! Teach them the Blackwood family rules!” Derek’s face flushed a furious crimson. As he fought off the bodyguards, he didn’t forget to yell at me. “Eleanor, if you keep acting crazy, I swear I’ll never want you! I’ll have you thrown out of the Blackwood mansion right now!” I sneered. “Just try it!” These bodyguards were carefully handpicked by Max’s dad. With them here, Max and I wouldn’t suffer. Seeing she couldn’t gain the upper hand, and noticing the bodyguards were wary of Max in her arms, Tiffany’s eyes darted around. She immediately gripped Max, threatening, “Stop now! Or I’ll choke him!” Max struggled desperately in her grasp, his face turning from blue to purple. Even his cries gradually faded. I instantly pulled out the small dagger from my pocket and lunged, stabbing fiercely at her. She shrieked and immediately let go. I pounced, quickly helping Max to breathe. “Max, don’t be scared, Mommy’s here!” Seeing the child convulsing, gasping for air. I quickly pulled out his asthma rescue inhaler, just about to give it to him. But Tiffany, reeling from her injury, threw her arms around me. She went wild, clawing and biting at me. “You bitch! You abused my child, and now you’re trying to murder him in public!” Derek’s face went pale. He bellowed, “Eleanor, how dare you!” But it was too late. The medicine was already in Max’s mouth. Almost simultaneously, the child’s convulsions and wheezing gradually subsided. Only then did the two of them fall silent. But Max had been over-stimulated and fainted. He needed an IV immediately. I ordered the bodyguards to hold them back, then turned and ran, carrying Max. Derek’s furious shouts exploded behind me. “Eleanor, you’ve made enough of a scene! If you leave, you’ll never be my woman again!” “Like I care!” He sneered. “So tough! If I don’t want you, who else will?” Too bothered to argue with a mad dog, I simply gave my orders. “To the estate!”

The moment I got out of the car, I immediately sent someone to inform my husband, then rushed Max to the family doctor. Max had woken up at some point. His small hand clutched my shirt tightly, and he didn’t forget to comfort me. “I don’t hurt, Mommy, don’t cry…” The more understanding he was, the more guilty and regretful I felt. If I hadn’t brought him back to the Blackwood house today, we wouldn’t have run into those two lunatics. “Ma’am, please don’t worry, the child will be fine!” The doctor reassured me. But just as I placed Max into the recovery chamber. The infirmary door was violently kicked open again. Derek burst in, carrying Tiffany. Seeing me, a triumphant smirk flashed across his face. He looked at me with disdain. “Just moments ago you said you didn’t care, and now you’re running back to my uncle’s estate?” Tiffany cowered in his arms, her eyes filled with venom. “Eleanor, do you even know Derek’s uncle is a mob boss?! If you offend him, he’ll throw you to the alligators!” With that, Derek put her down, shoved the doctor aside, and grabbed me, trying to drag me away. “Eleanor, hurry up and get out!” Max, seeing him bully me, picked up a nearby water cup and hurled it at him. “Ah-” Derek’s face darkened terrifyingly. He picked Max up with one hand. “Are you trying to die?! Daring to throw something at your own father!” Seeing Max scream hysterically, his face turning blue and purple again. I struggled desperately, slapping Derek across the face. “Let go of my son!” Tiffany grabbed a nearby sterile cotton pad, intending to gag me. “Bitch, keep your voice down! If you disturb his uncle, we’ll all be punished!” She suddenly went mad, unleashing a burst of strength I didn’t know she had, knocking me to the ground and clamping the cotton pad over my mouth. Tiffany and I began to fight. Amidst her shrieks, Derek looked at me, utterly stunned. “Eleanor, I thought you had some upbringing, that’s why I let you take care of my child, but look at you now! You’re like a maniac! From today on, Tiffany and I will raise Max ourselves!” The words had barely left his lips when he suddenly let out a cry of pain. Max, seeing me being bullied, was desperate. He bit down with all his might on Derek’s hand, right on the web between his thumb and forefinger. Max had always been incredibly attached to me. When he was four, he’d use his tiny fists to try and scare off stray cats for me, standing defiantly in front of me, his voice a sweet, determined squeak, “Don’t you dare bully my mommy!” Seeing Max drenched in cold sweat, but still refusing to let go. I felt both proud and heartbroken. I was about to snatch the child back when Derek yanked my hair and violently flung me away. “Eleanor! You turned my son into a bastard who doesn’t recognize his own parents!”

“Don’t hit my mommy!” Seeing me thrown to the ground, my forehead bleeding. Max screamed hysterically, ready to bite again. But Derek saw right through him. He squeezed Max’s jaw, then looked towards Tiffany in the corner, applying constant pressure to Max’s face. “Bastard! Your real mother is right there!” “She’s not my mommy! You’re bad people!” Max stiffened his neck, his mouth bloody and bruised, tearing and biting at him. Derek completely lost his patience. He roughly threw Max to the ground, placed his foot on the child’s chest, and smirked. “This kid has been completely ruined by Eleanor! He doesn’t even recognize his own parents!” “Alright, fine! This is a perfect opportunity! Today, I’ll teach you how to apologize to your parents!” With that, he pressed down harder with his foot, grinding it into the child’s chest. Max’s muffled whimpers of pain echoed through the room. “Let him go! You monster! You don’t deserve to touch my son!” I shrieked, my voice raw, clawing towards Max, tears of blood in my cries. “He’s having an asthma attack! Can’t you see he can’t breathe?! If anything happens to him, Derek, you’re dead!” Derek scoffed as if he’d heard a joke, then twisted his head to glance at me, then at Tiffany, who was disheveled and covered in blood. A cruel glint appeared in his eyes. “Asthma? Can’t breathe?” “He doesn’t even recognize me anymore, why should I care if he lives or dies? Even if I accidentally kill him today, it’s all your fault for ruining him!” With that, he yanked Max’s hair, forcing him to kneel. The poor child couldn’t even stay kneeling. He couldn’t even scream for help. I charged at Derek like a madwoman, wanting to tear him apart. He kicked me to the ground, then grabbed me and forced me to kneel before Tiffany. “The child was ruined, ultimately it’s your fault! Get down on your knees and apologize to Tiffany!” I was held down tightly, my head slamming against the floor. Blood ran down my face, mixing with tears from my eyes. I stubbornly remained silent, glaring at him with cold fury. He pulled a dagger from a fruit bowl, brandishing it before my eyes, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. “Just apologize, and I’ll consider forgiving you, otherwise…” Before he could finish, I spat a mouthful of blood at him. Derek was completely enraged. He wiped his face, then roughly yanked my hair and contemptuously patted my cheek. “Don’t blame me for being cruel. I gave you a chance, but you refused it!” Then, he looked down, kicked Max’s side, and sneered coldly. “Watch closely, this is the first lesson your father is teaching you! If you’re stupid, if you make a mistake, you pay the price!” Max was jolted awake by the pain. His eyes snapped open to see a knife plunging towards my heart, and his pupils immediately constricted. “Mommy!” I don’t know where he found the strength, but he struggled free from Derek’s foot, leaping to shield me. “No!” I wrapped my arms around Max, my tears mixing with the blood on my face. My heart was clenching. Max’s lips trembled as he lifted a shaky hand toward me, his voice breaking. “Mommy, don’t cry.” Derek’s eyes were bloodshot. He raised the knife again, aiming straight for my heart. “You let my son die for you?!” Just as the blade was about to plunge down, a gunshot cracked from behind. “Who’s making such a racket in here?!”

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On my wedding day, my fiancé Mason stood me up for the 99th time. He was off with Chloe, his newly hired assistant. I went looking for Mason, only to overhear an unexpected conversation between him and Chloe. “Mason, aren’t you supposed to be marrying Evelyn today?” Chloe asked. Mason scoffed, a sneer twisting his lips. “Evelyn? What’s she good for besides her looks? I got her that job, I rented her apartment. Without me, she’d be totally lost.” “I was just stringing her along. No way I’d actually marry her.” I turned and walked away, dropping my engagement ring into a nearby trash can. Then I posted an Instagram story: “Feeling down. Need someone to cheer me up. Don’t keep me waiting.” For a minute, everyone thought I was just being dramatic, throwing a fit. But no one knew that after being dumped 99 times, I could finally reclaim my rightful place as a daughter of the wealthy Davies family. Mason called while I was relaxing in a luxury spa suite. “What’s up?” I asked lazily, stretching out on the massage table. “What was that Instagram story you posted this afternoon supposed to mean?” Mason’s voice on the phone was as cold and condescending as always—the tone he always used with me. I used to think that was just his personality—stern, serious, cold as ice. So I’d act like a humble servant, choosing my words carefully, always trying to manage his mood. But then Chloe joined the company as his assistant. Every time she handed him documents, his eyes would soften with warmth, lighting up with a smile. That’s when I realized Mason wasn’t incapable of smiling; he just never smiled at me. Just then, my therapist’s polite voice broke through my thoughts. “Hello, ma’am.” I smiled and greeted her. “You can start. Go a bit harder—my neck and shoulders have been really tight lately.” Mason heard the unfamiliar sounds on my end and paused, his tone sharp with irritation. “Evelyn, you never used to go to places like that.” My life used to revolve around three things: my apartment, the company, and Mason. I didn’t just handle all the chores—I practically ran his whole life. Mason said he loved my cooking, so I’d spend every evening after work making him all kinds of dishes. Mason said he liked the pastries from the south side of town, so I’d wake up at five a.m. and drive three hours just so he could have them before work. When Mason came home from client dinners, I’d happily bring him a steaming bowl of soup, telling him it was good for his stomach. But he’d look at me with disgust. “Can you stop always being in the kitchen? My friends will make fun of me if they find out!” “And can you please get a life of your own? Stop clinging to me all the time—it’s annoying!” A faint smile tugged at my lips as I remembered those words. “I’m just tired from work, so I came to relax a bit. What’s the problem with that?” Mason seemed taken aback by my attitude. He paused for a second before scoffing. “Tired from what? You spend all day doing nothing at work.” He seemed to forget that when the company was just starting out, I was the one working nonstop at client dinners, landing deal after deal. There were even a few times I collapsed at the table and ended up in the hospital. Lying in that hospital bed, Mason held my hand and said, “I appreciate all your hard work.” “Once the company takes off, I’ll give you an easy role. You can relax and do whatever you want!” And now, just one day after I hadn’t shown up for work, he couldn’t handle it. Mason’s voice turned sharp with criticism. “Evelyn, you’re completely out of line! Unexcused absences are bad enough, but getting a spa treatment on company time? Why can’t you learn a thing or two from Chloe?” “She’s a new employee, but she’s eager and motivated. She just closed a major deal that brought in five million for the company!” I scoffed. “Are you sure *she’s* the one who closed that deal?” The deal Mason was talking about was one I’d worked tirelessly on, developing the proposal and pulling three all-nighters in a row to satisfy the investors. But right before the contract was signed, Mason suddenly came to me. “Evelyn, Chloe is new to the company and needs to establish herself. Can you involve her in this project and show her the ropes?” I agreed. But then Mason turned around and gave Chloe all the credit for the success. Furious, I confronted him, demanding an explanation. Mason, however, acted self-righteous. “Chloe is new and needs this deal to prove herself. You’re a senior employee—you should know how to be a team player.” I was speechless. It was painfully obvious who he truly cared about and who he didn’t. Thinking this, I laughed bitterly. “Since you think Chloe is doing such a great job, then from now on, just give all the work to her.” “Evelyn, what are you talking about?” Even through the phone, I could picture Mason’s icy, furious expression. But now, I didn’t care anymore. “It means I quit.” I said it calmly, then hung up the phone. I was tired—I was done being his doormat. After a moment’s hesitation, I dialed a number I hadn’t called in three years. The call went through right away. “I thought you’d never call me again.” Hearing that familiar voice, my eyes teared up. “Dad.” Three years ago, to be with Mason, I turned down my family’s arranged marriage, nearly cutting ties with my father over it. My father had warned me back then that Mason was selfish, cold, and untrustworthy. But I stubbornly insisted Mason was my true love. I even made a deal with my father: “If Mason lets me down 99 times, I’ll agree to the family’s arrangement.” Back then, I was so confident, certain I would win. How could anyone possibly let me down 99 times? Looking back now, I was such a fool. “Dad, I agree to the arranged marriage.”

“You’ve finally come to your senses?” My father sounded surprised. I sighed. “I used to think that if I just gave enough time and genuine effort, even the coldest heart would melt. Now I see how naive I was.” My father sounded frustrated. “I told you long ago that Mason wasn’t a good person, but you wouldn’t listen. You stubbornly refused to see reason until it was too late. Do you really think your father would lead you astray?” I gave a self-deprecating smile but said nothing. Honestly, in life, you don’t always need advice from others. Some lessons you just have to learn the hard way. After some small talk, my father’s tone softened. “I’m relieved you’ve reached this decision. I’ll arrange for you to meet your fiancé right away.” “Also, come home and visit sometimes. Your mother misses you terribly and keeps scolding me, saying it’s all my fault for being too strict with you.” “Okay!” I nodded. After a moment’s thought, my father added, “Since that’s the case, why don’t you just quit that job too? It would be a good time for me to pull those projects.” I blinked. “What projects?” My father chuckled softly. “You silly girl, did you really think you were so capable, closing all those big deals just by going to a few dinners? If I hadn’t secretly had people backing you up, your little company would have already gone under.” I froze, then it hit me. I thought everything I’d achieved these past few years was purely my own hard work. It turned out my father was still the clever one. That night, I didn’t go home. I forgot the endless chores I used to do for him, forgot the trivial work, and forgot Mason. I felt so light, so free. I finally slept soundly, with no dreams at all. When I woke up, it was already eleven. I got dressed and slowly made my way to the company. Coincidentally, I ran into Mason by the elevators at the entrance. Mason frowned at me, his voice sharp with criticism. “Who told you to come to work so late? Your bonus for this month is gone!” I simply walked past him, indifferent. Go ahead and dock it. It’s not like it was much anyway. But Mason seemed to interpret my silence as submission, his eyes filled with contempt. “Didn’t you sound so arrogant on the phone earlier? Talking about quitting, then spending a night out God knows where. Now you have the nerve to come back to work?” “You must have blown all your money, huh?” Mason looked at me with that know-it-all expression, like I couldn’t survive without him. He held his head high, strutting around like a peacock. I knew he was waiting for me to grovel and apologize. But I just smiled faintly and handed him the resignation letter I’d prepared. “Mason, I think you’ve got it wrong. I didn’t come back to work—I came to quit.” Mason was clearly caught off guard, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Evelyn, what’s your problem?” I shrugged. “Didn’t you always say the company doesn’t keep freeloaders? Since you think I spend all day doing nothing, how could I possibly have the nerve to stay?” “Besides, don’t you think Chloe is more outstanding than me? I need to quit early and make way for her!” Chloe, ‘coincidentally’ carrying a stack of files, walked over just in time to hear this. Her eyes immediately teared up. “Evelyn, are you arguing with Mason because you’re jealous of me?” “But everything I do is for the company, to help Mason with his workload!” “Waaah, it’s all my fault for overstepping and causing this misunderstanding… Mason, maybe you should just fire me!” Her acting was so terrible, anyone could see through it. But Mason? Oh no, he was completely fooled. A look of pity immediately flashed in his eyes as he comforted her. “Don’t blame yourself, you’re doing great.” Then he turned to me, shaking his head in frustration. “Look at Chloe—so mature and sensible. And you? All you do is get jealous. You’re so childish.” I saw Chloe, hiding behind Mason, shoot me a defiant look, like she was marking her territory. In the past, I might have been driven crazy with jealousy. But now, I watched it all with detached calm, like watching two clowns perform. At that moment, Chloe pulled a contract from her stack. “Mason, you need to sign this. I’ve been working on this nonstop for three days.” “Okay,” Mason said. He gently took the contract, ready to sign without a second thought. I hesitated, then frowned. “There’s a problem with this contract. You really shouldn’t sign it.”

Out of consideration for our past relationship, I still pointed out the issue. “I’ve seen this contract before. The partner’s qualifications are highly questionable, and the risks are extremely high. If you rush to invest, you could lose everything.” As I spoke, I raised an eyebrow. “Chloe was responsible for this contract—didn’t she do a background check?” Chloe’s eyes instantly turned red. “Evelyn, if you have a problem with me, just say it to my face. Don’t go slandering me like this!” The second Mason saw Chloe was about to cry, he melted. “Oh no, don’t cry! I believe you!” Then Mason turned to me, his voice sharp with anger. “Chloe has been working on this contract nonstop for three days—I’ve seen it with my own eyes. She’s dedicated to the company; do you really think she’d lie to me?” “You, on the other hand, keep picking on Chloe, bullying a new employee just because you’ve been here longer. How can you live with yourself?” “Apologize to Chloe right now!” Chloe, dabbing at her eye, tugged on Mason’s sleeve. “Mason, don’t be angry with Evelyn. I’m sure she just spoke without thinking. Please don’t be upset—it’s okay if I take the blame.” Mason immediately softened his tone, comforting her. He not only signed the contract right away but also promised, “Once this project wraps up, I’ll get you a designer bag so you’ll look professional meeting clients.” I shook my head and turned to leave. Since Mason was so infatuated with Chloe, whatever consequences came next, he’d have to face them alone. Mason looked confused that I had no intention of apologizing. In the past, I would’ve been on my knees begging for his forgiveness by now. What was wrong with me? He gritted his teeth and shouted, “Fine, leave! But once you’re gone, don’t even think about coming back!” Before stepping into the elevator, I heard Chloe whisper, “Mason, Evelyn’s just acting out. Maybe you should go after her and calm her down.” Mason’s voice was cold. “Calm her down? She’s just a pretty face. What other company would hire her after working for me?” “In a few days, she’ll come crawling back!” I forced a faint smile. Mason, the Evelyn who lived only for you will never return. The next day, Charles, the director of the family’s branch company, scheduled a meeting with me at a downtown restaurant. I came fully prepared, with unique insights in several areas. After our discussion, Charles was impressed. “With your talent, why were you content to stay at such a small company?” I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I had a lapse in judgment back then, but I’ve come to my senses now.” Charles smiled, tactfully avoiding my past, and handed me a stack of documents. “Your father is planning an investor conference for the branch company. The word’s already out. You’ll be in charge of the follow-up details.” I understood. This was my father paving the way for me. “Okay, please compile all the names and send them to me.” When Charles and I stepped out of the private room, I was surprised to see two familiar faces in the main dining area. Mason and Chloe were sitting together, laughing and chatting like a happy couple. Mason noticed me too, looking slightly awkward. Before I could say anything, he quickly explained, clearly guilty. “Don’t get the wrong idea. We’re just discussing next month’s collaboration with the Davies Group.” I smiled faintly. “You don’t need to explain anything to me. It’s work—I get it.” Chloe chimed in at just the right moment. “Mason’s been working day and night on this Davies Group collaboration; he’s practically run himself ragged. So I specially ordered this nutritious meal to help him recover.” Hearing this, Mason looked even more fond of Chloe. “Chloe, you’re so thoughtful. Unlike some people who abandon you when things get tough. It’s really disheartening.” Chloe leaned against Mason’s shoulder, right on cue. “Of course! Didn’t I say I’d be your sweetheart from now on?” As she spoke, Chloe deliberately batted her eyelashes, looking sweet and innocent. Her overly sugary voice made my skin crawl, and I felt a little nauseous. But Mason, of course, ate it up. He affectionately ruffled Chloe’s hair. “Good girl. You’re such a little cuddlebug.”

Mason still thought I’d come to beg him. His eyes dripped with contempt. “I thought you had some backbone, but you’re crawling back already.” “This time, even if you get on your knees, I won’t forgive you. You’ve disappointed me way too much.” I found it absolutely ridiculous. “You must be misunderstanding. I’m here for work.” Mason frowned. “You? For work?” “Evelyn, I know what you’re capable of. What reputable company would want you?” “You must’ve gotten scammed!” He then sized up Charles, sneering dismissively. “All dressed up, but probably some fly-by-night operation.” Charles was annoyed and wanted to defend me, but I stopped him. “Not worth getting worked up over someone like that.” “I’ll see you at the investor conference.” “Oh, and for the record—we’re done!” With that, I smiled and waved at Mason, then turned and walked away, ignoring his darkening expression. With Charles’s help, I quickly took charge of the branch company. On the investor conference guest list, Mason’s company name stood out like a sore thumb. “Should we take his company off the list?” Charles asked, still annoyed about the restaurant incident. I shook my head. “Let’s play by the rules.” I was curious to see what kind of proposal Mason and Chloe would come up with. The next day, the investor conference went off without a hitch. When I arrived, the conference hall was packed. As I scanned the crowd for Charles, Mason appeared with Chloe at his side. Chloe wore an elegant, tailored suit dress, looking like a meticulously preened show bird in a gilded cage. “Evelyn?” Mason looked at me with a confused expression. “Your sketchy company is here for the investor conference too?” I didn’t say anything, just gave a polite smile and pointed. “Investor conference attendees should check in over there first.” My calm demeanor clearly irritated Mason. “Evelyn, we’re all here for the conference. Who do you think you’re fooling?” He paused, then frowned. “Also… all your stuff is gone from the apartment?” “Since we broke up, of course I took it with me.” In reality, I’d already thrown all that stuff out. Keeping it just felt unlucky. “You’re really breaking up with me?” Mason asked, his voice full of surprise and confusion. In the past, after every fight, I’d mope for a few days, then come crawling back. But my current attitude—cold and firm—felt completely foreign to him. It was like something valuable was quietly slipping through his fingers. Uncharacteristically, Mason softened his tone. “Evelyn, stop being so stubborn. I admit I’ve been distant lately, but it was all for work.” “Once I land the Davies Group project, I’ll take you to the Maldives. We’ll stay in an oceanview villa. Come home with me, okay?” I didn’t get why Mason was suddenly trying to win me back, but it didn’t matter anymore. We could never go back. “No need. If I want to go, I can go by myself.” My icy tone enraged Mason. “Evelyn, are you really being this heartless? I’m trying to make things right—what more do you want?” “Who else would put up with you besides me?” I scoffed. Even now, he was still so condescending. “Mason, it’s a shame, but today your arrogance is going to come crashing down.” Mason scoffed dismissively. “Bow down to you? You think you’re the head of the Davies Group Investor Conference or something?” When the time came, Charles took the stage to the audience’s attention. “I announce the official opening of the Davies Group Investor Conference! Please welcome our head of operations, Ms. Evelyn Davies, to the stage!”

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Liam cheated with an employee twelve years his junior. After I found out, he chose to come back home. Until I accidentally saw an unsigned text on his phone. “I’m getting married tomorrow. Can you come to Manhattan to see me one last time?” From our city to Manhattan, it was only a three-hour drive. If he left now, he’d probably get there around one in the morning. Watching him pack his bags, I said softly, “Taking so many clothes? Planning to sleep with her again while you’re there?” “Do you need me to pack a box of condoms for you two?” Liam looked up, his face etched with a weariness I’d never seen before. “Scarlett, I’ve already chosen you. What more do you want?” “Are you really going to push me until I break?” I remember the sheer panic on his face when I caught him and Chloe checking into that hotel room. Just like those wives on TV who catch their cheating husbands, in my extreme rage and heartbreak, I tore into them, hitting and scratching, snapping humiliating photos, and posting them online. Chloe was utterly disgraced. She was fired from her job and moved out of town shortly after. Liam, because of the scandal, lost a major contract worth hundreds of thousands, and was fired from his executive position. Under immense public scrutiny and moral pressure, he formally apologized to me and returned home. After coming back, he was completely devoted to me. Even when he was restarting his business, he took on the daily care of our newborn daughter, shouldering unprecedented stress, just so I could get some sleep. In just one year, despite being busy and exhausted, his new company had taken off. As his status rose, he was absolutely thriving, both professionally and personally. It was as if there were no real consequences for him at all. Except for a few bad colds he caught early on from overwork. And this was him saying I was pushing him until he broke? How ironic. I smirked. “Liam, how can you even say that?” “Did you forget you swore you’d never go near her again?” Liam folded his clothes one by one back into the closet, then closed his suitcase. “Scarlett, it’s been a while since we visited Mr. Davison and the kids at the orphanage. Let’s go together tomorrow.” “Let’s get some rest before Lily wakes up. You know how fussy she gets.” A hint of tenderness mixed with Liam’s sickeningly calm expression. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, but I barely felt it. I hated his infuriating way of sidestepping the real issue. He was the one who screwed up, so how could he act so completely unbothered?! I scoffed, “What about Chloe then? You love her so much, aren’t you afraid she’ll be heartbroken if you don’t go to Manhattan? Or are you afraid you’ll be struck by lightning for breaking your vow?” His face remained impassive. “Scarlett, the kids love the puddings from that little dessert shop downtown. Remember to grab some tomorrow.” Liam was always like this. The colder and more detached he acted, the deeper his feelings ran. It used to be that way with me, and now it was the same with Chloe. I just wanted to tear that fake mask right off his face. I pulled open a drawer and took out a stack of letters. Fighting the nausea in my stomach, I read them aloud, word by word. “Chloe, you’re like a cloud in the sky, untouched by the world. Seeing you, I finally understood such pure goodness exists.” “They say love can be fleeting, like a cloud, but I want to keep you forever in my heart, year after year, protecting your pristine purity.” “All I ask for in this life is to be by your side, never apart.” “Chloe, the one next to me isn’t the one I truly want. Only in the deep of night, when I dream, can I see your eyes as pure as ever, so clean they make my heart tremble.” Finally, a crack appeared in Liam’s composure. He roared, losing control, “Shut up! Scarlett, I just made a mistake! Haven’t I paid enough for my mistakes this past year?” “It’s over! Why won’t you ever forgive me?!” I sneered, picking up the lacy thong that wasn’t mine and throwing it in his face. “Forgive you? Your love letters to her are just so… moving. I had to keep them. A constant reminder of the pure, beautiful Chloe you carry in your heart!”

“Besides, is that really atonement? Lily isn’t my daughter alone. You’re just taking responsibility for your child!” Liam was always romantic; he often wrote love letters when he was in love. I used to pretend to dislike them, but secretly, my heart would flutter. I thought he would only ever love me. Until one day, while cleaning out of boredom, I found this stack of papers in a box on the bottom shelf of his bookshelf. In two years, he had written her 600 love letters. The red rose lace thong Chloe had given him was her response to his affections. It was like I’d opened Pandora’s Box, and the demons inside immediately devoured my soul. That day, due to extreme emotional distress, I went into premature labor. Liam still didn’t know I’d discovered their secret. He continued to play the role of a tragic, star-crossed lover with Chloe until I finally exposed them. I had just given birth. I stuffed that thick stack of love letters into my bag and rushed to his company, ready to expose them in front of everyone. But the receptionist said Liam had taken Chloe out for some purchasing. A female colleague, seeing me looking weak and exhausted, thought I was just there to bring my husband some documents. She took pity on me and said, “This morning, I heard Mr. Liam tell Chloe he was taking her to the Butterfly Inn.” The last shred of hope shattered, and I didn’t care about anything else. When I arrived at the hotel, the staff thought I was there to cause a scene, so I had no choice but to call the police. With the police’s help, I finally found my husband in a suite, panicked but still tenderly shielding his mistress. I completely lost it and attacked them both. I cursed them with every hateful word I knew, taking photos to expose them. The whole process was surprisingly smooth and not difficult, but it completely drained all my strength. Liam rubbed his temples, annoyed. “Is this really necessary? Yes, I messed up at the hotel, but our intimacy was limited to that one time. You walked in and ruined everything, so we didn’t even finish anything, did we?” I shot back, “Don’t you dare act so righteous about cheating!” Liam smirked, his voice calm and cruel. “Scarlett, don’t you know? The more you make a scene, the more beautiful Chloe becomes in my eyes.” “You could never compare to her. Let’s see how long you can keep this up.” My breath hitched, and I stared at him, unblinking. His emotions finally wavered, but my chest tightened as if a massive stone was crushing it, suffocating me. The man who once loved me with all his heart was now utterly repulsive. I had even thought about letting it go. He had repented, changed, and returned home. We had a newborn daughter. But this past year, every time he tried to be intimate with me, I would always picture him entwined with Chloe. I was so disgusted I wanted to throw up. I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened. The accumulated resentment and fury in my heart finally erupted. I shrieked, “Then divorce me and marry her! Liam, stop pretending you’re some martyr, it makes me sick!” With that, I picked up the thong and tore it to shreds. “You pathetic excuse for a human! Both of you are!” Liam watched my fury with a satisfied smirk, then reached out to wipe away my tears. “See? You’re making yourself such a mess just to get a reaction out of me. Is it worth it?” “Scarlett, it’s over. Why can’t you just move on?”

“We have a daughter now. Don’t talk about divorce anymore.” I slapped his hand away, offering no response. Lily woke up from our commotion, crying incessantly. I walked to her crib, picked her up, and started to soothe her. Liam watched for a moment, then closed the bedroom door and left. After I’d calmed Lily down and went to the kitchen to make a bottle of formula, I was hit by the strong smell of alcohol. I looked at Liam. He was sitting on the floor, his eyes glazed with a hint of drunkenness, several empty bottles scattered around his feet. He looked completely lifeless. Was he wallowing in self-pity because his precious Chloe was getting married? His phone suddenly rang. He glanced at it, his eyes flickered, and with a trembling hand, he pressed answer. “Chloe, I’m here.” Chloe’s soft, almost childlike voice came through the phone, “Liam, she’s not letting you come see me, is she?” Liam’s eyes darkened. “Chloe, she’s my wife, and we have a daughter. I have to be responsible.” “I understand, Liam. You’re so responsible, so committed, a good man. My judgment about men is never wrong.” Chloe’s voice was barely a whisper, as if she were about to crumble. Liam gripped his phone, his voice gentle. “We shouldn’t see each other anymore. Chloe, I wish you happiness.” Just as he was about to hang up, Chloe pleaded, “Liam, can I say a few words to her?” Liam paused, then handed me the phone. “Chloe wants to say a few words to you. Try to keep your temper in check, don’t scare her.” I didn’t take it, but Chloe seemed to know I was right there. “Scarlett, since he’s returned home, I beg you to be good to him from now on. The hardships and exhaustion he faces earning money out there are no less than yours.” “He doesn’t like spicy food and prefers sweet lattes. Don’t let him eat too many cold things in the summer; his stomach isn’t good.” “Oh, and I bought him a massage device before. His neck and shoulders aren’t great, so remember to give him a massage when you have time. Also, his career is on the rise, and you just gave birth to Lily not long ago, so be careful when you’re intimate with him. Don’t get pregnant again and distract him. Remember to use protection…” I sneered, “Are you done?” “So you can’t let him go? Fine, I’ll package him up and send him straight to your bed tomorrow, how about that? You can have a new groom!” “Someone as shameless as you, you don’t care what people say, right? Let everyone see you for…!” Liam quickly snatched the phone away, yelling at me, “Shut up! What the hell are you doing?!” I looked at him, my eyes burning with hatred. “She did it, so I’ll talk about it! Liam, you two are absolutely disgusting! Flirting right in front of me!” Chloe’s soft whimpering instantly filled the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make your wife angry.” Liam’s face darkened further. “Scarlett, apologize.” All rational thought was burned away by my fury. It was like I was back in that hotel room, catching them in the act. I lunged at him, hitting and scratching. “Liam, are you even human?! You two deserve to rot in hell! Both of you!” Liam pushed me away, covering his face, uncontrollably furious. “Scarlett, are you deaf?! Didn’t you hear me say goodbye to Chloe just now?! If you keep acting like this, I swear I’ll go to Manhattan and find her!” As he said the last sentence, a clear spark of longing flashed in his eyes—a longing to see Chloe. But he still had to play the role of the long-suffering, responsible good guy. It made me look like the villain, as if I was the one who pushed him to this point. I scoffed, running back into the bedroom. I grabbed the clothes he’d just packed, threw them and the suitcase at him. “Get out!” “Liam, I can’t even stand to look at you; you make me sick.”

“Scarlett, you brought this on yourself. Let’s see how you manage to raise our daughter alone once I’m gone.” Liam gave a cold, mocking smile, grabbed his suitcase, and left. The living room finally fell silent. I collapsed to the floor, like all the strength had been sucked out of me, silently weeping into my arms. Only when Lily started crying again did I pull myself up, shaking the half-mixed formula evenly, and carry it back to her room. I held my daughter’s tiny body, staying awake all night. I was the one being pushed to my breaking point. By him. And by Chloe. In the year Liam had been back, our interactions seemed outwardly harmonious. But I was slowly losing myself. At night, I’d constantly dream of those naked bodies, entwined on the hotel bed. I started to cry for no reason, trembling uncontrollably, screaming, throwing things, even cutting my own arm with a knife. If Liam came home even a little late, I’d pick passive-aggressive fights with him. Over and over, I suspected he was seeing another woman. He’d patiently explain at first, but eventually, he just started sleeping in the guest room. Our relationship slowly froze over. It wasn’t until one day, holding Lily, I considered jumping from the eighteenth floor, that I had a stark wake-up call. I almost died. I’d become the “overly dramatic” and “crazy” new mom Liam always complained about—I had depression. I stood on the rooftop, the cold wind clearing my head. I started fighting back, seeing doctors regularly, taking my medication. But today, Liam, the root of all this, had pushed me back to the brink. This disgusting marriage was finally over. I stayed up all night until dawn. Liam still wasn’t back, but his parents arrived first. Mr. Hayes sized me up and started to lecture. “Fighting with Liam again? Scarlett, if Liam really loved Chloe, you wouldn’t be our daughter-in-law, would you?” “You have no foresight. If you’d just kept quiet back then, Liam wouldn’t have been fired, and we’d all be living comfortably off his bonuses, instead of him working himself to death.” Mrs. Hayes picked up her phone, feigning sympathy. “Scarlett, Liam is so exceptional, it’s natural for a man like him to have… companions outside the home. You need to have a son to truly secure him, otherwise, you’ll be crying for the rest of your life!” With that, she held her phone in front of me. It displayed Liam’s Instagram post from last night, after he’d left. In the photo, he was tightly embracing Chloe, wiping her tears, his face full of tenderness. [Traveled a thousand miles, just to see you.] I opened my phone, but Liam’s post wasn’t there. That’s when I realized he’d blocked me. I called him several times, but he declined every single one. Hanging up the last call, I quietly asked, “Are you sure he went to see Chloe?” Mrs. Hayes, her face practically glowing with triumph, called Liam right in front of me on her own phone. He picked up instantly. “Mom, what is it?” Mrs. Hayes said sweetly, “Liam, where are you? Are you fighting with Scarlett again?” Liam’s flat tone carried a clear hint of disdain. “It’s not really a fight, she’s just having one of her episodes. Probably bored stuck at home.” “I’m in Manhattan, Mom. Don’t tell Scarlett. I just needed to see Chloe one last time. I’ll be back soon.” The call ended in just one minute. So, he really had rushed there overnight. My chest felt hollowed out, yet strangely relieved at the same time. Seeing my lack of reaction, Mrs. Hayes smiled. “Hear that? Liam always complains that you’re so dull and stupid, always fighting with him. If it weren’t for Lily, he would have left you ages ago!” “I actually think Chloe is quite good. I heard her parents are well-respected teachers; she’s more than good enough for our Liam. Unlike some people who have no family, no roots, like an orphan!” “If parents have bad character, their children will also turn out bad. Since someone likes this kind of trash, they can have him!” I retorted calmly, then walked away with Lily without a backward glance, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Hayes to curse me out. I knew they didn’t like me, so I’d always tolerated them after Liam and I got married. But not anymore. Since Liam wasn’t in town, I’d go find him myself. I went to a lawyer’s office, got a copy of divorce papers, and took a cab to Manhattan. Following the photo Liam’s mom had shown me, I went straight to the hotel where they were meeting. In the lobby, Chloe was in a wedding dress, about to exchange rings with Daniel, her groom. Liam watched, looking utterly heartbroken, as if his soul had been ripped right out of him. He said, his voice full of aching, suppressed emotion, “Chloe, you have to be happy.” Chloe’s eyes welled up. One on the stage, one below it, they looked like star-crossed lovers tragically torn apart. I walked into the lobby from outside, stopping in front of Liam, and called out loudly, “Since you and Chloe love each other so much, I’ll grant you your wish!” “Liam, we’re getting a divorce!”

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When my boyfriend Ryan returned from his business trip with his first love Chloe, he immediately noticed something different about me. He pulled strings to help Chloe steal my project, but instead of storming off like I would’ve before, I threw myself into assisting her—even drafting proposals with enthusiasm. He sabotaged my hard-earned designs to secure Chloe the year-end bonus, yet I didn’t bother defending myself. I took full responsibility and let him mete out whatever punishment he saw fit. He even fast-tracked Chloe’s promotion to General Manager, and still I didn’t get upset. I voluntarily signed over all my shares, letting Ryan do with them as he pleased. Ryan smiled and called me “a good girl,” promising a promotion and—for the first time ever—proposing marriage. But he seemed to have forgotten that during our silent standoff, he’d already signed my resignation papers. And I’d already ended our relationship. From that moment on, we were thoroughly finished—no loose ends, no lingering connections.

“This project proposal is urgent. Have it on my desk by EOD.” Ryan’s voice was icy as he dumped a thick stack of files on my desk, turning to leave without another word. As soon as he rounded the corner, my coworkers swarmed around me, buzzing with commentary. “Aren’t these Chloe’s assignments?” “Her projects are always the worst—impossible deadlines, zero resources. You won’t finish by tonight, not even close.” “Ryan’s so obvious about playing favorites. She doesn’t even do her own work anymore; he just palms it off on everyone else.” They circled me, their voices carefully calibrated to carry. I knew better than to mistake this for solidarity—they were just here for the show. The whole office knew Ryan, our GM, was my boyfriend—but that didn’t stop him from blatantly playing favorites with my rival, Chloe. He’d not only fast-tracked her promotion to Project Director, but also handed her a million-dollar account I’d spent two months securing and developing, one that was days from completion. When I objected, Ryan called for a team vote on who should lead the project. My coworkers promised support to my face, then unanimously voted for Chloe. Later they claimed Ryan had pressured them, urging me to “cut the new girl some slack.” This wasn’t the first time. My colleagues kept up their pretend defense, but instead of marching to Ryan’s office like I used to, I simply took the files and got to work. My calmness clearly surprised them—their eyes widened, but they clammed up fast when Ryan appeared. Suddenly everyone had urgent work at their desks. Ryan was in an uncharacteristically good mood. He ignored the awkward silence and just told me to have the proposal on his desk by end of day. I nodded, and he left without a second glance. His hair was styled to perfection, suit crisply pressed—no prizes for guessing he was meeting Chloe. This had been our dynamic for years. It started when I found their late-night Snapchats. I asked a simple question, and Ryan—furious at my “insecurity”—hired Chloe on the spot as some kind of twisted payback. To punish me for questioning him, he showered her with opportunities, brought her to every corporate event, and even praised her publicly at company dinners. If I got upset, he’d stonewall me. If I apologized, he’d summon coworkers to lecture me about being “too demanding.” Everyone agreed I was the unreasonable one. I used to lie awake wondering if I was really that small-minded. But then I found out Chloe was his college sweetheart. Suddenly it clicked—all that “learning to compromise” talk was just cover for him to rekindle his old flame. Even without that first fight, he would’ve found another way to bring her into our lives. After their last business trip together, something shifted. They still did the same things—dinners, wine tastings, art shows—but there was a new tension between them. But for once, I didn’t care. Five years together, and I was finally done. This charade had gone on long enough. By the time I finished the proposal, I was the only one left in the office. Scrolling through Instagram, I found Chloe had posted again. The photo showed an upscale French bistro, candlelight casting a romantic glow over their table. Ryan was cutting Chloe’s steak for her, looking absurdly chivalrous. Caption: “When your CEO personally cuts your steak… tastes extra delicious.” The comments were full of coworkers gushing about what a “cute couple” they made. Chloe replied to one, bragging that Ryan—who never drinks—shared half a bottle of wine with her to celebrate “her” project win. The comment section blew up with wedding rumors. Ryan didn’t shut it down—just commented “My pleasure.” When someone asked when the wedding would be, he left ellipsis and Chloe responded with a blushing emoji. I didn’t spiral like I used to—no angry texts, no confrontations, no tears. I just texted Ryan the proposal was done, dropped the file on his desk, and drove home. When I got home, my phone pinged with his reply. “Alice, it’s Chloe! Thanks for crunching on the proposal—let me take you to dinner sometime as a thank you!” Ryan had always been obsessive about his phone privacy—got mad if I even borrowed it to check the time. Now he was letting Chloe reply to his messages? I couldn’t help a bitter laugh. Different priorities, different treatment. Plain and simple. But for once, my chest didn’t tighten. What used to feel like the end of the world now just felt… trivial. Feelings fade, but hard work? That always pays off. I pulled up my calendar. While Ryan and Chloe were gallivanting on their “business trip,” I’d submitted my resignation. As expected, he didn’t even read it before signing—too busy with her. Three more days of handover, and I’d be free. After a moment’s thought, I dialed Professor Miller, my old mentor from the research institute. Post-grad, I’d landed a dream role there with a killer salary. But when Ryan said he needed help launching his startup, I quit without hesitation. My mentor begged me to reconsider, but I was dead set on helping him build from the ground up. Now? I couldn’t believe how naive I’d been. He answered on the second ring. I braced for an earful, but instead he sighed, “I heard what happened. Been waiting for your call.” “You sure about this, kiddo?” “Absolutely. My resignation’s already finalized.” “Resignation? What resignation?” A shocked voice cut through the room. I turned to find Ryan standing in the doorway.

I glanced at my phone—Professor Miller had hung up. I locked the screen calmly. “Just a friend. They’re thinking about quitting their job.” Ryan frowned, eyes narrowing. “What friend discusses that at this hour?” Before I could answer, his phone chimed. Chloe had texted—she’d found a stray cat and bought it food. A smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it. Noticing me watching, he schooled his expression. “Tell your friend to stop being so negative. Focus on work instead.” His tone was frosty—nothing like the warmth he used with Chloe. I didn’t argue or remind him the project was technically Chloe’s now. Ryan brushed past me, grinning as he typed replies on his way to the bedroom. Minutes later, his laughter boomed from the bedroom. He’d forgotten all about the years I’d worked beside him, sacrificing my social life to build his company. But I didn’t care—it saved me the energy of fighting. I retreated to my makeshift study—the converted storage room—and pulled out my research materials. The institute’s research focus had shifted in five years. Even with my mentor’s support, I needed to get up to speed fast. Luckily, the fundamentals stuck—I’d catch up quickly. “Reading academic journals now?” Ryan appeared in the doorway as I focused on my research. He snatched the journal from my hands, flipped through it dismissively, and tossed it back on the desk. “Why bother with this stuff? You don’t actually get any of it, do you?” “Just curious.” I stacked the papers neatly, keeping my voice neutral. “Did you need something?” My calmness seemed to throw him off. He hesitated, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “Yeah, actually. Chloe just wrapped that big project, so I’m promoting her to set an example. What do you think?” He phrased it as a question, but his eyes made it clear it was a done deal. I nodded. “Fine by me.” “But I need to show consequences too, or the team won’t respect me. You haven’t led a project in a while, so I’m moving you to an entry-level role temporarily. Don’t worry, you’ll bounce back. As my girlfriend, you get why this is necessary, right?” I bit back a laugh. He still hadn’t noticed my resignation. He tracked Chloe’s every mood swing and coffee order, but couldn’t remember signing my resignation papers—papers he’d personally approved. Priorities made crystal clear. My silence must have looked like resistance because his tone turned sharp. “Agree or not, it’s happening. I already finalized the paperwork—Chloe’s moving into your office Monday. Either take the demotion or walk, but with the IPO coming, you’d be an idiot to quit now.” He spoke with absolute certainty that I’d stay. This routine was familiar—Chloe would whisper something, I’d get demoted, and I’d grit my teeth through it. He figured with the IPO looming, I’d never walk away now. I managed a tight smile. “I didn’t say I was against it.” “Good.” Ryan visibly relaxed. In his world, silence always meant consent. He started to leave, then paused like he’d just remembered an afterthought. “Hey, where’d our photo go? The one that used to be on your desk?” I almost laughed. Once, our pictures were everywhere—in frames on every surface, even my wallet. I’d needed the constant reminder that despite everything, he supposedly loved me. Now, after learning about his history with Chloe? Those photos just looked like evidence of my own delusion. I kept it simple. “The frame broke, so I took it down.” “Typical. You’re always breaking things.” Ryan grimaced, scanning the floor. “Clean up any glass properly—don’t want anyone stepping on it.” He left without another word. Watching him go, I laughed bitterly. Of course he wasn’t worried about me—he meant Chloe. This was our apartment, but he’d brought her here so many times I’d lost count. First he snuck her in, then when I caught them, he called it a “work emergency” and called me irrational. After that, he paraded her through like he was punishing me. For months I spiraled, obsessing over what I was doing wrong. Now I realize—if I’d spent that energy on my career instead of his ego? I could’ve had a PhD by now. The next morning, Ryan made the announcement: Chloe’s promotion and my demotion, all in one breath. Colleagues shot me sympathetic glances as they congratulated Chloe, clearly expecting a scene. But I just kept working like nothing was happening. While Ryan took Chloe out for celebratory dinners, I was filling out visa applications. While they hit up amusement parks, I was packing my life into one suitcase. While they played couple at industry events, I was wrapping up my handover documents… Two days later, my last day, I headed to HR to finalize exit paperwork. “Ryan wants to see you before you go—head up to the GM’s office,” the HR rep mumbled, barely looking up. I almost said no. But tonight was my flight. If he stayed out with Chloe again, this might be our last chance to talk. Five years deserved some kind of closure, right? I took the elevator up. Through the glass wall, I could see them on the couch—Chloe with her head in Ryan’s lap, looking way too comfortable.

I froze. I was about to backtrack when Chloe spotted me. She yelped and scrambled upright. “Alice! What are you doing here?” Ryan’s face tightened. He straightened his jacket like he’d been caught doing something wrong, then snapped, “Who let you up here? I told you not to come to the executive floor unannounced!” Funny—I remembered when that rule was first made: “Nobody comes upstairs without permission… except Alice.” I used to think it was my special privilege. Now? It was just his way of keeping me out while he played house with Chloe. But I didn’t care anymore. Too exhausted for drama, I just stated the facts. “HR said you asked for me.” Ryan snorted coldly and strode up to the desk, pressing the intercom. Within less than two minutes, the HR manager hurried upstairs. “Did you tell Alice I wanted to see her?” Ryan’s voice was icy. The manager sized up the room—Ryan’s scowl, Chloe’s innocent act—and visibly panicked. “I… I don’t recall, sir.” “Typical.” Ryan’s smirk was triumphant as he turned on me. “Real mature, Alice. Sneaking up here like some stalker. If you’re that desperate for attention, I can install cameras in my office for you.” There was no winning this argument. “Ryan, don’t be so harsh.” Chloe laid a hand on his arm, batting her lashes at me. “Alice was just worried about you. I had a migraine earlier, and Ryan was letting me rest my head. We’re both just focused on the company.” I saw right through her fake concern. HR would never contradict the boss’s new favorite—not when Chloe was calling the shots now. Even if she did, Ryan wouldn’t believe her. I stayed quiet, but Ryan was just getting started. “Save it. Personal relationships stay out of the office! Alice violated protocol—cut her pay by half and revoke this month’s bonus.” The HR manager tried to interject. “Mr. Ryan, Alice already—” Ryan cut her off with a glare. “Save the excuses. Just do it.” The manager scurried out, clearly relieved to escape. I turned to leave too, but Ryan stopped me. His tone softened, taking on that patronizing tone he used when he thought he was being reasonable. “Look, I’m not picking on you. Rules are rules. If I let this slide, everyone will think they can break protocol.” Chloe chimed in, sweet as poison. “Exactly, Alice. Next time you’re unsure about something, just ask Ryan… or me.” Ryan nodded approvingly. “Chloe gets it—she’s all about the company. You should take notes. Instead of overanalyzing everything, why can’t you be more like her?” Like her? Like how she steals credit and plays the victim? I bit back the retort. My silence must have looked like submission. Ryan stepped closer, adjusting my collar like I was a child. “I get it, you’re upset. But you’ve been better lately. Be good, and we’ll go pick out wedding venues next week. Not that marriage changes anything—” “I know why you’re making such a fuss. But you’ve been much more cooperative since you came back. As a reward, we’ll go take wedding photos tomorrow and settle the marriage. But don’t get ahead of yourself; marriage is just…” “Wedding?” I laughed, stepping back from his touch. I pulled the resignation letter from my bag and held it out. “We broke up, remember?” “And I quit. Effective immediately.” “From now on, we’re strangers.”

Chloe’s eyes flickered with triumph before she schooled her features into concern. “Alice, that’s so unnecessary. You two have been through so much…” “Chloe, leave us.” Ryan’s voice was dangerously low. Chloe bit her lip, shooting me a smug glance before murmuring, “Just talk it out, you two,” and slipping out. The door clicked shut. Ryan’s stare turned icy. “Cut the crap, Alice. I just offered to marry you, and you’re still pulling this nonsense?” “Take it back. I’m not accepting this resignation. Tear it up, and we’ll pretend you didn’t have this little meltdown.” I almost felt sorry for him—so used to getting his way that he couldn’t fathom me walking away. All those years I’d swallowed my pride to keep the peace, thinking patience would fix us. Turns out I’d just trained him to expect my surrender. He remembered Chloe’s coffee order but couldn’t recall signing my resignation papers last week. I tapped the paper. “Check the signature. You signed it yourself. HR processed everything—today’s my last day.” Ryan glanced at it dismissively, then did a double-take. His face paled slightly. “You faked this.” His voice cracked. “Your handwriting, your desk, your pen. Ring any bells?” “That’s impossible!” He slammed his fist on the desk. “You could go to jail for this!” “Impossible! How could I sign this?!” He raised his voice. “Forging a signature is illegal; I can call the police!” He grabbed his phone, ready to dial—his usual power move. It always worked before. He thought I’d panic about the scandal, about losing him. But he was wrong. I had nothing left to lose. “Be my guest. Call the cops.” My voice stayed steady. “You really don’t care?” “Why would I?” Ryan’s jaw tightened. He studied the paper, and I helpfully added, “You signed it during your trip to Singapore. Remember? The day Chloe ‘accidentally’ spilled wine on your laptop?” His shoulders went rigid. Recognition dawned, draining the color from his face. “That? I was distracted! I didn’t read it! It doesn’t count!” “Says who? HR has it on file. Your signature’s right there.” “Says me!” He loomed over me, trying to intimidate. I pulled out my phone and unlocked it. “Then we’ll let the police decide.”

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At the company dinner, Tyler the intern took a bite of his eel and tossed it directly into my fiancée’s plate. She picked it up without hesitation and ate it. That night, I tore up our wedding agreement and threw it in the trash. She took off her glasses, exhausted: “Over a piece of eel?” “He took a bite before giving it to you.” Claire let out a cold laugh: “Adrian, I had no idea you were this petty.” “Fine. No wedding then. Just don’t you dare regret it.” She was convinced I loved her too much to ever let go. But I just smiled: “Perfect. Saves me from ruining my future.” 0 That same day, I told my parents I wanted to change my marriage arrangement. Though surprised, they didn’t press me with questions. They respected my decision. As expected, Claire launched into a cold war soon after. Blocked number, deleted contact, cut off all communication. Her methods were smooth as a rehearsed routine. She remained confident that I’d come crawling back like I always did. But this time, I stared at that familiar friend request notification on my screen and never hit confirm. A week later, a message popped up in the company group chat: “Miss Sullivan’s birthday celebration tonight. Everyone must attend.” Not wanting to cause a scene, I went anyway. I pushed open the private room door and immediately spotted Claire at the head seat, with Tyler practically pressed against her ear, whispering something. They were deep in conversation, like they existed in their own little bubble that no one else could penetrate. As they laughed, they leaned closer and closer, almost like they were about to kiss. I looked away and took a seat in the corner, drinking alone. Colleagues took turns presenting their gifts. I didn’t move. Until a shadow fell across my table. I looked up to find Claire’s bright face tinged with displeasure. “Adrian, where’s my gift?” In the past, I would’ve started preparing months in advance for a day like this. I once spent weeks building her a replica of that walking mechanical castle from Clockwork Heart. When the gears started turning and steam poured from the copper pipes, she gently took my hand and said: “We’ll be just like Erin and Kyle. No matter where this castle goes, we’ll always find each other.” Back then, I believed her. I never imagined her “forever” wouldn’t even last three years. “Forgot.” My response was flat. Claire’s expression darkened: “How long are you going to keep this up? Over something so trivial?” My gaze drifted to her smudged lipstick, courtesy of Tyler, and I felt my stomach turn: “I’m not keeping anything up. Canceling the wedding is serious.” Her expression stiffened briefly, but she regained her composure when Tyler took her hand. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” Tyler explained softly. “I just didn’t want to waste food. If it bothers you that much, next time I’ll just wait until everyone’s done eating.” His words instantly triggered Claire’s protective instincts: “Tyler, you deserve the best! Adrian should be the one leaving. Who does he think he is?” Tyler walked over and patted my shoulder: “Come on, man. Be the bigger person. Claire hasn’t been sleeping well these past few days. I know you two aren’t compatible, but you’re still engaged…” I knocked his hand away with a cold laugh: “Tyler, you know what I admire most about you?” “You play both sides and still manage to steal someone’s fiancée without batting an eye.” The second Tyler’s smile froze, Claire exploded: “Adrian, how dare you slander Tyler!” “Slander? Then explain why he has an identical copy of everything you’ve ever given me?” “Why does he somehow know about every fight we have before anyone else? And why does he know you have a small mole on your chest—” “Enough!” A sharp slap echoed through the room. My left ear rang. My vision blurred. All I could see were my colleagues’ pitying and mocking stares, silently bearing down on me. The ringing gradually faded. In its place came Claire’s clear, triumphant declaration: “Starting today, everyone’s welcome to like the photos of me and Tyler together. Once we hit a thousand likes, I’ll call off the engagement and marry Tyler instead.” Before I could respond, she grabbed Tyler’s hand and walked out without looking back. As they passed me, Tyler shot me an unmistakable look of victory. After they left, gleeful whispers floated through the room: “Acting all high and mighty. Now it’s too late for regrets.” A colleague I knew well came over and spoke quietly: “Adrian, just go apologize. You can’t seriously let Miss Sullivan make a rash decision like this…” I knew this was just another one of her tactics to make me submit. But this time, I refused to give in. 0

The once-bustling private room emptied quickly, leaving only me behind. I grabbed the remaining liquor on the table and downed it in one gulp. The burning liquid scorched my throat and stomach, making my eyes sting. Nearly twenty years of history between us. Turns out, severing it wasn’t so hard after all. Fine. I’d accept my family’s arrangement, fly thousands of miles to Manhattan, get married, and advance the new partnership. The distance would be far enough. She wouldn’t be able to bother me anymore. Strange though—my face felt cold and wet again. Back home, I started packing. Claire and I grew up together. Most of my life had been tangled up with hers. There were too many things left behind. Every single one pulled at a memory. This faded paper flower was the first little prize she ever won in kindergarten. She ran up to me on her tiny legs and carefully placed it in my palm: “Adrian, the best things are for you!” This yellowed photo captured her flushed face the first time she got her period. She hadn’t paid attention in health class and thought she was dying. She ran to me to discuss her “final wishes,” telling me to find a girlfriend less pretty than her after she was gone. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Once I figured out what was happening, I rushed to the convenience store to buy pads. We sat there together, reading the instructions, trying to figure out how to use them. I teased her for not paying attention in class. She bit my arm in frustration. Strangely, it didn’t hurt at all. Instead, my heart filled with a secret sweetness. Later, we officially got together. Different universities meant four years of long distance. I’d saved a thick stack of plane tickets over those years, documenting over 120,000 miles of devotion. Back then, her heart and eyes were full of me. She crossed mountains and seas without ever complaining. My fingers brushed against a small hard box. Inside lay a pair of simple matching rings we’d made together. For her, I didn’t hesitate to return to this city after graduation. The day I came back, she dragged me to a jeweler to make these rings. She solemnly slid the ring onto my finger and said with a smile: “Adrian, once you put this on, you’re mine for life. Don’t ever think about running away.” Back then, we both believed that the sincerity in our vows would last forever. Neither of us imagined she’d be the first one to let go. The day Tyler came in for his interview, he performed terribly. Claire made no effort to hide her disdain. I didn’t take the underqualified candidate seriously either. But somehow, he ended up getting hired anyway, joining the company as an intern. I started getting suspicious when I noticed the ring that was supposed to be ours alone appeared on Tyler’s finger. At first, when I confronted her, Claire would patiently explain and sweet-talk me. Gradually, though, her responses turned impatient. My repeated compromises, reluctance to let go, and attempts to please her only made her favoritism toward Tyler grow bolder. Company dinners were planned around Tyler’s preferences alone. He only showed up half a day each week, spending the rest of his time touring around with Claire. Meanwhile, all his menial intern tasks were dumped on me by Claire herself. She mentioned him more and more often in front of me. What started as unconscious admiration turned into direct comparisons, criticizing me for being unromantic and not sweet enough. Then came that company coffee break. Claire praised the latte she ordered, and Tyler leaned over saying he wanted to try it. She casually handed him her cup without even changing the straw. Tyler drank from it, his lips touching her lipstick mark. What made my chest tighten even more was how naturally she took it back and continued drinking from the same straw. How was that any different from kissing? In that moment, my heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand, leaving me breathless with bitterness. 0

From then on, Tyler’s boundary-crossing behavior spiraled out of control. He’d help her with skincare, personally applying lotion to her skin. When she twisted her ankle, he ignored me standing right there and carried her to the nurse’s office on his back. She even canceled birthday plans she’d made with me because Tyler caught a little cold. Whenever I expressed dissatisfaction, Claire would snap impatiently: “Adrian, you see dirt in everything! He’s just an intern. What could possibly happen between us? Stop projecting your filthy thoughts onto other people!” But later, even she sounded less and less convinced when she said it. What hurt most was an important industry gala. The host explicitly required attendees to bring their partners. She hid it from me and brought Tyler instead. I only found out afterward when multiple people asked if we’d broken up. When I confronted her, she was angrier than I was: “I only brought him so he could learn! Don’t interns need experience? Can you stop being so petty?” That time, our cold war lasted so long I almost thought we’d reached the end. Until she sent me a late-night text: “Babe, my stomach hurts so bad…” All my pretend indifference crumbled instantly. And so the terrible cycle repeated: I’d question. She’d get angry. I’d try to please her. She’d forgive me. I closed the ring box and tossed it in the trash. At the very back of the drawer was a letter she wrote me at eighteen, apologizing for missing one of my messages. Back then, she truly cared about me. Now, her heart and mind were full of nothing but that intern. I pulled out that yellowed apology letter, tore it into tiny pieces, and scattered them into the trash. Decades of attachment, completely erased. The house felt emptier in an instant, and my heart felt just as hollow. In the company group chat, photos kept flooding in of Tyler celebrating Claire’s birthday and making her laugh. Colleagues who understood Claire’s preferences scrambled to flatter them: “Miss Sullivan and Tyler are SO sweet together!” “If you’re looking for a boyfriend, find someone warm like Tyler, not someone who’s cold all the time like Adrian.” “An intern like Tyler can take such good care of Miss Sullivan—now THAT’S devotion…” I didn’t bother reading anymore. I called my lawyer: “Withdraw all my investments from Sullivan & Co.” Claire, I don’t love you anymore. I hope you won’t regret this.

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My wife mentioned she’d need to work late tonight. I thought I’d surprise her by dropping off her favorite macarons at the office. But as I approached the door, I overheard her laughing with her male assistant: “Babe, I really wanna go to Hawaii with you.” “Worried your husband’ll find out? Simple. Just tell him you’ve got cancer and need overseas treatment. We’ll have our fun and come back whenever we feel like it.” I played it cool and left without a word. At daybreak, my wife came home. The second she saw me, tears started rolling down her cheeks: “Honey, the company did health screenings today. They found me get breast cancer. Stage four.” “I don’t want to be a burden. Let’s get a divorce.” I stared at Claire, frozen in place for what felt like an eternity. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. My wife was actually cheating on me with her male assistant. From our wedding day onwards, Claire had always seemed perfect—beautiful and upstanding. Maybe she had her reasons? What if her assistant was blackmailing her? What if she had no choice but to go along with it? I must be overcomplicating things. I took a deep breath and pulled her close. “Honey, we’re married. We made vows—for better or worse, in sickness and in health. We promised to stick together no matter what.” “I don’t care what illness you have. I’m not leaving you, no matter what happens!” Claire suddenly pushed me away. “Jason, can you just face reality here?” “I have cancer! Stage four!” “I don’t have much time left.” “Just think of this as granting my last wish before I die.” “Please?” Tears streamed down her face. Seeing her cry like that tore me apart. Under these circumstances, I couldn’t bring myself to argue. Instead, I pulled her back into my arms, my voice tight with emotion. “Honey, what do you need me to do?” “Whatever you need, I’ll do it without hesitation.” Claire stopped sobbing. She looked up, her hands cupping my face, eyes red and puffy. “I wasn’t actually working late tonight,” she said softly. “Then why’d you come home so late?” “My assistant was consoling me. He mentioned there’s a new laser therapy overseas that can eliminate 99.99% of cancer cells.” “I wasn’t sure if it was legitimate, so I met with him in person to get more details.” Hearing the word “assistant” made my suspicions deepen. My wife’s new male assistant was young and good-looking. She was always comparing me to him, teasing me about being an old man. I never called her out on it or questioned her. Instead, I played along. “And what did you find out?” “He said it’s real, but expensive. I want to use the money from our joint account for treatment. Even if there’s the smallest chance, I don’t want to give up.” “Honey, you’ll support me, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course I’ll support you!” I nodded and gently kissed her forehead. “I can drop everything and go overseas with you for treatment.” “If it’s about money, I’d even sell a kidney!” Claire immediately pulled back. “You don’t know anything about that country. Besides, my assistant will go with me. You should stay here and take care of my parents.” “This new therapy has risks. I might not make it, so I need you to lie to my parents.” “Tell them I died from cancer. If the treatment works and I recover, I’ll come back and surprise them.” I frowned. “You think they’ll buy that?” “Don’t worry, my parents are easy to fool. If they insist on seeing my body, just tell them I didn’t want them to suffer, so you had me cremated and my ashes scattered at sea, like I wanted.” “You’ve really thought this through.” “Tomorrow we’ll file for divorce, then I’ll go abroad for treatment.” “You’re just going for treatment, not dying. Why do we need to get divorced?” “My assistant said there’s a new policy there. Unmarried women with breast cancer get a discount on this new therapy.” “Honey, I’m just trying to save you money. Can’t you see that?” “And it’s just a fake divorce, not real. When I get better, we’ll remarry.” “If it’s for your health, I’ve got no objections.” “Thank you, honey. I love you so much.” Seeing I agreed, Claire happily stood on tiptoes and gave me a quick kiss. The next morning, we went to file for divorce. She said she needed to discuss the overseas treatment with her assistant. Then she left. Less than half an hour later, my wife’s male assistant posted on Instagram. “I’m a genius! Convinced my boss to fake cancer so she’d divorce her husband. We just bought tickets and we’re heading to Hawaii!” “I’ve been waiting for this day forever. Once we get to Hawaii, I’ll post regular updates of me and my boss.” “Let everyone witness our happiness!” The post included several photos. Their faces weren’t shown, but their fingers were intertwined. I could clearly see the woman was wearing a black patterned shirt—the same one I’d personally picked out and bought for Claire. If yesterday I only had suspicions, now I was absolutely certain. Claire was cheating on me with her assistant. She divorced me just to go on vacation with him in Hawaii. In that moment, it felt like a ton of bricks hit my chest. I could barely catch my breath. We’d been married for years. We were always so loving. I never imagined she’d actually cheat on me. Claire didn’t come home that night. She texted saying she was planning the overseas trip with her assistant. They were flying out early the next morning. I asked if she wanted me to see her off at the airport. She said it wasn’t necessary. When I sent another message, there was no response. I put down my phone and took a deep breath. At this point, she was probably tangled up with that assistant. If I kept bothering her, I’d just look pathetic.

I tossed and turned all night. The next day, Claire and her assistant showed up at the airport. They were all over each other. Sharing a cookie between them. Stopping to kiss every few steps. They looked more like a married couple than we ever did. Worse yet—they walked right past me. Claire didn’t even notice me. I calmly recorded everything on my phone. I didn’t leave until they boarded the plane. At the same time, Derek posted another update. The photo showed them holding hands as they boarded. “Successfully boarded with my boss!” “Destination: Hawaii.” “I think I’m the happiest guy in the world right now!” The comments were full of envy and congratulations. Derek replied to each one personally. When someone in the comments asked, “I thought your boss was married? What about her husband?” Derek replied: “That middle-aged slob? He’s greasy and disgusting.” “My boss lying next to him every night was pure torture.” “But now it’s great—they’re divorced. From now on, she’s all mine.” “She’s finally free!” Since Derek had videos showing his face on his profile, everyone could see he was young, handsome, and charming. So no one blamed him for breaking up a marriage. Instead, they all said he and his boss were a perfect match. I was livid. I created a burner account and commented: “Your boss had a child with another man. Doesn’t that bother you?” Less than two minutes later, Derek replied. “How could she have had a child with that man?” “They didn’t have kids?” “She got pregnant before, but I didn’t want my amazing boss to ruin her figure from childbirth, so I convinced her to get an abortion.” Reading that response, rage shot through my veins. So that’s why Claire couldn’t get pregnant all these years. We went to the hospital for tests, and they said there was nothing wrong. Margaret and Mr. Anderson even reassured me not to stress about it. They said pregnancy happens when it happens. Just let nature take its course. But I never imagined the truth. It wasn’t that we had physical problems. It wasn’t that Claire couldn’t get pregnant. She did get pregnant. She just didn’t tell anyone. Then, at Derek’s urging, she secretly went to the hospital and had an abortion. Suppressing my murderous rage, I asked: “Aren’t you afraid of karma for convincing her to abort?” Derek replied: “Afraid of karma? Don’t make me laugh. There’s no such thing as karma in this world.” “As long as my boss belongs only to me forever, I don’t care.” “Even if I get struck by lightning, I’d accept it.” “Gotta go—we’re off to enjoy our time together in Hawaii. Bye, see you in the next video.” After that, Derek didn’t reply again. Meanwhile, I quickly made a major decision.

A few days later, during dinner, Margaret and Mr. Anderson asked me where Claire was. They hadn’t seen her in days. I hesitated before answering: “Claire’s been really busy with work.” They looked a bit suspicious but accepted the explanation. A week later, they were in a car accident. Mr. Anderson died on impact. Margaret was seriously injured. Fortunately, after emergency treatment at the hospital, her life was no longer in danger. But when she learned her husband had died, she cried hysterically and fainted several times. I took care of her in the hospital for two weeks. The question she asked most often was: “Where’s my daughter?” I never gave her a straight answer. Until one day, after I helped her finish her meal, she suddenly dropped to her knees. “Jason, ever since you married my daughter, I’ve treated you like my own son.” “Please, I’m begging you—tell me what happened to my daughter.” “Why can’t I reach her on the phone?” “When I asked her coworkers, they all said she quit a long time ago.” “What happened between you two?” I quickly helped Margaret to her feet. I couldn’t hide it anymore. I let out a long sigh and said, “Claire… she passed away from breast cancer. Her body was cremated, and her ashes were scattered at sea, just like she wanted.” “What… what?” Margaret gasped, staring at me in shock. I wiped my tears and explained through choked sobs. I told her that over two weeks ago, Claire found out she had stage four breast cancer. She didn’t want her family to suffer, so she chose to bear it alone. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” “Claire said to keep it secret as long as possible.” “You… you…” Margaret was both furious and devastated. First, she learned her husband was dead. Now she learned her daughter was gone too. Under the double blow, she fainted again from grief. When she woke up, she cried until she lost her voice. Later, I received a text from Claire using an unknown number. “How are my parents?” “You didn’t tell them the truth, did you?” I smiled and replied: “Did exactly what you told me to.” “You’re the best. Keep hiding it from them.” “Something happened at home. Do you want to come back?” “I’m busy. Whatever it is, don’t bother me.” “You handle it.” When I sent another message, there was no response again. Keep enjoying yourself with Derek, Claire. A cold smile crept across my face. After that, Claire and I completely lost contact. I could only occasionally catch glimpses of them having a great time through Derek’s videos. As for Margaret, after she was discharged from the hospital, she became depressed and talked to herself constantly. I could tell—she was losing her mind. One day, she suddenly called me into her room and handed me a sealed envelope. Her eyes were red as she said, “Jason, I can’t hold on much longer. I’m afraid I’ll completely lose my mind. Before that happens, take this. This is everything the Anderson family owns.”

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