The moment the explosion went off, my wife snatched the blast shield that was supposed to be mine and turned to protect her first love. Three years of marriage. Six years fighting side by side. She never even looked back at me. She thought I was under a Curse—that I couldn’t die. She thought all my compromises, all my sacrifices, were simply my duty. She didn’t know— that in that moment, what she handed away with her own hands was the last of the lives bound by that Curse. After the bomb exploded, the entire room became an inferno, with towering flames instantly engulfing my body. The last image before my eyes was of my wife, Leah, using the blast shield that originally belonged to me to protect her first love, Justin. When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a spirit form, following Leah. At that moment, she was tenderly blowing on Justin’s hand, which had been slightly singed by the flames, her face full of concern. “Justin, your hand is all red. Let’s go to the hospital quickly to get it bandaged.” Hearing this, my heart felt as if it had been soaked in vinegar, unbearably sour. Anyone who saw this scene would comment on the deep affection between the two. But this woman was my wife of three years. She had never shown such a concerned expression for me. The redness on Justin’s palm was barely visible unless you looked closely, yet Leah was so worried. When I was engulfed in flames, she didn’t even spare me a glance. Justin looked scared. “Leah, it’s just a small injury, nothing serious. It’s a good thing you were there, or I would have been seriously hurt for sure.” Leah still looked tense: “Who says it’s a small injury? What if there’s some internal damage? I won’t be at ease until a doctor checks it out.” With that, she immediately took Justin’s hand and walked towards the exit, her usually calm face full of anxiety. Before getting into the car, Emily, a colleague from the same team, stopped her with a frown: “Lucas is still at the scene and hasn’t come out. The bomb just exploded, could something have happened to him?” Hearing my name, Leah’s expression instantly turned to disgust, her face full of impatience. “What could happen? That selfish bastard values his life too much, he’s probably hiding somewhere.” “Get out of the way quickly, Justin needs to go to the hospital, we can’t delay.” From leaving the explosion site until now, Leah hadn’t mentioned me once, hadn’t shown any concern for my safety. Even when someone else worried that something might have happened to me, she had to belittle me. I must be quite a failure as a husband in her heart. Leah pushed Emily aside and got into the car with Justin, heading straight to the hospital, ignoring Emily’s calls behind them. At the hospital, after the examination, Justin hadn’t suffered any injuries, just a small red mark on his hand where the flame had singed it. Leah, however, acted as if it was a major crisis, insisting that the doctor must bandage it well. Justin looked at her with emotion: “Leah, you’re still so good to me.” Then he hesitated before speaking again: “Without a blast shield, will Lucas be alright? After all, he came to save me. I’ll feel guilty if something happens to him.” Leah waved her hand, her words showing no concern at all. “Lucas is under a Curse, he won’t die. Your body is already not good, you can’t take any injury.” “He even tried to keep the blast shield earlier, saying he would die this time. He’s so selfish. He clearly has a Curse that can save him, yet he tried to trick me. I think he just can’t stand seeing me being good to you. When he comes back, I’m going to have a big fight with him for sure.” By the end, Leah was full of anger, as if I had committed some terrible crime. But I just wanted to live. I hadn’t lied to her either. The Curse had only given me two chances to revive, and I had already used them up.

I was a soul bound by a Curse, transported to this world. The terms of my damnation were clear: make Leah marry me. The year I met Leah, she was, like me, a newly recruited bomb disposal officer in the police force. At that time, her first love Justin had broken up with her abruptly to go abroad, leaving Leah in a daze every day. It was I who stayed by her side constantly, helping her out of the gloom. Three years later, we naturally became husband and wife, and the first seal of the Curse was lifted. The Curse, in its cruel irony, granted me a reprieve: I could stay, but with a price—two more lives, woven from the same thread of fate. At that time, I had also truly fallen in love with Leah. I believed that the most important thing between husband and wife was honesty, so I told her about the Curse without reservation. I even jokingly said, “No matter what, this Curse won’t let me die. I can stay with you until we’re old.” But I never thought that this sentence would become my death warrant. Shortly after we got married, Justin returned from abroad. Justin only shed a few tears in front of Leah, explaining that going abroad was entirely his parents’ wish, which he couldn’t disobey. Leah believed him without hesitation. She seemed to forget the pain Justin had caused her back then and started following him around, caring for his every need. She even begged me to use the power of the Curse to save Justin when he was in a life-threatening car accident. When I saw Leah crying her eyes out, I couldn’t say I wasn’t heartbroken. How could I not be sad and angry when my wife was shedding tears for another man? But I loved Leah deeply, and I couldn’t refuse her request. So, the first of my cursed lives was used up. Last year, after Leah had finished defusing a bomb and was about to return to the team, she was shot by a criminal who had fought back, right in the heart. When Leah was sent to the hospital, the doctor took one look and issued a death notice. I couldn’t accept Leah leaving me, so I resolutely offered her my own last cursed life. Before the transfer, the oppressive weight of the Curse pressed upon me, a final warning: this was the last life. Would I not regret it? I answered firmly: “I won’t regret it.” The Curse accepted the exchange, and after that, its presence faded, leaving only the cold truth of my mortality. At that time, I thought Leah’s feelings for Justin were just an obsession, and that with time, she would naturally come to her senses and return to our family. And I firmly believed that I could grow old with Leah. But now, the cruel reality had given me a harsh wake-up call. It turned out that Leah had always only loved Justin. And I was just deluding myself.

Justin looked at Leah, seeming to want to say something but holding back. Leah tapped his forehead, her tone intimate: “Justin, what is it that you can’t tell me?” Justin clenched his fist, as if making up his mind to speak. “Leah, Lucas has always been the ace bomb disposal expert in your team, and with you assisting this time, how could the bomb explode? Could it be that…” Justin didn’t continue, but left room for endless imagination. A raging fire of anger surged in my heart, my hands clenched into fists, wishing I could rush forward and give him a couple of punches. I was already dead, yet he still wouldn’t let me go, trying to poison Leah against me. As a police officer, I knew my responsibilities and never brought personal emotions into work. Although I already knew Leah didn’t love me, I thought that after working together for six years, she should understand my character. The next second, Leah’s words shattered my illusions. “I was wondering why the bomb suddenly exploded when we were defusing it so well. It must be that lunatic Lucas deliberately trying to harm you. I’m going to report him to the police force. He doesn’t deserve to be a police officer!” Leah’s face was red with anger. I had no doubt that if I appeared in front of her now, she would definitely slap me and then curse me viciously. At this moment, my heart was filled with bitterness. Had I overestimated my image in Leah’s heart, or was Justin so important to her that she would believe whatever he said? Probably both. Six years of being together couldn’t buy even a little trust from her. Now, I was probably just a despicable villain in her heart. But I still remembered what she had said at our wedding, “You’re not just my husband, but also my comrade-in-arms whom I’ll trust for a lifetime.” Now, it only took a light remark from Justin for her to forget her past promises. I suddenly wanted to know, when she learns of my death, will she regret the words she said today? Leah paced back and forth in the room, unable to vent her anger. She took out her phone and sent me messages. “Lucas, how dare you tamper with the bomb, I’ll make you pay for this!” “Don’t think I don’t know you can’t die, reply to me right now.” Leah stared at her phone intently, but after one minute, two minutes passed, there was still no reply. In the past, I would always reply to her messages within ten seconds. Leah’s chest heaved up and down with anger. “Fine, pretend to be dead then. Don’t think I can’t do anything about you.” She called a colleague who had stayed at the scene, not even waiting for the other end to speak before she shouted angrily: “Tell Lucas I know all about his dirty tricks, he’d better be prepared to face disciplinary action!” An anxious voice came from the other end of the phone: “Lucas hasn’t come out yet, the fire hasn’t been put out and we can’t get in. He might really be in trouble.” Leah sneered, her tone icy cold. “He won’t die. I think he’s just hiding because he’s afraid of being held accountable. You tell him this trick won’t work. He almost killed Justin, I will definitely get to the bottom of this!” With that, she angrily hung up the phone, still cursing under her breath. A flash of smugness passed through Justin’s eyes, but he pretended to be magnanimous. “Leah, it’s normal for men to be jealous. Lucas was probably just momentarily confused. Let it go.” But Leah glared at him with a stern face. “How can we let it go! Your body hasn’t been good since the car accident, and this time if it weren’t for the blast shield, your life could have been in danger. We can’t let him off easily!” Justin hugged Leah emotionally, the two looking like a couple who had survived a disaster together.

After leaving the hospital, Leah took Justin directly home, using the excuse that he was injured and couldn’t manage daily life conveniently. As soon as they entered, Justin took out slippers in a familiar manner, and even accurately found the location of the remote control to turn on the TV. This series of familiar actions all demonstrated that Leah had brought him to our home many times before. Leah went to the kitchen and started cooking, muttering about what Justin liked to eat. Justin looked at her tenderly. “Leah, it’s been so long since I’ve tasted your cooking.” In our three years of marriage, Leah had never cooked. She said she didn’t know how. I didn’t mind and took over all the cooking and other household chores. Now it seems, she just didn’t cook for me. During dinner, Leah’s phone suddenly rang, with a suppressed crying voice coming through. “You need to come quickly, Lucas… he’s dead.” Leah rolled her eyes, not believing a word. “Emily, I know you’re close to Lucas, but there’s no need to use such a clumsy excuse to trick me. He can’t die.” Emily didn’t expect her to respond like this. She paused, then cried even louder. “I’m really not lying, Lucas…” Before Emily could finish, Leah hung up the phone. “Lucas is really going too far, trying to use such a lie to make us forgive him. Ha, absolutely not!” “Even if something happened to him, the Curse would save him. How could he possibly die?” Justin chimed in: “He’s probably just jealous. Men understand men, Leah, don’t be too angry.” Hearing this, Leah slammed down her chopsticks, looking even more angry. “If he doesn’t apologize to you properly when he comes back, I’ll divorce him!” My heart felt like it was stuffed with a wad of cotton, unable to breathe. When I begged her not to take away the blast shield, I had already told her that I only had two cursed lives left. But she didn’t believe me at all, thinking I was just being jealous. Even now when someone told her about my death, she thought it was my lie, and even wanted to use divorce to threaten me. But this trick would never work again. After dinner, Justin directly lay down on the bed that belonged to Leah and me. The temperature in the room was rising, and the two of them were getting closer and closer. I desperately wanted to escape from here, but a force confined me to the room, unable to leave. Just as they were about to kiss, Leah suddenly sat up. She tugged at the corner of her mouth: “Justin, your hand is injured, you should focus on recovering.” With that, she fled to the next bedroom. I couldn’t quite understand. Wasn’t this what Leah wanted? Early the next morning, Leah prepared a table full of breakfast and left a note with detailed instructions and reminders before she felt at ease to leave for work. At the police station, Leah found everyone staring at her with sympathetic gazes. She didn’t understand and casually asked a colleague why they were staring at her like that. The colleague was about to speak when the chief suddenly called Leah over. Leah felt a bit puzzled: “Chief, what’s going on?” The chief patted her shoulder and led her to the door of the morgue. “Leah, my condolences.” Leah felt a bit panicked but suppressed the unease in her heart. “Chief, what are you talking about? Everyone in my family is fine, what condolences?” The chief sighed: “After the bomb exploded yesterday, Lucas didn’t manage to escape successfully. He died at the scene. His body is inside.” Leah smiled stiffly: “Chief, don’t joke with me. That explosion was Lucas’s own doing, he couldn’t possibly die. He must be hiding because he’s afraid of being held accountable.” The chief’s expression became serious when he heard Leah slandering me. “Leah! Lucas is your husband and a police officer. How can you question his professional ethics!” “The body in the morgue is indeed his. We’ve already verified the DNA. If you don’t believe it, go see for yourself.” Leah swallowed hard, hesitantly walking forward, still not backing down. “I’ll look then. It must be a fake body up there. Lucas must have used some trick to escape.” Leah’s hand hovered over the white cloth, her trembling hands revealing her unsettled heart. She slowly lifted the white cloth…

My body had been burned beyond recognition by the fire from the explosion, almost turned into a piece of charcoal. I turned my head away, unable to bear seeing my own tragic state after death. I still clearly remembered the scene during the explosion. My internal organs were shattered by the shock wave from the explosion, blood constantly flowing from the corner of my mouth. The raging fire had wrapped me into a fireball, my body had long since gone numb, unable to feel pain. At that moment, Leah was firmly shielding Justin with the blast shield that belonged to me. And I, her husband, didn’t even get a glance from her until my death. Leah’s pupils contracted, and she involuntarily took a few steps back. “This… this can’t be possible. You must have made a mistake.” “Lucas won’t die. I’m going to call him right now and make him come back immediately.” Leah took out her phone with trembling hands to call me, misdialing several times. As expected, it was still unreachable. Her lips trembled slightly, forcing out a stiff smile. “Maybe his phone was burned. Perhaps if we wait a bit longer, he’ll come back to the police station on his own.” The chief shook his head and handed her a document, his expression grave. “Leah, this is the DNA report we rushed out last night. Take a look.” Leah took the report with trembling hands. When she saw the words on it, all color drained from her face. The DNA of the deceased matched 99.9999% with Lucas’s. Leah stared at the report, murmuring, “How can this be? Lucas said he wouldn’t die. How can it be him?” Leah suddenly pounced on my remains, looking them up and down, as if searching for something. I was a bit confused. My body had been burned to this state, was there still anything recognizable? Leah seemed to discover something in my hand. She slowly pulled it out. It turned out to be our wedding ring. I remembered that at the moment the fire started, I had taken it off and clutched it tightly in my hand, afraid it would be burned. Leah collapsed to the ground, her face devoid of any color. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t die? How could you break your promise?” “I thought you would be fine. I didn’t mean to get you killed.” If Leah had just looked up at me for a moment during the explosion, she would have seen that I had already become a fireball. How could it be as she thought, that I was protected by the Curse? Moreover, I had told her that I only had two cursed lives left. It was she who didn’t believe what I said.

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At the company’s new product launch event, the massive screen suddenly started playing a video of me being sexually assaulted years ago. Whispers rippled through the crowd as I frantically snatched the remote control, only to have my husband Damian stop me. “Elara, so you do know it’s wrong to expose someone’s privacy. Then why did you post Seraphina’s nightclub photos yesterday?” Only then did it hit me: last night on Instagram, I’d shared a picture of a masked stripper dancing at a nightclub. But the dancer was wearing a mask. I had no idea who it was. Before I could explain, Damian snatched the remote from my hand. The humiliating video continued to play on the screen. Damian, meanwhile, picked up Seraphina and walked away. Watching his triumphant smirk, I knew this time, I really had to leave… Damian Corp’s exhibition hall was fully automated. Besides the remote, there was no manual switch to control the big screen. At this very moment, everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen, showing me. It was Damian Corp’s executive suite on the top floor, usually reserved for their most valuable clients. My once-neat suit jacket was now ripped to shreds, soaked in wine. My shoulders, my collarbones, were covered in the hickeys of a stranger. I huddled in the corner, trembling uncontrollably. But the drunken man seemed only more excited. He gathered his strength and lunged at me, His thick, greasy hands slowly tracing my waist… The scene before me dragged up eight years of tormenting memories. “Ugh!” I dry-heaved, completely out of control. Reporters, their eyes glued to the screen, rushed me with their cameras. One male reporter, a predatory smirk plastered across his face, grabbed my shoulder. His hands quickly slid down to my waist. “Thought Mrs. Damian was so high and mighty! Turns out you just used your body to get ahead! Mr. Damian took a piece of trash like you into his home – tell me, how do you please him? When can I get a taste of Mrs. Damian myself?” I shoved his hand off my waist. Trembling, I tried to stand up, to escape this living hell, But a dozen cameras were shoved right into my face. “Mrs. Damian, Mr. Damian chose to play your humiliation video in front of everyone. Does this mean he’s already tired of you? Or has he always been disgusted by you? You haven’t been able to conceive all these years; is it because he finds you dirty?” “Mrs. Damian, do you think Mr. Damian married you because he was impressed with your ‘special skills’?” “Please tell us, how many deals did you help Damian Corp close with these… methods over the years?” The suffocating crowd of people in front of me caused a sudden hallucination. One moment, they were beasts with gaping maws, eager to devour me. The next, they all morphed into his face, with those lewd, greasy grins, reaching out to touch my body. I completely snapped. I scrambled up from the floor, my eyes bloodshot, screaming at the people surrounding me with all my might. “Yes! I’m that dirty! I’m a piece of trash! Get out!” Then, I fled in a panicked scramble, under their gazes of disgust and contempt… The moment I ran out of the exhibition hall doors, my phone pinged with a message: [Elara, the fun’s not over yet. Look up…] I snapped my head up. On the giant screens of commercial complexes lining both sides of the road, the same video was playing. My phone rang again: [Elara, check your phone again?] I opened my social media apps and saw a photo of me, barely clothed, my neck bruised with hickeys, trending… The piercing ringtone made my soul shudder. I picked it up mechanically. First came Seraphina’s sugary giggle, then her tone suddenly sharpened. “Elara, everyone might call you Mrs. Damian, but you’re still my loser!” The call ended with a burst of wild laughter. I’d lost count of how many times this had happened. The first time, because the cat we kept at home accidentally scratched Seraphina’s leg, Damian threw me into the reptile house at the zoo. I’d been terrified of snakes since childhood; Damian knew that. Yet, that day, he just stood outside, holding Seraphina, watching with cold eyes as I screamed until my throat was raw. The second time, when I attended a gala, I tripped and accidentally spilled wine on Seraphina’s gown. Damian, in front of everyone, poured a dozen bottles of wine over me. My sheer dress was soaked, my figure exposed for all to see. After that incident, even now, when I accompany Damian to parties, people still sarcastically call me ‘the Wine Whore.’ And what else? Too many times… If not for my family’s business crumbling thirteen years ago, when Damian risked everything to save me from creditors, If not for eight years ago, when after being assaulted by that old man, Damian was the first to step forward and protect me, I would have left him long ago. But now, Damian himself had shredded the very protection he once offered, turning it into a dagger aimed straight at me. I knew there was nothing left to hold onto…

I gritted my teeth, trying to make it home. But before I could even cross the street, a wave of dizziness swept over me. Amidst blaring horns and stares of judgment, I collapsed to the ground. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. From outside the room, I heard the doctor’s concerned voice. “Mr. Damian, we agreed not to upset your wife again. Why did you…?” “Her condition was just starting to recover, and now she’s back to square one. If we’re not careful in the future…” “Will she die?” Damian’s cold voice cut off the doctor. “Not now, but if…” “If she won’t die, then don’t talk about it.” The doctor seemed to want to say more, but Damian had lost his patience. “How I treat my wife is none of your business. I know what I’m doing. Get out!” The doctor left, and the room door opened from the outside. “Elara, it’s me.” Damian leaned down and kissed my forehead, then gently brushed the hair from my face. “Wake up, you’ve been asleep for a long time.” My body fell into a wide embrace, Damian’s stubbled cheek brushing against my neck. “Elara, don’t mind what people outside are saying. What happened eight years ago never mattered to me. I love you, only you.” His familiar breathing enveloped me, Once, it was my source of strength, but now, I only felt disgust. But I had no strength to push him away. Damian seemed to think I was still as docile as before. His mood instantly brightened. He ruffled my hair a few times, then got up, scooped a small bowl of porridge, and carefully held it to my lips. “Elara, eat a little. Though the doctor says you’re fine, you still need to eat something.” The warm porridge touched my lips from the spoon. I hesitated for a moment but swallowed it. My health had to come first, after all. “Feeling better?” After feeding me a few more spoonfuls and seeing I still hadn’t replied, Damian spoke in a low voice, his tone unmistakably firm. “Since you’re feeling better, go apologize to Seraphina.” I turned sharply, meeting Damian’s cold eyes. “Why should I?” There was no emotion in Damian’s dark eyes. “That girl tried to kill herself because of your photo. If I hadn’t gotten there in time, she would have died. This is a matter of life and death, you have to go.” “Damian, what about me? She put my photos…” “Elara.” Damian frowned, slamming the porridge bowl onto the table, his voice suddenly turning cold. “I don’t have time to bicker about trivial things with you. Your mother’s doctor called again this afternoon. I’ve been arranging for a new specialist from overseas…” “I’ll go.” Getting the answer he wanted, Damian kissed me and then left. Watching his retreating back, my heart plummeted into an abyss again. Though his tone was flat, I still heard the threat in it. My mother had a rare neurological disorder. For eight years, Damian had been paying the exorbitant medical bills and constantly flying in doctors. He never made a show of it before. But today, for that woman, he was using my mother to threaten me… A bitter ache exploded in my chest. I found that familiar number and sent a message. [Come back, Caleb. I need you.] Caleb, my only living relative, had estranged himself from our family early on to pursue his directing ambitions. But for the grand play I was about to stage, to achieve the desired effect, only he could do it… [Okay, arriving in New York in three days.] [Elara, I’m taking Seraphina to clear her head. We’ll be back in three days. Prepare yourself during these days. In three days, come to the company and give Seraphina a proper apology.] Caleb’s and Damian’s messages came in at the same time. I clutched my phone tightly, sobbing aloud on the hospital bed, then a mad smile stretched across my face…

Early in the morning, three days later, Damian’s driver knocked on my door. Seeing me, the driver looked hesitant. “Mrs. Damian…” “Let’s go. I’ll come with you.” The driver’s attitude had already prepared me, But the moment I saw everything before me, I froze. The man who had assaulted me eight years ago was now sitting in Damian’s office, chatting casually. But eight years ago, Damian had told me he’d personally had him locked up… “Oh, Elara, you’re actually on time…” Seraphina, her voice sickly sweet, emerged from Damian’s office. She reached out and pulled me directly inside. The balding, greasy man extended his hand to me. I quickly stepped back half a pace, bumping into a wine cabinet behind me. A large patch of crimson wine instantly soaked through my blouse. The look the man gave me again made me dry-heave uncontrollably. I stared intensely at Damian. He was rubbing his temples, avoiding my gaze, Seemingly about to say something, but Seraphina cut him off. “Elara, we’re all old friends here, don’t be so shy…” Seraphina stepped forward, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me closer. “Damian said that making you embarrassed in front of everyone that day was a bit much, so today, we’ll just resolve this apology of yours here in Damian’s office.” She gestured with her chin towards the older man. “Mr. Hayes is a valued client of our company, and a good friend of mine. As long as you can keep Mr. Hayes happy today, I won’t hold a grudge against you…” The moment Seraphina finished speaking, The man grabbed me and pulled me next to him. His burly hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his embrace. “You were young back then, didn’t really satisfy me well. Now you must have been ‘trained’ quite a bit by Mr. Damian, haven’t you? Today…” The wine spilled on my back now soaked through to my front. The man’s eyes and hand simultaneously slid down from my shoulder. I bit down hard on my lower lip, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth. Damian, sitting in the distance, looked down, silent. A massive wave of humiliation rose up from my chest, choking me. With every ounce of strength I had, I shoved the man away. Before Seraphina’s smile could even fade, I slapped her across the face, Then I grabbed her wrist and shoved her into the man’s arms. “If he’s such a good friend of yours, then you should be the one to keep Mr. Hayes happy!” The old man, clearly a man with no fear, let out a lewd chuckle, Then he ripped Seraphina’s sheer dress, picked her up in his arms, and kissed the pale skin of her chest. I watched the scene unfold, a shiver of perverse satisfaction running through me. Suddenly, someone’s hand clenched around my neck. Then I was thrown out, smashing against the wine bottles shattered on the floor. Countless shards of glass dug into my flesh. Blood and the red wine spilled earlier splattered across me like crimson flowers. In the midst of the excruciating pain, Damian had already rushed towards the screaming Seraphina. He punched the man in the face, scooped Seraphina into his arms, Then turned and grabbed my throat. “Elara, I never thought you could be so vicious! Seraphina was trying to make things easy for you with this apology, yet you’re still ungrateful! Just because you ‘serviced’ this man eight years ago, you won’t do it again?!” “Fine! Since you have no shame, then I, Damian, have nothing to hold me back! Today, I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget!” Damian dragged my crimson-stained body away. It wasn’t until I saw the hospital’s outline from the car that I realized what Damian’s “punishment” would be…

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Three o’clock in the afternoon. Robin, a new colleague who’d just joined, suddenly tagged me in the company’s SnapChat group with hundreds of people: [That bitch at workstation 203, can you PLEASE stop typing? The noise is making me get gregnancy cramps!] [My baby is sleeping in my belly. If you give him a concussion, I’ll make your whole family pay with their lives!!] I quickly explained that I was rushing to finish a proposal due soon, and that I was using a silent keyboard. But Robin wouldn’t believe it, no matter what. I patiently explained a few times, even applying to work in the hallway to avoid trouble. What I didn’t expect was that a week later, Robin would barge into the breakroom with a kettle of freshly boiled water and pour it all over my head. I collapsed into the scorching puddle, my skin searing and tearing. Robin still kept savagely slamming my head with a high heel, screaming hysterically: “It’s all your fault! I had a miscarriage! Your keyboard noise killed my son!!” My vision blurred, and eventually, I lost consciousness—even in death, I couldn’t figure out how a silent keyboard could kill someone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Robin had cursed me in the group chat. Facing those familiar curses, I didn’t back down this time. I snapped back directly in the group: “What pregnant woman act are you putting on?! You’ve got more between your legs than a woman do!”

The moment my message hit the group, the buzzing chat, where hundreds of people had been intensely discussing proposals, fell into a dead silence. A few seconds later, Robin’s messages exploded, flooding the screen: [Stella, you rotten bitch, what are you even talking about?! I’m three months pregnant, I have the ultrasound scan right here. How dare you slander me?!] [Everyone, look! Stella from 203 can’t get pregnant herself, so she can’t stand to see anyone else have a baby!] [@HR @Mr. Davies, with someone like this in the company, I’m calling the police! This is defamation! This is a personal attack!] Robin threw a dramatic fit, and colleagues immediately jumped to their feet, their accusations all aimed at me. Chloe from the design department chimed in: [Stella, you’re going too far. How can you talk to a pregnant woman like that? Your mouth is just toxic!] Another person tried to calm Robin: [Robin, calm down, don’t get angry for the baby’s sake. Stella might just be joking.] But Robin wouldn’t let it go: [Joking? Is that the kind of joke you make? What’s there to even say to her? She’s just jealous that I married well and I’m carrying my husband’s child!] [My baby already has a fragile pregnancy! The doctor specifically told me to rest!] [And this hussy? Her keyboard clatters like a jackhammer! If anything happens to my baby, I’ll rip her to shreds first!] Other colleagues in the building also started to chime in: [Exactly, Robin said she wasn’t feeling well, can’t you just keep it down?] [It’s already afternoon, can’t you turn in that proposal tomorrow? Why do you have to bother a pregnant woman?] Watching them twist the facts, I was so angry I started to laugh. In my past life, this was how they pushed me into a corner, step by step. I explained countless times that I used a silent keyboard. To avoid bothering her, I even carried my laptop to the hallway to work overtime. But what I got in return was her dousing me head-to-toe with a kettle of boiling water, leaving me scarred and disfigured. Before I died, my skin was scalded off, my skull smashed by a high heel. Robin’s deranged face was the last thing I saw in that life. I closed my eyes, and the burning pain of boiling water poured over my head felt like it was still etched into my soul. Rage and hatred clashed in my chest. Robin was still frantically tagging me in the group: [Speechless? Why aren’t you saying anything, you bitch? Feeling guilty?] [Are you doing this on purpose? You don’t want me to have a good life, right? I finally got pregnant, and you just have to kill my son, don’t you?] [If anything happens to him, can you afford to compensate? Will you pay with your life?] “Pay with my life?” “Am I supposed to pay for the crap you’re birthing?” I stared at those words, unable to hold back my fury any longer. I recorded a voice message in a cold tone and sent it to the group: “Fine, come here now. If you dare to take off your pants in front of the entire company, I, Stella, will jump off this building right now and pay for your son with my life!”

My voice message sent the entire company into an uproar. The group chat went silent for a full minute. Then, a commotion erupted in the direction of my workstation. I looked up and saw Robin, clutching her stomach, being helped by a few female colleagues, her eyes red as she walked towards me. “Stella!” Her voice was sharp, tearful, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice. “How can you be so malicious? What did I ever do to you that you have to humiliate me like this?” “I’m carrying a boy! He’s the only child our family has, can’t you just let him be?” The female colleagues around her immediately grew indignant: “Stella, you’re beyond cruel, aren’t you? Robin just started working here, and you’re bullying her like this?” “Exactly! Don’t you plan on having kids yourself one day? Would you want your own child cursed like this?” “Picking a fight with an unborn baby, aren’t you afraid of karma?” Robin continued to gag, acting the part perfectly, tears flowing freely as she leaned weakly on a colleague: “I’ll kill you… you ruined my reputation… I’ll kill you…” Her shrill cries grated on my ears, and even more, they triggered the memories of my past life. The thought of being brutally murdered by this gender-bending lunatic made my body tremble uncontrollably. Hearing her say she’d kill me, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I shot up from my seat, shoved the colleague next to her aside, and grabbed Robin by the collar. “Kill me? You already killed me once in my last life!” “Act! Keep acting for me! Where’s your belly? Where’s your ultrasound scan? Show it to me!” Robin was stunned by my aggression, freezing for a few seconds. Then, suddenly, she lunged at my face, claws extended. I quickly dodged, then precisely tripped her with my foot. With a *thud*, she fell face-first to the floor. Recalling the searing pain of boiling water poured over my head in my previous life, a wave of pure fury washed over me. I stomped on her back, grabbed her smooth wig, and slammed her head against the floor. “Let’s see you act now! Let’s see you pretend! Today, I’m going to see exactly what you are!” Robin was pinned under my foot, only able to let out pig-like squeals: “Ah! Help! Stella’s gone crazy! She’s trying to kill me! My stomach… my baby…” Her piercing screams attracted more colleagues. Everyone rushed forward, trying to pull us apart. I was held back by two male colleagues, my breath still ragged. By my count, I’d only been reborn for half an hour. Meaning, just half an hour ago, I had been murdered by this monster right in front of me! How could I stay calm?! But after they pulled me away, everyone pointed fingers at me, yelling: “Stella, are you insane?! This whole thing started because of your foul mouth, and you dare to hit a pregnant woman?!” “I never knew our company had such a vicious woman!” “I’ve already called security! If you try to lay a hand on her again, we’re calling the police directly to deal with you!”

Freed from my restraint, Robin became arrogant again. She was helped up, clutching her stomach, and pointed at me tearfully: “See, everyone? She’s just jealous of me! She wants to kill my baby!” She staggered towards me, raising a hand to slap me. I tried to struggle and hit back, but the male colleagues held me firmly. “You still want to fight back?! Can’t you just behave?!” Seeing me immobilized, Robin’s face twisted into a smug sneer, and her insults grew uglier: “You barren slut! You deserve to rot in hell!” Other colleagues also chimed in, accusing me of lacking empathy. Chloe, the same colleague from before, comforted Robin while vehemently saying to me: “You’re a grown woman, yet you have no shame! Getting a pregnant woman so upset over a proposal, what are you thinking?” “It’s hard enough for Robin, being pregnant and working. If anything happens to her, can you take responsibility?” I struggled to break free, shouting in rebuttal: “How many times have I explained? I’m using a silent keyboard! How could I possibly bother her? With brainwaves?” “Besides, she says she’s pregnant, but who here has seen her prenatal reports? Who has seen her husband pick her up?” My words made a few people pause, a hint of doubt entering their eyes. Robin, however, immediately pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her bag: “This is my ultrasound scan! It clearly states twelve weeks pregnant!” I scoffed: “You just said my keyboard was like a jackhammer, making your stomach hurt. Now you’re making such a huge commotion, crying and screaming, and your precious son is perfectly fine?” Everyone was taken aback. Chloe murmured to herself, “Yeah, when I was pregnant, I’d get anxious even from loud noises, let alone such a scene… Is Robin’s fetus that strong?” At that moment, security guards rushed in, and seeing the tense situation, they quickly spoke up: “Everyone, calm down! Let’s talk this out!” Robin, who had been so aggressive, suddenly covered her mouth and dry-heaved. After a moment, she weakly said: “I can’t… My stomach hurts so much… It must be because she pushed me, and I went into premature labor!” “I need to go to the hospital! If my baby is gone, Stella, I’ll haunt you even as a ghost!” I wasn’t about to let her off that easily. “Fine, let’s go to the hospital! I’ll come with you! I’ll even help you book an appointment with a urologist to check your prostate!” Robin instantly went ballistic, pointing a finger at me and screaming: “You… you crazy person! You’re slandering me! I’ll sue you for defamation!” I immediately declared to everyone: “Did everyone hear that? A simple check at the hospital will prove it. If she really is pregnant, I’ll kneel down and apologize to her in front of everyone, and I’ll cover all medical expenses!” Then, I turned to Robin: “Do you dare to go?” With that, I grabbed her, pulling her towards the exit. “Come on, let’s go now! Let the whole company see whether you’re carrying a baby or just pure malice!” All of us, me and my colleagues, stared at her, waiting for an answer. Robin’s face cycled through shades of red and white. She never dreamed that the soft target she had so easily manipulated in her past life would, in this life, become a furious, sharp-tongued maniac. She clung desperately to the office desk, refusing to budge. But then, as if an idea struck her, she suddenly collapsed onto the floor with a loud *thud*. A puddle of “blood” rapidly spread beneath her. She stretched out a trembling hand, pointing at me, her eyes filled with venom: “My baby… Stella… you killed my baby!”

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I saw a post on Instagram about a bar hiring staff. The place was pretty far from my apartment, but I went anyway. Because the bar was owned by Lucas Boone. My latest goal was to sleep with him. 1 I DM’d Lucas about the job posting for his bar, “Knights’ Tavern.” [Hey Lucas, your bar needs help—think I’d fit in?] Lucas replied quickly. [Having a gorgeous girl like you would be an honor. Come by tomorrow and check it out.] I met Lucas at a bar—he’s incredibly handsome, different from the usual drunk losers around him. He has this intellectual vibe that hooked me right away. The next afternoon, I stopped by his bar, but it was a total mess inside. When he saw me, he didn’t hold back. “Sorry about this, Emma. We’re finishing up renovations. Since you’re here, mind helping me put this privacy film on the windows?” “Bars work better when people can’t quite see inside—it makes them curious enough to come in, and even if they don’t love it, they might stay out of politeness. It’s all marketing.” I didn’t care what he was saying. My eyes were glued to his thighs and waist. He’s slim but works out regularly, and just looking at them made it clear how strong he is. After a few hours of work, we finally finished. Lucas told me to rest while he mixed a couple of new drinks for me to try. The dim amber lights inside made his face look even softer and more attractive as he walked over with two glasses. Lucas slid one drink in front of me. “Try this! My original creation—‘Addiction.’” I took a sip. The liquor slid smoothly down my throat—not too harsh, but it made me want another right away. “It’s really good!” I said honestly. Lucas looked thrilled, like he’d just won something, and downed his own drink in one go. He’s genuinely talented at mixing drinks—everyone who’s tried them agrees. But Lucas has zero tolerance for alcohol. He gets tipsy after just one. Sure enough, after that single drink, his eyes started to glaze over. What a perfect chance. I stood up, walked over to the hazy-eyed Lucas, lifted his chin, and pressed my lips to his. My tongue slipped into his mouth, tangling with his. Lucas quickly took control, breathing heavily as he held my head, pulling me in like he wanted to devour me. I pinched the soft spot on his waist, and he let go with a wince. “You’re drunk.” I grabbed my bag and left Knights’ Tavern. To me, men are like toys. I love watching them get seduced by me, going crazy over me. If I jump straight into bed, what’s the difference from a hookup? I thrive on that intense, teasing push-and-pull. 2 Maybe from all the built-up tension, I had a dream that night. I dreamed we were by the window at Knights’ Tavern. Lucas held me from behind, stripping off all my clothes, then spreading my long, pale legs wide in an M shape facing the street outside. People stopped to peek in, but Lucas didn’t care. He thrust hard into me from behind, over and over, until a wave of pleasure surged through my lower belly. I woke up, my thighs still trembling, the sheets beneath me soaked. I was breathing heavily, still lost in the afterglow of the erotic dream. My phone rang suddenly. It was Lucas. “Hello?” “Sorry about yesterday. I got carried away.” I stayed silent. He kept trying to fill the quiet. “I remember your place is pretty far from Knights’ Tavern. We stay open late, and it’s not safe for a girl to head home alone that late. You should rent something nearby, or if you don’t mind, you could stay with me. I’ve got a two-bedroom apartment…” “Sure.” Lucas laughed and hung up. The fish was about to bite the hook. I hoped this one wouldn’t bore me too quickly. I packed a few things, deliberately putting some sexy lingerie on top. When I got to Lucas’s place, he programmed my fingerprint into the lock and handed me a bag. “I just picked up some slippers and toiletries for you. Make yourself at home.” I glanced at the bathroom and got an idea. “Lucas, I’m all sweaty from moving. Mind if I use your shower?” Of course he didn’t say no. I purposely left my suitcase in the bedroom. Near the end of my shower, I called out like I was in a panic. He came running. “Lucas, my bra and panties are in the suitcase—you’ll see them right on top. Can you grab them for me?” His bathroom door is frosted glass with a sliding panel. I left a small gap open and stretched out my arm, still dripping with water. I’d turned on the heat lamp, and the light cast my silhouette perfectly onto the frosted door. I’m confident about my body. No way he could stay completely calm. He coughed awkwardly, then went to get them. I waited a while before he came back. I peeked out through the gap. His face was red like a ripe peach. It was the black lace set I’d carefully chosen—hollowed-out and revealing. The way his big hand gripped it made the whole thing feel erotic. He looked down and clumsily tried to pass the pieces through the gap, but I didn’t take them. Just as he opened his mouth, I slid my finger along his wrist, up to his fingertips, and took my lingerie. “Sorry, Lucas. Couldn’t quite reach.” Lucas is the type who acts proper when he’s sober. Men are all the same—they want it but pretend they don’t. 3 I changed into my bra and panties and was about to pull on a white sundress when my foot slipped. I fell hard and started crying from the pain. Lucas heard the noise from the bathroom and burst in without thinking. My dress buttons weren’t fastened yet, exposing a lot. Any other time I might have teased him more, but right now I wasn’t in the mood. My foot felt like it couldn’t move. “Lucas, it hurts!” I looked up at him, tears streaming. His gaze lingered on my chest for a few seconds before he knelt down, buttoned my dress, and scooped me up in his arms. Two steps out, he turned back to grab a fresh towel and draped it over my chest. Only then did I realize my wet hair had soaked the white fabric, making the black lace underneath completely visible. Lucas worried it might be a fracture and insisted on carrying me to the hospital. His car was parked at Knights’ Tavern—a five-minute walk even though it was close. I looked ridiculous like this and buried my face in his chest. It was summer, clothes were thin. His chest felt warm against the fabric, and I couldn’t resist leaning in and gently biting through his shirt. His body tensed, but he kept walking steadily to the car and drove to the nearest ER. Luckily, it was just a sprain. “The patient should avoid walking this week and no intense activity. You young folks shouldn’t get too wild.” I didn’t react much, but Lucas blushed deeply, quickly paid, grabbed the meds, and carried me home. He felt bad for not taking better care of me and made a huge dinner. “Have extra ribs and pork knuckles—they’re good for healing.” … That night, lying in the guest room, I got thirsty. I hopped on my good foot to the kitchen for water. Just a couple steps out the door, I saw something that made my stomach tighten—an R-rated scene. Lucas had apparently just used the bathroom and was flushing. Shirtless, he was tucking himself back into his pants when he turned and saw me. His sleepy eyes snapped wide open. “I… I forgot you were staying here! Usually no one’s home, so I don’t bother closing the door.” I pretended not to notice, turned away, and said I just wanted water. I hobbled toward the kitchen and nearly fell again. Lucas rushed over to steady me. “You didn’t wash your hands.” “Oh, sorry.” I started doubting my judgment. Lucas seemed like an innocent college guy, but the first time I saw him at the bar, my gut told me he was dangerous. Dangerous things are always the most fascinating—that’s why I wanted him.

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Ethan Harper is the older boy who lives next door to me, four years older than I am. During the hormone-driven teenage years, I accidentally walked in on him pleasuring himself. I have a secret I could never confess: I desperately wanted this man to touch me and…to trail his fingers slowly over my skin, to pull me close until I felt every inch of his heat pressing against me I felt ashamed of all the filthy thoughts filling my head. Not long after, Ethan Harper’s family moved away, and I never saw him again. But on countless nights, when I closed my eyes, his expression of pleasure mixed with pain would flash in my mind, along with the stifled gasps caught in his throat and the musky, sweet scent that hung in the air and made my heart race. I never imagined I would get another chance to see this man who haunted my dreams. In the pitch-black hallway, someone covered my eyes and touched me freely, but his scent and voice had already given him away. Ethan Harper, I am far more obsessed with you than you realize. But I won’t expose you. After all, the best hunters often appear as prey.

The alarm rang three times before it finally pulled me out of that blush-inducing erotic dream. I glanced at my phone: 9:27 a.m. Being late was inevitable. Feeling the sticky wetness beneath me, I sighed in resignation. Since I was already late, I might as well shower before heading to work. Steam filled the bathroom. My fingers brushing over my skin made me shiver, and I couldn’t help sliding them lower. I couldn’t hold back the sounds escaping my mouth. After about fifteen minutes, I stared at my flushed reflection in the mirror, lost in a brief daze, just as my phone rang. “Emily, are you going on that blind date I set up for the day after tomorrow or not? You’re 24 already. Can’t you let your dad and me relax a little? Your Aunt Karen’s daughter is only a year older than you and already has a kid.” Afraid I would refuse like before, the voice on the line softened. “Are you still hung up on little Ethan? With his family, his education, someone that perfect wouldn’t be interested in you. Let go of those thoughts. Dress up nicely the day after tomorrow and go on the date. Mom just wants what’s best for you.” My mind drifted back to that summer afternoon during my freshman year of college. The heat was unbearable, and I was in the mood, so I locked myself in my room to watch some adult videos. At the moment I was about to climax, I moaned Ethan’s name in a haze. I wrote it all down in my diary, including my deepest, most shameful secrets. Then my mom accidentally found it. She called me shameless for a young girl and hurled every ugly word at her own daughter. She even spread it as gossip to others. I felt like I had been stripped naked in public, pointed at like meat on a butcher’s block. How did I feel back then? Ashamed, suicidal, angry that I couldn’t control my mind and body, and heartbroken that my mom shared such a private disgrace. To avoid her bringing it up again, I agreed to the blind date.

When I clocked in at the office, my coworker Sophia pulled me aside. “Emily, where have you been? Listen, we got a new boss who just transferred in. He’s super hot and seems really nice, polite and refined. Just looking at him gives me motivation to work! Too bad you didn’t see him right away.” Sophia and I are both in the planning team. She has a wild imagination and loves exaggerating everything. Any decent-looking guy who isn’t hideous gets labeled a hottie by her. She probably spots about eighty handsome guys a day, so I didn’t take her description seriously. But that afternoon, when I saw the boss she was talking about, I froze. The face I had fantasized about countless times was right in front of me. He seemed to notice my stare and glanced my way, but he didn’t greet me. He didn’t recognize me. Of course, to him I was probably just the little neighbor girl. I tried to comfort myself, making excuses for him, but my heart still ached. The moment I saw him, it felt like a fire ignited inside me, burning all the way until I went to bed. Predictably, I dreamed of him again. In the dream, he used the hand I had once caught him with to stroke my lips, then my neck, my chest, and finally down to my stomach and into the warmth between my legs. He kissed my neck while guiding my hand to his hard, throbbing length. I rubbed the raised veins pulsing with excitement, my face burning. The size was far superior to anything I’d seen in adult videos. My mind went blank; all I wanted was to feel him inside me. I craved being filled by Ethan Harper. I knew it was a dream. I’d had this kind of dream too many times to count. In dreams, I was always bolder than in real life. I leaned down to kiss his erection. His hand pressed on my head as he called my name in the same voice I heard at the office that day. “Emily, suck harder. That’s it, baby. I love you, Emily.” Amid his words of love, I brought Ethan to climax. Ding ding ding. The alarm shattered the fantasy and dragged me back to reality. I lingered in the world with Ethan for a long time before remembering today was the blind date. Everyone has a refractory period after passion. When I was clear-headed, I hated myself for being like this. I showered as usual, put on my new white sundress, and applied subtle, elegant makeup. I have the innocent look that’s popular these days: fair skin, slim, youthful. At 24, people often mistake me for a high schooler. Thinking of what my mom said on the phone. It was probably time to open my heart and start a normal relationship. In the tenth year of using Ethan Harper as my fantasy, I decided to say goodbye to the Ethan in my heart.

The date was set at a cat café. I love cats. Even if we didn’t click, petting cats would keep things from getting too awkward. Then I saw my blind date: a guy in sunglasses, over six feet tall, dressed in black leather like he’d just come off stage at a rock festival. If Ethan was polished and courteous, this guy was the opposite extreme. He looked a bit like a bad boy. He took off his sunglasses and walked straight toward me. Only then could I see his face clearly. Objectively, very handsome, with long fingers and a strong nose. He looked like the type who would be amazing in bed. I nodded politely. “Hi, I’m Emily Harper. Aunt Karen set this up.” “Hey, I’m Jake Reed.” I was a little intimidated by guys who looked tough and unapproachable. But Jake gave off a straightforward, cheerful vibe. He blushed when I looked him in the eye while talking, nervously glancing at the orange tabby rubbing against his feet. Anyone cats like can’t be bad. I had a good impression of Jake. We chatted for a while before heading to a nearby mall for dinner. At the mall, I kept feeling like someone was watching us. I didn’t think much of it. If I saw a couple with our contrasting styles walking together, I’d probably stare too. After dinner, he suggested catching a movie. I agreed. “Anything you want to see?” he asked. “Isn’t there that new zombie flick getting great reviews?” It was super popular, so we only got awkward back-row couple seats in the corner. Jake was on my left. On my right was another couple who started making out the moment the previews began. I felt too shy to ask Jake to switch, so I just hoped their kissing sounds and cheesy lines wouldn’t last the whole film. The theater darkened, and the movie started. Barely ten minutes in, I heard soft whimpering from the girl on my right. She was trying to stay quiet, but I noticed. It was dark, especially in our corner with the sofa blocking the view, so they got bold. I saw the girl crouch between the guy’s legs. From my angle, her shoulders moved rhythmically, and I instantly realized what she was doing. After a while, she straddled him. I could even feel the sofa shaking slightly. Broken, muffled gasps reached my right ear. I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping my hands tightly. The mix of morality and voyeurism made my heart pound. A jolt shot to my core, and I shamefully got aroused. I had no idea what the movie was about because my attention was entirely on the couple next to me. On screen, survivors were being devoured by zombies, with oddly fitting orchestral music playing. In that atmosphere, I heard the girl let out a pitchy moan that blended into the score. No one noticed what they were doing except me. I saw a spurt land on the floor. They finished, but I hadn’t. I desperately needed relief. Then my hand was grabbed, and warm breath brushed my neck. My body stiffened. It was Jake.

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During the Christmas holidays, my wife Chloe insisted that I attend her class reunion. When we arrived at the hotel, the parking lot was filled with luxury cars. Ours, by comparison, looked utterly pathetic. Before we even stepped inside, a whisper of contempt drifted my way: “I just don’t get it. Chloe used to be the a well-known figure in the school at that time. How did she end up marrying a nobody like Alex?” Hearing that, Chloe simply smiled and chatted with her classmates, as if I wasn’t even there. After dinner, Brandon, the former baseball star of our school, walked up to me and grabbed Chloe’s hand. “Alex, I’m very interested in your partner. Name your price. From now on, she’s mine.” Instead of getting angry, I let out a cold laugh. “You two better think this carefully. The cost of divorcing me is far more than you imagine..” I wouldn’t have bothered with this class reunion if Chloe hadn’t begged me to come. Figuring we’d at least spent years together, I took time off work and showed up. Never imagined that during dinner, someone would openly try to poach my wife. What chilled me to the bone even more was that Chloe actually agreed. “Long time no see, your negotiating skills have really improved,” Brandon said, leaning back in his chair, his long fingers toying with his car keys. “The money is my thanks for you looking after Chloe all these years. Think of it as compensation.” “You, of all people, dare to threaten me with jail time? Don’t you know who I am?” Just as I was about to retort, I saw Chloe lean directly into Brandon’s arms. She was wearing a vibrant red dress today, her makeup flawless, but now she looked soft and vulnerable, draped against another man. “Alex, just take the money. It’ll be better for everyone.” A sneer flickered across my face as I watched their close embrace. “Looks like you two planned this all along, didn’t you?” Chloe had called me multiple times recently, urging me to attend this very reunion. It seemed she’d conspired with the school’s most popular guy beforehand, using this opportunity to make me publicly agree to a divorce. No wonder she’d kept me at arm’s length for so long after we got married. Turns out, she had someone else in her heart all along. The moment I spoke, Chloe’s face changed. Her perfectly sculpted brows furrowed. “What nonsense are you talking about! Brandon and I have true love!” “If he hadn’t been forced to go abroad for studies back then, we would have been together ages ago.” I was utterly stunned by her words. The entire school knew Brandon had dumped Chloe back then, and now it was a story of star-crossed lovers? I wasn’t sure why they’d reconnected, but right now, Chloe was legally still my wife. A suffocating anger swelled in my chest. I couldn’t swallow this insult, no matter what. “Chloe, do you even realize the trouble you’re getting into, breaking sacred vows and forcing a divorce?” I stared into her eyes as I spoke, but she couldn’t meet my gaze. Brandon pulled Chloe even closer, adopting a protective stance. “Cut the crap. You’re just upset because you think the money isn’t enough.” “Name your price! I’m loaded!” Facing this once handsome but now smug rich kid, I felt like I was watching a pathetic joke unfold. “Brandon, just a heads-up: if Chloe agrees to this divorce today, you two are going to have some serious problems.” Before I could finish, Chloe snapped, “Stop with the alarmist talk! What can you possibly do to us?” “Since we got married, we barely see each other. Who knows what you’ve been up to outside?” “Frankly, if you hadn’t pursued me back then, you wouldn’t be getting a single cent.” If it weren’t for my unique identity, I would’ve slapped her across the face. Chloe’s words drew peals of laughter from the crowd. “See? I told you, your worth dictates the partner you can get. An inconspicuous man like Alex, with no background, is bound to lose his wife.” “Exactly! He’s dressed so simply, yet he dares to show his face here.” “When it comes to wealth and influence, Brandon is unmatched. He’s generous, and his family has serious connections.” Everyone around us fawned over Brandon, not a single person speaking up for me. In their eyes, I was just a clown for their amusement. These kinds of friends, this kind of reunion… it was better off not attending.

I ignored their snide remarks, ready to get up and leave. But before I could even stand, a hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Going somewhere? Did I say you could leave?” Brandon grinned at me, his eyes full of disdain. “Alex, today you have two choices: either take the money and divorce, or I’ll beat you until you divorce.” “Think it over carefully. Pick one.” Hearing Brandon’s words, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you sure you want me to choose?” Brandon hadn’t yet realized the mess he was making, still basking in his smug triumph. “Of course. As long as you agree to divorce your wife, I promise you a good life for the rest of your days.” I suppressed the fury bubbling inside me and spoke slowly: “I can divorce Chloe, and I don’t want the money, but…” I paused deliberately at that point. “You have to let me make a call first, because the divorce isn’t something I can decide alone.” Brandon roared with laughter when he heard me. “Alex, you really think you’re important, huh? I’m giving you a choice out of courtesy; I’m not negotiating with you.” “No matter who you call, you’re getting divorced today. Understood?” I heard the threat in his voice, but I didn’t care in the slightest. In fact, I found it somewhat amusing. “Didn’t I say? I agree to divorce Chloe.” “But this matter needs approval from those higher up. I can’t decide it myself.” Brandon’s face instantly darkened. He was about to get physical when Chloe held him back. “Darling, let’s be magnanimous. Don’t stoop to his level.” “Let him make his call. My heart’s already set on you anyway. What anyone else says doesn’t matter.” Chloe thought I was just looking for an excuse to keep her, and she looked smug. I was about to retort, but she continued: “Alex, don’t say I didn’t warn you. No matter who you call to persuade me, I am absolutely getting this divorce today.” I believed I had treated Chloe well during our marriage. Every month, I gave her my entire salary. She never worked, never did housework, spending her days shopping and playing cards. Even though we only saw each other once a year, she was still unsatisfied. At this very moment, my last shred of feeling for her vanished completely. “Chloe, don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t trying to persuade you. I just find it utterly disgusting.” “As for you and Brandon, I hope you won’t regret this after I make this call.” “When that time comes, no one will be able to save you.” I had wanted to appeal to our past friendship and talk some sense into her, but clearly, some people don’t appreciate it. Like Brandon, the rich kid beside her. “Alex, you’re still putting on airs in front of me? Who’s going to regret it more!” Brandon tried to continue, but I waved my hand, cutting him off. “Fine. Your words are enough.” With that, I pulled out my phone and dialed my boss’s number.

“Hello, Boss? It’s Alex.” On the other end, my boss’s voice was jovial. “Alex? Why are you calling me now?” “Boss, I have a situation to report.” I quickly explained how Brandon was forcing Chloe and me to divorce at the class reunion. The moment I finished, I heard the sound of a shattering glass on the other end. “Who has the audacity to force you into a divorce?!” Brandon snatched the phone from my hand. “Listen up, whoever you are! I don’t care what your relationship is with Alex. I want his wife, and no one can stop me.” “You’d better stay out of this, or you’ll be in trouble too!” My boss was stunned for a few seconds before speaking. “You’re forcing Alex to divorce?” Brandon, still unaware of who was on the line, remained utterly arrogant. “That’s right, it’s me.” “Across this entire city, there’s nothing Brandon wants that he can’t get.” “A single person? What’s that? I’ve set my sights on her, and who can stop me?” After speaking, he threw my phone to the ground and stomped on it several times. I’d never seen anyone so brazen. “Now that the call’s done, fulfill your promise.” Chloe linked her arm through Brandon’s, and with her other hand, she handed me a divorce agreement. “I’ve got all the paperwork ready. Sign it.” Looking at the stack of documents on the table confirmed my suspicions. Chloe had been cheating on me for a long time. Facing someone like this, I felt no mercy whatsoever. Without hesitation, I signed my name and handed it back to her. Chloe stared at me, surprised. “Alex, what does this mean?” I looked up at her, my voice cold. “What? Wasn’t it you who wanted a divorce from the start?” “Now I’ve granted your wish, signed the papers, and you’re blaming me?” “You should sign it quickly too, before Brandon decides he doesn’t want you either.” Chloe’s face flushed crimson from my retort. “Fine! I’ll sign it! As if anyone cares about you!” She immediately signed the divorce agreement. With that, our five-year marriage finally ended. Seeing her signature, I felt no regret, only a profound sense of relief. “I’ve signed it. She’s yours. Can I go now?” “Wait!” Brandon blocked my path, a sneer on his face. “Your business is done. Now it’s our turn.”

Hearing Brandon’s words, I narrowed my eyes. His face was growing increasingly ugly. “That snitch who got me expelled from school back then? That was you, wasn’t it?” “If it weren’t for you, my dad wouldn’t have sent me abroad, and Chloe wouldn’t have been forced to marry you.” “Alex, do you know, for three whole years abroad, I thought about nothing but getting revenge on that snitch, until Chloe told me the truth.” At this point, Brandon slammed his hand on the table. “Alex! I’ve waited for this day for a long time!” Even with Brandon’s furious outburst, a faint smile remained on my face. “You’re right. I reported you.” “But I don’t regret it. You were useless, constantly getting into fights, even breaking someone’s leg.” “People like you, I’ll report every single time I see them. No hesitation.” Brandon’s expression twisted into a snarl. “Good. I like that arrogance.” “Alex, do you know why I absolutely had to call you back here?” “This isn’t just a regular class reunion. I came for revenge.” Brandon suddenly snapped his fingers. A dozen burly men in black suits stormed into the private room. They looked well-trained. I leaned back in my chair, my fingers lightly tapping the table. “Brandon, this is your last chance. Think again.” “If you lay a hand on me today, the consequences will be more than you can handle.” “Even with all your family’s wealth, it won’t be enough…” The sycophants around us erupted in chatter. “Did you hear that? Alex actually said the Brandon family couldn’t cross him.” “That’s the funniest joke I’ve heard all my life! A nobody challenging Brandon!” “Who is Brandon? One of the city’s richest men. Dealing with him is easier than squashing an ant.” My former classmates quickly took sides, attacking me with their words. They scrambled to curry favor with Brandon. Chloe wasn’t to be outdone. “Alex, what are you shouting about? Look in the mirror and see what kind of pathetic person you are.” “Forget Brandon, anyone here could walk all over you.” I took a deep breath and slowly removed my wedding ring. “Chloe, from this moment on, we have no connection whatsoever.” “As for Brandon, he’s going to pay for his actions today.” Brandon scoffed. “You? You dare say you’ll make me pay?” “Here, I call the shots. Even if I beat you to death today, no one would dare arrest me.” Another roar of laughter filled the room. Looking at those once familiar faces, I felt utterly disappointed. This was their idea of friendship? Seeing my silence, Brandon assumed I was scared and grew even more arrogant. “Today, either get on your knees and apologize to the whole class, and we’ll forget the past.” “Or I’ll have your legs broken, and you’ll crawl out of here.” My gaze sharpened. “Brandon, you keep pushing my boundaries. Do you truly believe you’re invincible?” Brandon didn’t back down; instead, he became even more brazen. “Open your eyes and look at these men behind me. Any one of them could flatten you.” Just then, the private room door swung open. A burly man appeared before everyone. Brandon quickly straightened his collar, a fawning expression on his face as he rushed to greet him. “Marcus, Sir, what brings you here?” Hearing Brandon utter that name, everyone’s face changed drastically. Chloe even cowered in a corner. Only I remained in my seat, my fingers lightly tapping the table. Marcus’s gaze swept across the room, and everyone instantly fell silent. He spoke slowly: “Whose sleek black official sedan is parked out front?” At his words, everyone’s eyes turned to me.

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Every time Liam slept with his assistant, I’d scrawl a number in his diary. He’d ask what it meant, and I’d play it off with a sarcastic smile: “Each mark is a time you broke my heart. When it reaches a hundred, I’ll disappear.” Even when it reached ninety-nine, he didn’t take me seriously. At a hundred, I heard the rhythmic gasps echoing from his CEO office. “Sarah, let’s have a baby, okay?” My hand, poised to knock, fell uselessly to my side, the words crushing me. Back home, I ripped down all our wedding photos, a storm of resentment raging inside me. I grabbed a pen and angrily scrawled in the diary: “Liam, we’re over!” Suddenly, a line of text appeared beneath it: “Who are you? Why are you messing with my diary?” “And what does ‘100’ even mean?” Emotionally charged, I forgot all fear and replied: I’m Chloe. And it’s because you don’t love her. “This ‘100’ represents a hundred times I’ve been disappointed by you. I’m leaving you.” The words on the diary page jumped out, one by one. “You’re Chloe? You’re leaving me?” “No way! How could you be Chloe? She’s standing right next to me now!” “Who are you, really? Why can you appear in my diary?” Three questions popped up one after another, startling me so much I dropped the diary. It took me a full two minutes to calm down. I picked it up, then wrote back: “I am Chloe, a thirty-year-old Chloe.” “And I know you’re seventeen-year-old Liam.” “The future you will betray me. So, seventeen-year-old you, don’t come near me either.” The diary went silent. This magical notebook was something I’d found in the attic a few days ago, while packing my bags. My thirty-year-old husband had been drunk, yelling Sarah’s name for the thousandth time, spewing regrets about marrying me. He claimed if he’d married Sarah back then, he might have had his own child. When I opened the diary, though, I saw pages filled with seventeen-year-old Liam’s affection and unwavering devotion to me. Growing up, thanks to my looks, I always had plenty of guys chasing me. But my parents divorced early, so I never held out hope for love. I’d reject every guy who confessed, “Sorry, I just want to focus on my studies. I’m not interested in dating.” Until I met Liam. Unlike the others, he pursued me relentlessly from middle school all the way through college. Each time I rejected him, he only grew more determined. He even entered dangerous underground car races just to win me a limited-edition watch I liked. Seeing him nearly lose his life was what finally made my heart stir. And when I realized this notebook updated in real-time, I knew it was communicating with thirteen years ago. But then I remembered: two months ago, when I went to see him, I heard the sounds of him and his new assistant getting intimate on the couch in his CEO office. And that assistant was Sarah, our high school classmate, his former next-door neighbor, and childhood friend. In that moment, all our beautiful memories shattered, reduced to cruel reality, a mere illusion. From then on, I stopped communicating with the teenage boy on the other end of the diary. Because I knew, no matter how passionate the love recorded in that diary, it would ultimately lead to betrayal. Just as I was bitterly printing out the divorce papers I’d already prepared, signing my name with a steady hand, ready to follow through on my earlier promise—that if he betrayed me, I’d disappear from his world forever. A harsh tearing sound ripped across the diary page. “No way, I love her!” The pen tip, carrying the boy’s sincere feelings, carved each stroke into the paper, “I’ve liked Chloe for six whole years, how could I betray her?” “You’re lying to me, you can’t be Chloe! Who are you?” “Tell me, are you Sarah?!” Through the diary, I could almost see seventeen-year-old Liam, his face a mix of anger and stubbornness, uttering vows he would inevitably break. Back then, his love was pure and firm. He couldn’t possibly have imagined that thirty-year-old him would become so cruel and heartless. I picked up the pen to reply, but the front door suddenly swung open. The gust of wind flipped the diary page. I calmly closed the diary. Thirty-year-old Liam walked in and started rummaging through cabinets. He used to excitedly leap into my arms every time he came home, nuzzling me like a big, happy puppy. Sometimes I’d push him away, tickled, but he’d only press closer, his bright eyes whispering sweet nothings that made my cheeks flush. Now, his gaze didn’t even linger on me for half a second. After nearly ten minutes of searching, Liam still hadn’t found what he wanted. He finally turned to me, his face filled with irritation. “Chloe, have you seen the heirloom brooch my mom left me?” “Sarah’s pregnant, I need to find the brooch and give it to her. I want it to bless our family of three.” Family of three?! My heart gave a sudden, painful lurch. On our wedding day, he’d personally placed that heirloom brooch into my hand in front of all our guests, asking me to keep it safe. Liam’s brother, Owen, had been clearly displeased. “Brother, Mom’s brooch is meant to be passed down to the mother of your child. Everyone knows Chloe can’t… why would you give it to her?” Thirteen years ago, an accident had left me injured, permanently unable to have children. No one had ever dared to mention it in front of Liam, but on our wedding day, his own brother had pointed it out in public. The atmosphere instantly became excruciatingly awkward. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on me, whispers erupting. I turned my face away in shame, but Liam only held my arm tighter, giving his brother a cold glare before announcing to everyone: “Even if Chloe can’t have children, only she deserves to keep this brooch. She is my only wife, Liam’s wife.” In that moment, I’d thought I’d made the right gamble. For five years of marriage, I had carefully guarded it. But now, I gave a bitter laugh, pulling out the drawer and retrieving the velvet jewelry box. Liam snatched it from me, a wide, delighted grin spreading across his face: “Found it at last! After the baby’s born, I’ll have Sarah put it on them herself.” Only then did he bother to look at me, his eyes filled with undisguised coldness. “My mom said this heirloom only works if the mother of the child puts it on them. Now that Sarah’s carrying my child, the brooch should be with her.” “I’m taking Sarah for a check-up tonight, so I’m heading out. Our anniversary… we can talk about it when I get back.” At the door, he paused, a hint of condescension in his gaze as he glanced at me. “Don’t worry, even if Sarah and I have a child, you’ll legally always be my wife. That won’t change.” His usual game: a slap, then a sugar cube. It had been his go-to move for years. Watching him leave happily, I managed a bitter smile. He called me his wife, yet let another woman carry his child. I opened the diary again. Another line of text had appeared: “Because I waited for your reply, I wasted time and couldn’t get the spot in front of her.” I immediately grabbed our graduation photo. My blood ran cold when I saw it: 17-year-old Liam’s position had shifted. My breath hitched, and my hands started to tremble uncontrollably. Could the Liam on the other end of this diary actually change the future?

Before I could even process it, another line of text quickly appeared in the diary: “If you really are Chloe, then tell me, where did I stand in the graduation photo?” I instantly replied: “You stood to Sarah’s left front.” The diary went silent again. After waiting a minute with no reply, I picked up the pen and, with forceful strokes, wrote: “Liam, please leave my life.” “Why? If you’re really Chloe, don’t you know I like you?” He pressed so hard on that last question mark, the paper almost tore. “Like? Because of your ‘like,’ the day after the graduation photo, I was attacked by people Sarah sent and permanently lost my ability to have children!!” “And thirty-year-old you let her carry your child.” Every word I wrote brought the memories flooding back, clearer than ever. I had tried everything to forget, but countless nights, that agonizing memory would jar me awake, making sleep impossible. It had become my inescapable nightmare. Thirteen years ago, Sarah had begged Liam to stand by her for the photo, but he’d refused. Liam had stood firmly behind me, saying he’d stand with me not just then, but for our wedding photos in the future too. His burning declaration of love had made my ears flush. But a furious Sarah had found a dozen people the next day to ambush me in an alley. Liam, rushing to the scene, had gone pale with terror when he saw my injuries. He’d carried me, who was heavier than him, stumbling frantically towards the hospital like a madman. He’d given a lot of blood to save me. Although I survived, I was severely injured, permanently losing the chance to become a mother. Liam had cried, holding me, tears streaming down his face. He’d sworn a solemn oath that he would marry no one but me, and never let me suffer another ounce of harm. But I never imagined that now, he would cheat on me with Sarah, the very person who had caused me so much harm, and even let her carry his child. “Liam, promise me, if you love me, just leave my life.” “The further away the better! Can you?” “Please, I’m begging you!” Still no reply. I slumped onto the couch with the diary, drifting off to sleep without realizing it. In my dream, I saw seventeen-year-old Liam, running desperately through a dark alley. His face was panicked and anxious. A gust of wind blew a flower pot off the balcony, startling me awake. The night was already deep. Thirty-year-old Liam hadn’t come home all night, not a single call, not even a text. But Sarah’s Ins stories were updated every ten minutes, a full thirty posts. The first one showed Liam pinning the heirloom brooch to her lapel. The second was Liam and her looking through baby name books together. The third showed him pressing his ear to her belly, a look of pure joy on his face as he listened to the baby move. … Each post was flooded with likes and blessings from their friends. “Congrats, Mr. Miller! Finally going to be a dad!” “I told you Mr. Miller wouldn’t stick with Chloe. You guys didn’t believe me.” “How could Chloe be worthy of Mr. Miller? Sarah and Mr. Miller are the perfect match, made for each other.” Liam had liked every single post. Perhaps, deep down, he truly believed it. I closed Ins, then lay back on the couch, feeling lightheaded and drowsy. In my dream, seventeen-year-old Liam finally emerged from the alley. What met his eyes was me, pinned to the ground by several people, and seventeen-year-old Sarah, lunging at me with a knife. “Chloe!” The next second, Liam’s eyes turned red, and he charged forward like a madman. He grabbed a rock from the roadside with all his might and hurled it at the leader. The others swarmed him, hitting him repeatedly. Liam ignored them, clutching the blood-stained rock, using his last ounce of strength to beat back the leader. He screamed at the others, his face contorted in a snarl. “Come on, if you’re not afraid to die!” His reckless fury stunned them, and they fled in disarray. Only when their figures completely vanished from the alley did Liam collapse in front of me, trembling uncontrollably. When our eyes met, he smiled proudly, “Chloe, I told you I’d risk my life for you. Now you believe me, right?” “Liam! I don’t need you!” “Leave me!” I screamed his name, jolting awake, tears streaming down my face. Looking in the mirror, I saw the bulging veins and goosebumps on my skin. I couldn’t tell if it was fear or cold. I looked down at the diary in my arms, my mind a blur, unable to distinguish between dream and memory. Pulling up my shirt, my body suddenly froze. I frantically touched my lower abdomen.

The scar that had been with me for thirteen years was gone. Tears welled up and spilled over. I opened the diary again. Another line of text had appeared, but this time it was shaky and uneven, as if written by someone weak and exhausted. “Chloe, I protected you.” Once my emotions stabilized, I calmly wrote back: “That’s what you were supposed to do.” If not for his love. If not for the love he would inevitably betray. Why would Sarah have targeted me, causing me to lose the ability to bear life as a woman? And thirty-year-old him, now with a child by the very person who harmed me, had wounded me again. The words on the diary appeared haltingly, the strokes unclear, as if writing was a struggle. “Chloe, I’ll do anything for you. Tell me, what else can I do?” Only after seventeen-year-old Liam finished writing the last question mark did I reply: “I already told you, leave my life.” “Disappear completely from my sight. Don’t let your love now become the weapon that harms me in the future.” There was a time when everyone secretly talked about me, but Liam was there, holding my hand firmly, gently mending my broken heart. It was his love that made me fearless against all gossip and strange looks. So when he let go of my hand, and even joined those who criticized me, I was instantly pushed to the brink, even contemplating ending my life. Being hurt by the one you love, it turned out, was a thousand, ten thousand times more painful than any physical disability. You could say, the more he loved me before, the greater the pain he inflicted later. This heart of mine, already shattered by him, refused to beat again. The sound of forceful writing suddenly came through. Each word was pressed so hard, it almost tore through the page. “That’s impossible!” “Chloe, do you know? Every break time, you loved to draw by the window on the third floor of the art building. I’d deliberately take the long way around every day, just to catch a glimpse of you. Just seeing you made me so happy.” “Once, you hurt your hand while drawing. When I heard, I was frantic. I skipped class for the first time to buy you medicine, just so you wouldn’t hurt for one second longer…” “And also…” I cut him off, “I know, I know all of it.” “And another time… I slipped in the bathroom and twisted my ankle. It was you who, blushing, slipped the medicine under the door.” The diary paused for ten seconds before replying: “You know all that? How could you know?” “If you know all that, then why do you say I’ll betray you?” There was one thing he didn’t write, but I knew for sure: he was murmuring to himself, I love you so much, how could I betray you? I could imagine seventeen-year-old Liam’s face now, filled with shock and confusion. “I know these things because the future you told me. You told me everything, piece by piece, and said you regretted doing them.” Liam had said that he should have listened back then, not married a woman who couldn’t give him a “complete family.” He said it led to him suffering years of criticism for nothing. He’d also said he shouldn’t have bothered saving me back then, implying that now I was not only ungrateful but also demanding too much. He always boasted about his “sacrifices,” then did whatever he pleased in our marriage, until now, having a child with someone else. Tears dripped onto the diary, blurring the writing. Fearing I might ruin the diary and prevent changing the past, I hurriedly wiped it away. But I pressed too hard, tearing the page in half. In my panic, I suddenly found myself in a hospital room. In front of me, a seventeen-year-old boy, his abdomen wrapped in thick bandages. His face was pale, his brows furrowed in pain. Seventeen-year-old Liam, one hand clutching the blood-stained bandage, the other struggling to write, was muttering to himself. “Chloe, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you until I make you my wife…” His serious and determined expression made him look like he was undertaking something profoundly important. Just as he finished writing that, the seventeen-year-old Liam seemed to sense something. His hand suddenly stopped. He looked up, and in that instant, his clear, star-like eyes, which had long vanished from my memory, reappeared before me. His slightly dry lips parted. Before he could speak, a shrill phone ring suddenly cut through the air. Looking around, my home was a mess. All thanks to thirty-year-old Liam. The phone ring was piercing. It was thirty-year-old Liam calling, his voice commanding: “Come to the coffee shop downstairs from the office immediately. Sarah and I have something important to tell you in person.” At the same time, several lines of text appeared in the diary. “Please believe me, okay? I would never do that.” “I love you, love you so much that even if you wanted my life, you could have it.” The boy’s adoration was as pure and flawless as fresh snow. He truly believed his vows would become the most beautiful flowers, never to wither as long as he stayed by his beloved’s side. I gripped the pen tightly, my eyes downcast. Fine. If you don’t believe me, then I’ll let thirty-year-old you tell you yourself.

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The student I’d sponsored for three years wanted a summer job, so I casually arranged for her to work at my husband’s company. A few months later, she burst into my office, heavily pregnant, tears streaming down her face as she confronted me: “I always knew you didn’t have good intentions when you sponsored me!” “Now I’m carrying Julian’s baby, and he’s suddenly vanished. Are you hiding him?” Her brother, looking absolutely furious, pointed a finger in my face and yelled: “If it weren’t for your fake kindness, how would my sister have met such a scumbag?” “He knocked her up and thinks he can just ditch her? No way!” “Either pay up, or you get a divorce and she becomes Mrs. Vance. Your call!” The news spread like wildfire, and the online comments were brutal. Everyone called me a pimp, saying I used the guise of charity to find a mistress for my husband. But I just smiled. If she actually managed to get pregnant with my husband’s child, I’d have to patent that. I was grading papers when an enraged man slammed open my office door. “Where’s your husband?! Are you hiding him?” “He got my sister pregnant and thinks he can just walk away? Dream on!” Lily Foster stood behind him, clutching her stomach, her eyes red-rimmed. A girl live-streaming on her phone was with them. I frowned. “Lily, what are you doing here?” Lily’s voice was choked with tears. “Ms. Miller, I’m desperate. Julian has gone completely radio silent, I can’t find him…” “And I have a delicate condition; the doctor said a termination would be too risky…” I leaned back in my chair, watching her calmly. “So? What kind of ‘explanation’ are you looking for today?” Derek Foster sneered. “Two options! Either Julian marries my sister, or you pay! My sister is a Harvard graduate, and your animal of a husband ruined her whole life!” The girl holding the phone immediately chimed in. “And this is Ms. Miller, a supposed educator! Using the pretense of sponsoring a struggling student to pimp her out to her own husband! Lily is so pathetic; she finally managed to escape her impoverished background through sheer academic talent, only to fall into an even worse trap!” The live chat exploded: ‘Seriously? This teacher looks so prim and proper, can’t believe she’s such a monster!’ ‘Right? The girl looks barely out of her teens, her life is over!’ A crowd of curious students had gathered at the office door, their chatter growing louder. I stood up, walked to the water cooler, poured myself a cup of water, and took a sip. “Are you done talking?” Derek was furious. “What’s with your attitude?! My sister is carrying your husband’s child!” “Impossible,” I tossed the paper cup into the trash. “The child in her belly is absolutely not my husband’s.” Lily’s eyes immediately reddened again. “Ms. Miller, I know this is hard for you to accept, but it’s true! That night, Julian got me drunk, and when I woke up… he said he truly liked me…” “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “Julian told you himself that he liked you?” Lily nodded vigorously, pulling a stack of photos from her bag. “These are the proof, Ms. Miller, may God strike me down if I’m lying!” I glanced at the photos. The angles were strategic, but you could clearly see Julian’s profile and Lily snuggled up beside him. The hotel security footage screenshot was clear, showing a specific night three months ago. “The photos are real,” I said. Derek immediately looked triumphant. “Admit it, then! I told you…” “But the child isn’t my husband’s,” I cut him off. “Lily, you and your people leave now, and I’ll pretend today never happened. If you continue to cause a scene, I’m calling the police.”

The girl who was live-streaming immediately shrieked, “We’re the ones who should be calling the police! Ms. Miller, your husband forced a college student and got her pregnant, and you’re an accomplice!” The live chat absolutely blew up: ‘Is this teacher crazy? Caught red-handed and still denying it!’ ‘Where are the school administrators? Why is someone like this still teaching?’ ‘Lily, don’t be scared, tens of thousands of us netizens have your back!’ Several female students watching from the doorway already had tears in their eyes. “Lily is so pathetic! To be handed over to an old man by the teacher she trusted most!” “Seriously, people like her don’t deserve to be teachers!” Lily clutched her stomach, crying so hard she could barely stand. A wave of bitterness washed over me. Three years ago, I was traveling in a remote fishing village. I found Lily’s parents trying to marry her off to a fifty-something bachelor right before her college entrance exams, desperate to secure funds for the family. She knelt on the ground, clinging to me, begging, “Teacher, I want to study, please help me…” My heart softened. I not only stopped the forced marriage on the spot but also promised to help her through college. She was incredibly bright, getting into Harvard. The day she got her acceptance letter, she called me, crying, “Ms. Miller, I’ll study hard and repay you someday.” I felt so proud then. This summer, she said she wanted to earn her own living expenses. After some thought, I arranged a summer job for her at my husband’s company. I thought I was helping her. Now it seems I was digging my own grave! Seeing my silence, Lily looked up, biting her lip. “Ms. Miller, I know you and Julian have a strong relationship, but my baby is innocent…” Derek immediately interrupted, “Lily, you’re just too soft-hearted! Even if that scumbag is willing to divorce this old woman and marry you, you still need to demand a million in emotional damages!” I smiled, raising an eyebrow. “A million? Lily, you honestly think you’re worth that much?” The surrounding students gasped. “Is this teacher even human? That’s disgusting!” “Seriously! How vicious! I hope her own daughter gets treated like this someday!” “People like her shouldn’t even have kids!” Lily’s face went white, and she almost stumbled. The girl live-streaming quickly steadied her, crying into the camera, “Everyone saw that! This woman doesn’t even treat Lily like a human being!” Derek exploded in rage, grabbing the water cup from my desk, ready to smash it. I looked at him coldly. “Try it. Intentional damage to property, disturbing the peace, that’ll get you a few nights in lockup.” His hand froze mid-air. “And you,” I swept my gaze over the girl live-streaming. “Broadcasting in an office without permission, invading personal privacy. Do you want me to call security right now and get you a major disciplinary record?” The girl’s face changed. Seeing this, Lily cried even harder. “Ms. Miller, how can you be like this? I came to you because I had nowhere else to go. If Julian would just take responsibility, I wouldn’t have bothered you…” “Responsibility?” I stood up. “Responsibility for what? For something that never happened?” I walked up to her, staring into her eyes. “Lily, put your hand on your heart and tell me, is the child in your belly truly Julian’s?” Her eyes flickered for a split second, then became resolute. “Of course, it’s his!” “Really?” I smiled. “Then tell me, that night, what color underwear was Julian wearing?”

The office fell into a sudden silence. The live chat froze for a moment. Lily froze, her mouth agape, unable to utter a sound for a long time. “What? Don’t remember?” I pressed. “Or rather, you never even saw?” “I was drunk then…” she stammered. “Drunk, but you remember him forcing you?” I continued to question. “Drunk, but you’re certain the child is his?” Derek exploded. “Elara! Don’t you dare try to change the subject! The evidence is right here, and you’re still trying to argue?” “A few blurry photos are enough to convict someone?” I sneered. “So, can I just take a few random photos of you with another woman and accuse you of assault?” “You!” “And,” I cut him off, “how did you get the hotel security footage? Do hotels just hand out surveillance to strangers?” Derek was speechless. Lily quickly explained, “My roommate knows someone who helped me…” “Oh?” I looked at her roommate. “Does your family own a hotel? Or do you know the hotel owner?” The girl stammered, “My cousin works there…” “What a coincidence?” I smiled. “Your cousin just happens to work at the exact hotel where Julian supposedly forced Lily? Just happens to be able to get the footage? Just happens to be willing to risk breaking the law to give you screenshots of the surveillance?” The mood in the live chat began to shift: ‘That actually makes sense…’ ‘Yeah, you can’t just get hotel footage, right?’ ‘Exactly, if it was really assault, why didn’t they call the police immediately?’ Just then, Lily suddenly clutched her stomach and crouched down. “My stomach hurts so bad…” “Lily!” her roommate exclaimed. “This is too much! This old woman is definitely trying to provoke you on purpose! She’s jealous you’re having her husband’s baby!” Derek also pointed a finger in my face, shouting, “Elara! If anything happens to my sister or the baby, I’m coming after you!” I watched their performance with cold eyes. “Do you need me to call 911 for you?” Lily was curled up on the floor, tears streaming down her face. “Ms. Miller, why are you pressuring me like this? I just want justice…” “Justice?” I scoffed, finding it incredibly ironic. “Lily, that’s what you said when you knelt in the mud begging me for sponsorship. You said you wanted to study, you wanted a just life.” “Now I’ve given you an education, given you a chance to change your destiny, and this is how you repay me?” Her eyes darted away, afraid to look at me. “Miller! Don’t you dare try to emotionally manipulate us!” Derek roared. “So what if you sponsored her? Does that give your husband the right to abuse my sister?” I stood up. “Alright, I’ll say this one last time. First, Julian would never force anyone. Second, the child in your belly is absolutely not his!” “Third, if you continue to cause a scene here, I will immediately call the police. Charges of defamation and false accusation are not minor.” The office fell silent. The live chat comments scrolled wildly: ‘This teacher is so fierce! Her logic is super clear!’ ‘Yeah, she sounds incredibly confident!’ ‘Could there be a hidden truth to this? Maybe it’s a scam?’ Just then, Dean Peterson squeezed through the crowd and rushed in. “What’s going on?!” Derek latched onto him like a lifeline. “Dean Peterson, perfect timing! This Elara, her husband assaulted my sister, she’s over four months pregnant now, and they’re denying everything and even accusing my sister of extortion!”

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My boyfriend has a one-of-a-kind talent. He can craft dolls that look exactly like real people. A five-foot-three doll, dressed in an exquisite gown, With flawless makeup, incredibly beautiful. Displayed in a glittering glass case, it shimmered. I leaned in closer and realized it looked like a real person… Do you know how those dolls in fancy dresses at the exhibition are made? They’re not plastic. They’re made from the bodies of young girls. And I own one of these lifelike dolls. Later, I saw many more in my boyfriend’s exhibition hall. One day, while we were intimate, my boyfriend eagerly showed me how he created these “Barbie dolls.” As I was completely lost in pleasure, my boyfriend pulled a ribbon he’d carefully prepared from the nightstand. Slowly, he wrapped it around my neck, his fingers tightening, tightening, and tightening again… Watching me gasp at the brink of death, he spoke, his voice trembling with excitement. “Chloe, you’ve always been curious about how I make my dolls so perfect, haven’t you? Well, I’ll tell you now!” “This is how it’s done—they die in ecstasy.” “That mix of excitement and pain stays etched on their faces forever.” “That’s how you make the most captivating dolls.” “To set them, you have to work while their bodies are still soft.” “You pour glue over their entire skin,” “Then meticulously apply the simulated skin, piece by piece.” “Add delicate makeup,” “Dress them in luxurious gowns and display them in glass cases.” “That way, countless people can truly appreciate their beauty.” “But my Chloe, you’re naturally stunning,” “The most exquisite girl I’ve seen in years.” “You’ll be my most perfect masterpiece…” My boyfriend recounted this, his face alight with excitement as he watched my face slowly turn pale.

My boyfriend, Julian, was a toy restorer. Thirty years old this year, his hands were incredibly skilled. No matter how severely damaged a doll was, Julian could fix it quickly. Julian and I connected over dolls… I’ve been a loyal Barbie fan since childhood, obsessed with collecting princess Barbies. Especially on my twenty-third birthday, I unexpectedly received a very unique doll. Her touch felt just like real skin, incredibly pleasant. I paid a hefty price to get her, Taking meticulous care of her every day, afraid of even a scratch. But an accident still happened! My little niece, Lily, snuck into my room and knocked over my Barbie. My doll’s edges chipped in several places. Frustrated, I had no choice but to ask around for someone to fix her. Seeing me gloomy all the time, my good friend Stella recommended a toy restorer, Julian. “Chloe, I’m telling you, he’s amazing! All his customers rave about him.” “Seriously, just try him. You’ll be satisfied.” “We’ll see,” I replied dismissively. But I didn’t take Stella’s words seriously at all. After several renowned restorers examined my doll and shook their heads helplessly, I finally decided to follow Stella’s advice and visit the restorer she recommended. That was the first time I met Julian. He truly stunned me at first sight. Delicate gold-rimmed glasses, fair skin, long, slender fingers – he looked like a refined young gentleman. “Can he really do it? He doesn’t look like he can!” Stella subtly nudged me with her elbow, signaling me to keep my voice down. Just as I looked up, I saw Julian staring directly at me, his gaze eerie and sending shivers down my spine. My scalp tightened, and I could only manage an awkward smile, ducking behind my best friend. “Hello, can I help you?” Julian asked. Seeing me hesitate, Stella spoke up and started chatting with him. “Hello, my friend’s Barbie broke, and she was wondering if you could fix it.” After Julian confirmed he could, I left the Barbie at his studio. When I went to pick up my Barbie princess that weekend, I was utterly shocked. I couldn’t believe Julian’s skill was truly incredible. All the chipped edges were perfectly repaired. Even tiny scratches were gone. I was amazed, showering him with praise, thinking Stella really hadn’t lied. Julian seemed a bit shy; he just gave me a bashful smile at my compliments and didn’t say anything more. But when I got home, I noticed something: my doll seemed… strange. Her skin felt just like human skin. I asked Julian about it, and he said it was his special technique, a method he used specifically to earn money! Seeing my intense interest, he invited me to his exhibition that weekend. But I never imagined that this outing would lead me to discover something truly astonishing…

After Julian’s invitation, I decided to visit his place. Julian asked for my address and drove to my house to pick me up. He was so enthusiastic, I agreed. Julian drove me to a run-down part of town, tucked away in a corner on the west side. Looking at the dilapidated houses, I felt a pang of regret. It seemed so remote. And Julian and I had only met once. A hint of fear began to creep in. But when I stepped inside the exhibition hall, I dismissed my fears. It was absolutely worth the trip! Julian led me into his doll exhibition, and my jaw nearly dropped. The small room was filled with exquisitely dressed, life-sized dolls. They were displayed in glass cases along both walls, looking just like real people. I couldn’t resist reaching out to touch one. The sensation was exactly like real human skin. I couldn’t help but exclaim. “This is incredible! It’s exactly like a real person. I’ve never felt anything so lifelike. What material is this made of?” Seeing my shocked expression, Julian smiled mysteriously, then leaned close to my ear and whispered. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? It’s made from human skin! Hehehe, it’s fresh skin I peeled off women!” Warm, moist air sprayed onto my ear, combined with Julian’s somewhat serious face, immediately gave me goosebumps all over. Seeing that I was genuinely startled, Julian burst into laughter. “Didn’t scare you, did I? This is simulated skin I imported from Japan. I was just teasing you.” Oh, so that was it. I really had been scared. I let out a long sigh of relief. I meticulously admired every doll in the hall. Each one was truly unique. Different ages, varying eye colors, distinct skin textures… Just like categories of people: innocent college girls, sultry young women, sophisticated housewives. Everything imaginable was there, satisfying every aesthetic preference. But I was particularly drawn to a doll in a corner glass case. She was different from all the others. Not only did her skin look human, but her expression of sorrow was also incredibly lifelike. A vividly realistic look, her eyes brimming with unshed tears—it was simply captivating. The most astonishing thing was the continuous stream of tears flowing from her eyes, as if a real woman were suffering some intense pain…

Seeing my interest, Julian offered to give me one of the dolls he had made. “Pick one. It’s rare to find someone with the same passion as me! Let’s be friends.” I was overjoyed. So, I hesitantly pointed to the “lifelike” crying doll. Julian chuckled, teasingly. “You certainly don’t hold back, picking the most ‘spirited’ one in our shop.” I thought he wouldn’t part with it, but to my surprise, he readily gave me the doll. Seeing my incredulous expression, Julian’s voice, full of amusement, reached my ears again. “It’s rare to find someone with shared interests. It’s just a doll, no big deal. Besides, I’ll have an even better one soon.” He said this while looking at me, as if he was calculating something. That evening, he even personally delivered the doll to my home. But on the very first night the doll was in my house, I noticed something wasn’t right. I kept feeling an unseen gaze constantly following me, as if my every move was being monitored. But I live alone. If I had to pinpoint it, the only other presence would be the doll displayed in the living room cabinet. Half-asleep in the middle of the night, I suddenly heard a woman’s voice coming from above me. “Take me home! It’s so cold…” The female voice kept repeating. I got out of bed, but I searched every corner of the house and found nothing amiss. “Ahhh! Help me, no, no…” The woman’s voice suddenly reappeared. Goosebumps erupted all over my body, and drops of sweat trickled down my forehead. I fumbled in the dark, following the woman’s voice, And unknowingly, I walked into a room with mirrors on all four sides. The mirror in front of me showed a man and a woman entangled in a struggle. The man was thrusting vigorously over the woman, heavy gasps continuously escaping his lips. Throughout the silent room, the woman’s moans — a mix of pleasure and pain — echoed. It made me blush intensely, wishing I could leave immediately. Just then, the scene shifted. The man suddenly pulled out a black ribbon and wrapped it around the woman’s neck. Slowly tightening it, the woman whimpered and struggled, but it was useless. I wanted to warn the woman, but I found I couldn’t make a sound. I watched, wide-eyed, as the man tightened his grip, and the woman gradually stopped moving. At that moment, a terrifying scene unfolded. The man suddenly turned his head, grinning at me. Recognizing his face, I gasped, covering my mouth in shock, but still couldn’t stop myself from screaming. “Ah!” I couldn’t control my scream. Then I realized it was just a dream. I gasped for air, my heart still pounding. The dream felt so real, as if it had actually happened. I put on my shoes and got out of bed, ready to get some water. But when I looked up, I saw the crying doll standing right beside my bed. Her eyes stared directly at me, looking both terrifying and eerie. And around her neck hung a black ribbon… But how could she be here? I distinctly remembered placing her in the glass case in the living room… After a moment of thought, I shook my head, dismissing the impractical ideas from my mind. Maybe I’d just intended to put the doll in the living room display, but hadn’t actually moved it. I certainly had a history of doing silly things like that!

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Lately, my social media feed has been flooded with breast cancer awareness videos. Maybe it was just in my head, but I actually started feeling a faint ache in my chest. Being the cautious person I am, and to nip any potential issues in the bud, I immediately booked an appointment with a breast specialist. I chose the most expensive top specialist, with a $75 consultation fee. I figured the higher the fee, the more reputable the doctor. But when I arrived at the hospital, I found out it was a male doctor… At 8 AM, the breast clinic at Metropolitan General Hospital was packed. Other exam rooms had just a few stragglers, but outside my doctor’s door, a massive queue had formed. It seemed people’s disposable income had really increased. So many were willing to pay $75 for a consultation, and most of them were young women. These women were incredibly cheerful, looking less like patients and more like fans at a meet-and-greet. The women coming out of the exam room were strange too; their faces were flushed with an odd, rosy glow, like ripe peaches. What was going on? Was this some new medical procedure I didn’t know about? “I’ve been refreshing the hospital app since midnight. Persistence pays off—I finally got an appointment with Dr. Julian!” “My sister highly recommended him. She said Dr. Julian’s technique is amazing; after he examines you, you feel like you’re floating on air. I wonder if it’s true…” “It’s true. You’ll see once you try it. Besides, looking at Dr. Julian’s handsome face, even the worst symptoms just fade away.” … I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the loud chatter of the two women ahead of me was impossible to ignore. So… Dr. Julian was a man? When I booked, I only paid attention to which doctor was most expensive; I didn’t check the details page. Seriously! I was here for a medical check-up, not to gawk at some guy. What were these women even thinking? And having a male stranger examine my chest felt incredibly awkward! I decided to sneak out and cancel the appointment before my name was called. But before I could leave, the exam room’s electronic prompt chimed. “Chloe Thompson, please come in.” Well, there went my $75 down the drain. Nervously, I knocked and entered. Inside, a man in a white coat sat behind a desk. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and was looking down, writing something. From my angle, I couldn’t clearly see his face. But his hair was thick and dark, and I couldn’t help but think he probably wasn’t a very skilled doctor. “Excuse me, Dr. Julian, I think I booked the wrong appointment. Would it be possible for you to—” “What?” He frowned, looking up and cutting me off. A striking, handsome face met my gaze. In that instant, my heart pounded, and I held my breath. Do you believe in love at first sight?

The words I’d prepared vanished the moment he looked up. I shook my head, dumbfounded. Wrong appointment? No, this was my fate! Dr. Julian asked me some routine questions, which I answered honestly. “Do you have a boyfriend?” “No.” His usually serious and professional expression seemed to soften when he heard my answer. At twenty-seven, this was the first time a man had spoken such direct words to me—especially one as handsome as him, exactly my type. “A-all of it?” I stammered, a blush creeping up my neck. “Including my bra?” “Yes.” I’d never been to a breast specialist before, so I didn’t know if this was normal. But his words sent a shiver through me, making my heart race and my hands tremble slightly. In front of him, I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, one button at a time, revealing the smooth, pale skin underneath. “Keep going.” Dr. Julian’s voice was low and calm, but his intense gaze never left my body. Maybe I was too nervous, but the bra that usually came off easily now seemed stuck. The atmosphere grew awkward. Dr. Julian crossed his arms, wearing an expression that seemed to say, “I’ve seen this before.” I gave up struggling and turned my back to him. “The clasp in the back seems stuck, and I can’t reach it. Dr. Julian, could you help me?” There was a brief silence in the exam room. Then, a pair of hands touched my back—cool, steady hands that quickly found the clasp. The familiar tightening, then loosening. I knew the clasp of my bra had been undone. I expected Dr. Julian to step back politely, but instead, he gently pulled me closer and slipped the bra off! “Ah!” His movements were so quick, I gasped and instinctively covered myself. “How am I supposed to examine you like that? Put your hands down and lie on the exam table.” Dr. Julian’s tone was completely professional, as casual as if he were discussing the weather. The more nonchalant he was, the more I felt like I was overreacting—completely missing the faint smirk on Julian’s lips.

I lay on the exam table, my hands nervously fidgeting with my skirt. The exam room was dimly lit, and I stared at the ceiling, my heart racing. The soft thud of footsteps grew closer, and I squeezed my eyes shut, too embarrassed to look at Dr. Julian. When you can’t see, your senses of touch and hearing become incredibly sharp. I heard a rustling sound beside me, then a pair of hands gently cupped my breast. I could feel his fingers—long, skilled, with a slight coolness that was surprisingly reassuring. Dr. Julian suddenly pressed down firmly, catching me off guard, and I winced in pain. “Ah—” “Don’t move. This could be hyperplasia. Let me check again.” His voice was colder than his touch. I immediately tensed up, not daring to move. I wondered if I was imagining things, but it felt like Julian was deliberately teasing me. His fingers seemed to dance across my skin—sometimes light, sometimes firm—sending shivers down my spine. The sensation was so intense that I had to bite my lip to keep from making any embarrassing sounds. I endured it, torn between discomfort and something else, just wanting the exam to end. Just when I thought I was about to give up entirely, Julian’s hands stilled. I opened my eyes and saw him backlit, slowly wiping his hands with an alcohol wipe. “Dr. Julian, is that all?” Julian paused, then leaned in suddenly, his voice low and teasing: “Are you saying you want me to continue?” His hot breath on my neck sent a shiver down my spine. I shook my head frantically, pushing him away and scrambling behind the privacy screen. He had such a handsome face, but why did he keep saying such suggestive things? “Dr. Julian, what’s my diagnosis? Is it serious?” Julian was typing on his computer. Without looking up, he said, “The exam seems fine. Go get an X-ray, then come back.” “Let’s exchange SnapChat IDs,” he called as I stood to leave. “It’s my personal account. You can message me directly if you have questions.” Julian’s SnapChat profile picture was a knitted flower, which didn’t quite match his image—it was actually kind of cute. The flower felt oddly familiar, but before I could think about it, the next patient knocked and entered, so I had to say goodbye to Dr. Julian. While waiting for the X-ray results, I received a call from my landlady, Mrs. Hayes. The moment I answered, her uncontrollable sobs filled my ear: “Chloe, dear, where are you? Can we meet up now?” Mrs. Hayes was a sophisticated middle-aged woman, always composed and rarely showing vulnerability. Seeing her like this, I didn’t even wait for my results. I quickly left the hospital and rushed to meet her. But I never expected to find my belongings scattered all over the hallway when I got home. The front door was wide open, and inside, people were roughly throwing my things out. My blood pressure spiked. My vision blurred, and I almost fainted on the spot. What was going on? Had my home been ransacked by robbers?

The men moving furniture inside were all burly and strong; there was no way I, a small woman, could confront them alone. Just as I pulled out my phone to call the police, Mrs. Hayes emerged from the elevator. “Oh, Chloe…” The tear stains on her face were still wet, and two dark circles under her eyes were prominent. She looked utterly distraught. “Mrs. Hayes, you’re here just in time. What’s going on?” Through Mrs. Hayes’s sobs, I slowly pieced together the story. Her husband had been in a car accident and needed surgery. The medical bills were astronomical, forcing her to sell her cars and properties. And the apartment I was renting just happened to have a buyer… “Mrs. Hayes, I deeply sympathize with your situation, but shouldn’t you have told me in advance? Now my things are scattered everywhere, my luggage is tossed out like trash, and it’s already so late. Where am I supposed to go?” “This is indeed my fault, Chloe. You know I haven’t raised your rent all this time. If I hadn’t been truly desperate, I wouldn’t have sold this apartment. But the buyer is in a hurry, and I desperately need the money.” Mrs. Hayes started crying again, lamenting her misfortune. Then she took my hand, her voice pleading: “Chloe, I remember your family lives nearby, right? Why don’t you go home for now? I’ll refund the rest of your rent.” There was no point arguing. I could only accept my fate. By the time I left the building, dragging two suitcases, it was completely dark. I felt like a stray cat, with nowhere to go. Of course, I could go back to my parents’ place, but every time we meet, they lecture me about being a freelancer—unstable job, no boyfriend, the whole list. Going home would just lead to another argument, so I decided to find a hotel for the night. To make matters worse, when I tried to check into a hotel, I realized I couldn’t find my ID. At the same time, a SnapChat message popped up on my phone. [Julian: I just checked the system. Your test results are in. Why haven’t you come back?] A patient’s always wary of a doctor’s sudden concern, and I was no exception. He was contacting me this late. Could it be that I had some serious illness?! I shakily called Julian on FaceTime. He answered immediately. “Dr. Julian, I had an emergency this afternoon and couldn’t wait for the report. Are you contacting me because the results aren’t good?” “Are you home right now?” My heart sank. How serious was this? He was asking if I was home—was he going to admit me immediately? “I’m at a hotel. Do I need to come back to the hospital now?” “Which hotel are you at? I’ll pick you up.” Julian’s tone sounded urgent. Fearing the worst, I immediately told him the address. Less than half an hour later, the hotel room door opened, and Julian walked in, bringing a gust of cool air with him. My anxious heart unexpectedly calmed the moment I saw him. He exhaled slowly, walking towards me. He took my suitcases and said softly: “Coming with me?” Wow, he was handsome! I was completely charmed, my mind blank. I nodded and followed him. When I came to my senses, I was already sitting in the passenger seat of his car. Julian asked why I was stranded. I explained what had happened. He listened quietly, his eyes fixed on me. “So, do you want to stay at my place?” “?” Perhaps seeing the guarded look in my eyes, Julian quickly added: “My house is big, with empty rooms. You can stay until you find a new place. And with your health situation, it’ll be easier if I’m nearby.” He was just being a good doctor, and here I was, overthinking it! Besides, what was there to worry about? If Julian and I lived together, he’d be the one at a disadvantage. “Thank you, Dr. Julian. That’s very kind of you.” I was worried about my health and asked Julian several times about the test results during the drive. He always seemed evasive, which made me uneasy. Just as I was about to burst into tears from overthinking, he finally said: “Don’t worry. The results show a bit of hyperplasia, nothing serious. I can just massage it daily, and it’ll clear up.” At the time, I had no idea that his “massages” would change our relationship forever…

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