Liam was my husband. We had been married for five years, and our love was as strong as ever. Until I received an anonymous video: a man’s head was bashed in, his face a bloody mess, with several stab wounds on his body. If it weren’t for the custom-made diamond ring on his ring finger, even I wouldn’t have recognized Liam. At this moment, I was lying with my back to “Liam”, desperately trying to stifle any sound. Who, then, was sleeping beside me? “Nora, why aren’t you asleep? Is the wound hurting again?” The gradually dimming phone screen reflected Liam’s expressionless face. He stared at the phone, his neck craned at an awkward angle. I stiffened but quickly turned to hug him, whispering, “It’s nothing. I’m just feeling a bit upset about the baby.” Liam and I had been married for five years. My mother-in-law, Martha, had been urging us to have a child. I had helped Liam start his business from scratch, but the constant drinking and late nights at social events had taken a toll on my health. For the past two years, I had been trying to recover my health, and finally got pregnant. But just two months ago, the doctor told me that the baby’s heartbeat was extremely unstable. They diagnosed it as a genetic defect syndrome. Giving birth would not only be irresponsible to the child but also pose a huge risk to my safety. The doctor recommended termination. And just like that, my first baby left this world. Liam reached out and stroked my face. His expression was hidden in the darkness, unreadable. His fingers were ice-cold, sending a shiver of fear through me as they traced my skin. “Honey, did you forget to take your medicine today? You know Mom specially got it prescribed by the doctor.” Liam and I both loved children dearly, and losing the baby had left me with depression. I had quit my job to rest at home. Liam’s voice was so gentle it could almost wring water. He got up to heat some milk for me. Watching his back, my thoughts lingered on the terrifying sensation of Liam’s fingers on my face. Remembering the gruesome scene in the video, my body involuntarily shuddered, causing me to drop my phone. As I bent down to retrieve it, I suddenly caught a whiff of a very subtle formaldehyde smell. The screen’s light illuminated my horrified face. There was a dead infant under the bed. It was curled up, preserved in formaldehyde solution, its pale face turned towards me. Suddenly, its tightly closed eyes opened, staring straight into mine. Then its mouth twisted into an eerie smile. My whole body trembled, goosebumps erupting on my arms. Overwhelmed by fear, I felt my body go limp. In my panic, I turned around only to see Liam standing at the door with a glass of milk, smiling at me.

When I regained consciousness, it was already noon the next day. “Nora, you’re finally awake. Are you feeling any discomfort?” Liam sat by my bedside, looking at me with concern. Ignoring him, I immediately got out of bed and pulled out the jar from underneath. The glass had shattered, but instead of the dead infant I saw last night, it was a small figure wrapped in bloody bandages! “Impossible, I clearly saw… it even smiled at me…” I panicked and stumbled backwards, only to be caught in Liam’s embrace. “Oh no, who broke the jar?!” An elderly woman rushed in, first complaining, then wailing as she cradled the jar. “My poor grandson, can’t even rest in peace after death…” “Mom, what’s going on? Who told you to put this thing under our bed?!” Liam scolded his mother while gently comforting me. I stared blankly at her wrinkled face, only connecting her to my mother-in-law when Liam spoke. My condition seemed to have worsened recently. My memories of everyone were just blurry fragments, even their faces seemed covered in a layer of sand, impossible to recall clearly. “The house is haunted, so I found a spiritual healer,” she said. “We can’t let it interfere with my grandson’s birth!” She had been looking down, speaking hesitantly at first. But then she glanced at me, her tone turning disdainful and louder, as if intentionally speaking for me to hear. “Alright, Mom, that’s enough. Don’t upset Nora,” Liam urged his mother to leave, his tone annoyed. “What I saw last night wasn’t a small figure…” I said, my fear growing. No matter how I tried to explain, Liam insisted I had just had a nightmare. “Honey, where’s my phone?” I suddenly remembered the video, wanting to show it as proof. But Liam’s expression turned strange. He unlocked his phone and held it up to me. “You mean this video?” ! “How did you know?” I felt scared, backing away step by step. Liam sighed, “You’ve watched this video many times already. Every day you suspect that I might be dead.” “I know losing the baby was a huge blow to you. You’ve developed depression and prosopagnosia.” “But this is just a video. I’m standing right here, alive and unharmed.” I stared intently at the ring on Liam’s finger, suddenly deflating. Perhaps I really was too stressed out. “I’ll be here to help you get better, trust me, okay?” “We’ll definitely have our own child someday.” Liam’s last sentence sounded like comfort, but I detected something odd in it. He kissed my forehead and walked towards the door. “Nora, I’m going to buy your favorite roast duck.” I watched him leave, trying to recall last night’s events. To my horror, I realized that my memories were all fragmented, and even Liam’s face was starting to blur. “Nora, come on, it’s time for your medicine.” Martha appeared at the door with a cup of medicine just as Liam left. “Am I taking the medicine this early today?” I looked at the time, feeling confused. After all the strange occurrences, I didn’t want to take the medicine, even if Liam said it would help my condition. But Martha just stood there holding the cup, staring at me intently. She looked very eager. “Mom, you can leave it here. I’ll drink it in a bit.” Martha reluctantly put down the cup and left, repeatedly reminding me not to waste it. I stared at the dark brown liquid, a thought flashing through my mind. Why had my symptoms gotten worse after taking this medicine for so long? Could there be something wrong with the medicine? As I picked up the cup, debating whether to drink it or not, I caught a glimpse of something in the full-length mirror by the wardrobe. The door was slightly ajar, and Martha’s pale face was pressed against the crack, expressionlessly staring at me.

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My husband’s ex-girlfriend secretly donated a kidney to me. After the surgery, her health declined rapidly, and my husband took care of her with overwhelming attentiveness. Then, standing on his moral high ground, he scolded me, “Nina, she ended up like this because of who? Can’t you be a little more understanding?” Endless arguments followed, and I eventually wasted away from the emotional exhaustion. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment right before my kidney transplant surgery. I immediately pulled out my oxygen tube, “I’m not going through with the surgery. I’m giving up on treatment.” I never imagined that after my death, my husband would go insane. 1 The overhead fluorescent light flickered, making me dizzy. The sound of the doctor’s voice announcing the countdown to the kidney transplant echoed in my ears. I suddenly realized I had been reborn. Without hesitation, I pulled the oxygen tube out. Struggling, I sat up on the operating table, “Dr. Lucas, I’m not going through with the surgery. I’m giving up treatment.” Dr. Lucas was shocked, repeatedly emphasizing that my body couldn’t afford to wait any longer and that if I missed this chance, I might not find another matching donor in time. I thanked him, but I remained firm. Dr. Lucas sighed in resignation and notified everyone to cancel the surgery. After signing the organ donation consent form, I returned to the Downtown Loft I shared with Ryan. I started packing my bags. I had been diagnosed with kidney failure in the second year of our marriage while we were trying to conceive. At that time, Ryan and I were constantly at odds because of Claire Young. I thought having a baby might bring us closer, but instead, I received the terrible news about my health. Strictly speaking, Claire wasn’t really Ryan’s ex-girlfriend. She appeared in his life while I was abroad pursuing my ballet career, and they never officially became a couple. Back then, I was ambitious and determined not to give up my career for love. And I succeeded, becoming the principal dancer of the Joffrey Ballet in just two years. When I returned, I found out Ryan had been waiting for me all those years. His devotion moved me beyond words, and memories of our time together as students filled me with warmth. I accepted his proposal. It was only after we married that I learned about Claire Young. I discovered they had nearly become a couple, but my return to the U.S. had torn them apart. Because of my upbringing, I’ve always been sensitive and insecure in relationships. Ever since learning about Claire, I couldn’t sleep at night, and the arguments between Ryan and me grew more intense. I questioned him, asking why he claimed to love me but still had feelings for someone else. He accused me of being unreasonable and making things up. As the fights escalated, Ryan started working late just to avoid coming home. It wasn’t until I sought help from a therapist that I realized I still loved Ryan, this man who had been such a huge part of my youth. So I called him and asked him to come home. That night, he rushed back, embracing me as if he never wanted to let go. He promised he would transfer Claire to another city and focus on our marriage from then on. It was around that time I went for a check-up, planning to start preparing for a baby. Later, the doctor told me they had found a matching kidney donor. The donor wished to remain anonymous and didn’t want to reveal their identity. I understood. But I never imagined that person would be Claire. The day after my surgery, Ryan sat by my bedside with red eyes and told me we owed Claire a huge debt. From that point on, he showered her with care and attention. I couldn’t show any dissatisfaction. If I did, I’d be seen as ungrateful—a heartless woman. I could only watch as Claire slowly took Ryan away from me. I was powerless to stop it. In the end, I wasted away from the stress. When I died, Ryan stayed by Claire’s side, refusing to leave her for a moment. This time, I’ve chosen to let them be. To free myself. 2 I had lived in the Downtown Loft for two years, and packing took three suitcases. I sat on the couch, waiting. By 11 PM, Ryan still hadn’t come home. I called him. He answered almost immediately. But on the other end, it was Claire’s voice, “Mrs. Carter, is there something you need from Mr. Carter? He’s exhausted from back-to-back meetings and fell asleep at the office.” Claire had just undergone the kidney transplant surgery in Chicago—I knew that. But I didn’t expect her to head straight to Ryan’s office after getting off the operating table. She really did love him. I spoke calmly, “It’s nothing important. Just let him know when he wakes up.” “I’ve left the divorce papers on the dining table. Tell him to sign them when he has the time.” Claire gasped in shock on the other end of the line, her excitement barely concealed. Before she could say anything else, I hung up. I moved back to my Gold Coast Apartment, the one I’d bought before we were married. I thought Ryan would come looking for me, or at the very least call to discuss the divorce. But, as it turned out, I was overthinking it. There was no word from him. His phone had even been turned off. With no other choice, I went to his office. To my surprise, the receptionist informed me that Ryan had been in a car accident three days ago. His phone had been smashed, and he hadn’t had a chance to replace it. He had just undergone surgery and was now out of danger. My first reaction wasn’t worry, but amusement. I had been diagnosed with kidney failure and hadn’t told him. He got into a car accident, and I didn’t know. This marriage had clearly run its course. I drove to Northwestern Memorial Hospital, and sure enough, I ran into Claire outside the Private Suite. She was dressed casually, with perfectly applied makeup, radiating friendliness. I glanced toward the hospital room, “Is Ryan not here?” “Mr. Carter’s getting some tests done. He should be back in about an hour.” Claire’s expression turned cold as she closed the door to the suite. “Why don’t you head home?” Her disdain for me was clear. I smirked. “Claire, you can play the part of Mrs. Carter all you want after the divorce. But right now, you’re still not qualified.” Claire frowned, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Is that all you’ve got?” She paused for a moment, then smirked, bragging, “Did you know, when Ryan was unconscious and being rushed to the hospital, he was calling out my name the entire time? That’s why the hospital called me and not you, Mrs. Carter.” She bit hard on the words “Mrs. Carter,” her tone heavy with ridicule. In the past, hearing this would have sent me into a rage. But after all the arguments and silent treatments, I no longer cared. I was dying anyway—what did it matter what she said? I remained calm, pulled out the divorce papers from my bag, and handed them to her, “In that case, could you give this to your Mr. Carter? Have him sign and return them when he gets the chance.” As I spoke, I watched Claire’s face change. She grabbed my wrist, trying to make me slap her with the papers. The divorce papers scattered everywhere, and Claire turned her head to the side, dramatically covering her face with her hand, feigning pain. I winced from the sharp pain in my wrist, sucking in a breath. Before I could react, Ryan’s cold, angry voice came from behind, “Apologize.” 3 Ryan stormed over and immediately pulled Claire behind him, shielding her. Claire shot me a triumphant smile. She was claiming her territory. I could feel my blood boiling. I didn’t care who Ryan wanted to protect, but if Claire thought she could openly frame me, she was mistaken! I coldly bent down to pick up the divorce papers, walked right up to Claire, and slapped them against her face again. Ryan moved to stop me, but it was too late. I glared at Claire fiercely: “See it clearly? Next time you try to frame me, at least make it convincing!” Claire’s face flushed red on one side. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked pitifully at Ryan. “Ryan, I didn’t…” Ryan’s brow furrowed deeply, and he pulled Claire even further behind him. His eyes pierced through me: “Can you leave her out of this? Why are you acting like a lunatic?” “I’ve heard this a thousand times before,” I replied calmly, unfazed. “If you don’t want your assistant to be hurt again, just sign the divorce papers.” Ryan’s face was tense with anger, but after a moment, he turned to Claire with a professional tone: “Sorry, my wife didn’t mean it. Consider this a workplace injury. Keep your receipts, and the company will reimburse you.” “You’ve worked hard these past few days. You can head home now.” “Thank you, Mr. Carter.” Claire gave a soft, grateful reply before gathering her things and leaving the room. Once she was gone, I followed Ryan into the suite. The moment we stepped inside, he pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck: “Nina, don’t you have any compassion? That night, I woke up to see you had been calling me repeatedly, saying you wanted a divorce. I panicked, speeding home, and ended up in the car accident.” “And now you don’t even visit me in the hospital. You still want to go through with the divorce.” His voice broke as he clung to me like a lost puppy: “Nina, please, have mercy on me.” 4 I should feel pity for him, right? But who pities me? And fine, if he wants to blame me for the car accident, I’ll accept it. But what did he mean by saying I didn’t come to the hospital because I was being difficult? My blood started to boil. Ryan, however, ignored my growing frustration and leaned in, trying to kiss me. Suddenly, an image of Claire in his arms from my previous life flashed through my mind. Disgust churned inside me, and I pushed him away violently. I ran to the bathroom and vomited, my body shaking with revulsion. When I came back out, Ryan’s face had turned icy cold. “Nina, do I disgust you that much? You can’t even pretend for a moment!” “If you need someone, go find your precious Claire,” I shot back, my voice as cold as his. “She’s sweet and considerate—everything I’m not, right?” I cut him off before he could respond, thrusting the divorce papers at him again. “Just sign the papers. The sooner, the better.” Ryan was at a loss for words, his anger barely contained. After a tense silence, he forced himself to explain, his voice tight with frustration: “I’ve told you a thousand times, Claire is just an employee. There’s nothing between us, Nina. Why can’t you believe me?” I looked up at him, eyes blazing, and his tone softened in response. “Nina, I’m recovering from an accident here,” he pleaded, reaching out for my hand. I instinctively pulled away. He took a deep breath, his frustration visible, but he still knelt in front of me, trying to calm me down. His eyes were full of sincerity. I stared at him, a bitter feeling rising in my chest. In my past life, he had apologized countless times for Claire, explaining himself and asking for forgiveness. And every single time, I had forgiven him. But what did I get in return? Every time Claire and I clashed, he took her side, standing against me. As a woman, I saw through Claire’s games clearly. I knew exactly what she was doing. But Ryan always thought I was the one being unreasonable, that I was the one stirring up trouble. This wouldn’t change, no matter how many lives I lived. I was exhausted. “Ryan, let’s just stop this.” “Three days from now, I’ll be waiting at the Cook County Clerk’s Office. If you don’t show up, I’ll have no choice but to take legal action.” I didn’t want to die being labeled as “Ryan Carter’s tragic widow.” Without another word, I turned and walked out. Behind me, I heard his voice crack, filled with frustration and vulnerability: “Nina, why are you always so rash? Do you know how unfair you’re being to me?” I had never heard him sound so fragile before. 5 Three days passed, and I stood outside the Cook County Clerk’s Office, but Ryan never showed. I called my lawyer immediately and initiated divorce proceedings. My health was deteriorating fast, and I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. That afternoon, after returning from the hospital, I found Ryan standing angrily outside my Gold Coast Apartment. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his entire posture radiating tension. Claire was standing behind him, her eyes red and swollen, the clear imprint of five fingers on her pale cheek. When she saw me, she instinctively shrank back, as if afraid I might hit her again. I raised my eyebrows, annoyed. “Really? Trying this trick again? Didn’t get enough the last time, huh?” “Nina, enough!” Ryan exploded, shouting at me with a mix of fury and disappointment. “You’ve crossed the line—vandalizing my car, hiring people to harass me, hitting Claire? Do you realize you’re breaking the law?” He started listing my supposed offenses, as if I were some criminal mastermind. Honestly, if he and Claire hadn’t shown up at my door, I wouldn’t even have known I’d committed so many “crimes.” I opened my mouth to throw back a snarky remark, but Claire beat me to it, interrupting in tears: “Mrs. Carter, Ryan and I are only work colleagues.” “I come from a difficult family background. I worked hard, studied hard, and finally managed to make something of myself. I don’t want to go back home.” “I’ll resign if it helps. Please, just let me go.” As she spoke, she started to kneel down in front of me, but Ryan pulled her up quickly, his face burning with anger as he turned to me. “Look at what you’ve reduced her to. Is this what you wanted?” He stood there, looking at me with the same disappointed, angry eyes I’d seen countless times before. It was as if I was back in my previous life, being endlessly blamed for things that weren’t my fault. And once again, Claire played the victim perfectly. I had seen this too many times. Claire’s innocent act was something Ryan never seemed to see through. My body was already wracked with pain, and now, my anger added to the suffering, tightening my chest. I glared at both of them, my voice sharp. “You two come here, invade my space, then ask me if I’m satisfied? Ryan, are you out of your mind?” “If you really believe I did all this, call the cops. Let the law deal with me.” “But stop pretending you’re on some moral high ground, looking down on me. It’s disgusting!” I gasped for breath as the pain wracked my body, but I managed to give them a final ultimatum: “Now, get out of my home before I call the police myself.” Ryan looked like he had more to say, but Claire gently tugged on his sleeve, urging him to let it go. With fury in his eyes, he turned to me, spitting out his final words: “Nina, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You’re just trying to push me into a corner so I’ll divorce you!” “Fine, divorce it is. I’ll do it. Let’s just say I loved the wrong person all these years.” He turned and stormed off. Claire followed, but not before casting me a smug, triumphant glance, like she had finally won. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my chest ached with frustration. How dare Ryan say that? The truth was, I was the one who had loved the wrong person all along. 6 That very night, Claire moved into the Downtown Loft that Ryan and I had shared. She even recorded a video and sent it to me. Every word she spoke in the video dripped with pride and smugness. Without a flicker of emotion, I took screenshots of her messages, packaged them neatly, and sent them to Ryan’s email. I scheduled them to go out two days later. Ryan and I had agreed to meet the next day to finalize our divorce. I planned to sever all ties with him before showing him Claire’s true colors. I wanted him to regret it, to suffer. He owed me that much.

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After a month of continuous overtime, my dark circles were worse than a raccoon’s. I finally managed to complete the project successfully. I was eagerly waiting for a promotion and a raise. The manager called me into his office. “Flora, you’ve been doing great lately. Keep up the good work.” I nodded frantically, waiting for more. ? Silence. I waited a bit longer, still silence. “Is that all?” I asked. The manager seemed to snap out of a trance. “Oh right, I almost forgot the main thing.” I knew it. How could there just be verbal praise? “Here are the materials for the new project. You’ll be in charge again. Try to wrap it up in a month.” Looking at the pile of documents half a foot high, I felt as sick as if I’d eaten something rotten. “Wasn’t I supposed to be promoted to supervisor after completing this project?” The manager got up from his chair and walked over to me, patting my shoulder. “Flora, you’re still young. You’ll have plenty of opportunities. Besides, this is just a small supervisor position. After you complete a few more projects, I’ll apply to headquarters for an exception to promote you to manager.” I didn’t buy his empty promises at all. “So who got it this time?” “Erin.” A newcomer who’d been here less than six months. “Leslie, what do you mean? You’re not promoting me but a newbie instead? Did you hit your head or something?” The manager wasn’t just my boss but also my boyfriend. He knew better than anyone how hard I’d worked for this promotion opportunity. Forget about holidays, I’d been working around the clock. “Leslie, you’d better give me an explanation, or no one’s going to have a good time.” Leslie’s face darkened. “Flora, this is the company. I’m your superior. Just follow orders.” Then his tone became more soothing. “Flora, I’m your boyfriend. How could I hurt you? I worked hard to get this project for you. You’ll get your rewards later, okay?” It’s always next time. “Stop making empty promises. I’m not falling for it.” When I returned to my desk with the documents, Erin was receiving congratulations from our colleagues. As soon as she saw me, she rushed over and hugged me. “Flora, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why the boss chose me. We all thought it would be you. You’re not mad at me, are you?” “I’ll go ask the manager right away if there’s been a mistake.” I pushed her away irritably. “Sure, why wait? Go ask him now.” Erin’s expression changed. She lowered her head and said nothing. After a while, she sent a message in the group chat saying she wanted to treat everyone to dinner. Instantly, the group chat was filled with congratulations. It was so annoying. “Flora, you’re coming, right? I want your blessing the most. If it weren’t for your constant help, I wouldn’t have had this opportunity.” “Everyone says you’re stupid and incompetent, but now it seems you’re quite smart. You know you don’t deserve it.” “Erin, weren’t you going to ask the manager? Why haven’t you gone yet? It turns out your gratitude to me was all fake.” I deliberately softened my tone, sounding pitiful. Erin stood across from me, speechless, her face awkward. She really thought everyone would fall for her fake act. How ridiculous.

In the evening, Erin treated our department to dinner at a restaurant that cost $50 per person. She was really generous. With good food, everyone was naturally happy. Only I was out of place. “Flora, it’s all in the past now. Don’t act like everyone owes you something.” I rolled my eyes at Leslie. “My salary this month is incorrect. I didn’t get the project bonus.” Leslie turned away, pretending not to hear. I felt a sense of unease rising in my heart. I pulled Leslie over. “The project bonus was $3,000. Why didn’t I receive a penny?” Seeing that I wouldn’t let it go, he said, “The project is Erin’s, so naturally the bonus is hers too.” No wonder she was being so generous today. I lost the promotion, I can bear it. I lost the bonus, I can bear that too. But losing both the promotion and the bonus? I can’t take it! Leslie saw that I was angry and leaned in to whisper a warning in my ear. “Control yourself a bit. We’ll talk about this later.” I threw a glass of red wine in Leslie’s face. “Control myself? Screw you!” The previously lively private room suddenly fell silent. Everyone stared at us in confusion. Leslie struggled to contain his anger. “Haha, it’s nothing. Flora just lost her grip on the wine glass. Please, everyone, carry on.” Erin was the first to react. She quickly grabbed some napkins and started wiping the wine off Leslie’s face. “Flora, you’re a grown woman. How can you be so clumsy?” I used to think she was cute, having just graduated and with a baby face. Her soft-spoken manner made me instinctively want to take care of her more. Now I see I took care of her too well. Even my boyfriend is hers now. Just look at how intimate they are. If there’s nothing going on between them, I’ll eat my hat. Erin finished wiping Leslie’s face and was about to say something to me, but I spoke first. “Don’t yell at me. I’ve been afraid of dogs since I was little.” Leslie slammed the table and stood up, pointing at me. “Flora, when will you stop? Everyone’s here to celebrate Erin’s promotion. Don’t ruin everyone’s mood with your emotions.” Siding with an outsider against his girlfriend, Leslie really outdid himself. I busted my ass off, and now all my achievements have been stolen. I’m supposed to swallow my blood and tears and happily celebrate for the person who stole my bonus and position? My life is just as valuable as hers. I’m not happy today, so no one else gets to be happy either, especially Erin and Leslie. I knocked down Leslie’s hand pointing at me. “Your happiness is none of my business.” Then I turned to Erin, “No merit, no hard work. I don’t know what shady methods you used, but since you got it, keep your tail between your legs. Don’t act like you’re so capable. It’s disgusting.” Erin’s face turned red, unable to come up with a retort for a long time. She only knew how to play the victim. “Flora, I know you’re upset about not being chosen. You misunderstand me, but I don’t blame you.” Then she reddened her eyes, tears welling up, looking pitiful. Seeing this, several male colleagues began to criticize me. “Flora, you’re going too far. We’ve known Erin for so long. We know what kind of person she is. The company must have its reasons for choosing her.” Erin usually sweet-talks these guys, calling them “brother” this and that, acting cute. These men in the department just eat it up. “Yeah, you’re so generous. Since you completed the project, why don’t you give her the credit? I remember last month’s bonus was $2,000, right? Transfer it! Do it right in front of me! Let me learn what kind of reason it is.” I stood on the chair, looking down at the male colleague, holding his phone up to his eyes. The male colleague stood there woodenly, not speaking or taking the phone. “Use your brain before you open your mouth next time.” I turned to another male colleague who had criticized me. “I know you don’t speak well, but you don’t have to spew garbage with your mouth.” Seeing my increasingly arrogant attitude, Leslie put on his leadership act. “Flora, I order you to apologize to Erin right now.” “I’m not in customer service. I’m not good at apologizing for things that aren’t my fault.” After I finished speaking, Erin’s tears came pouring down. Even while crying, she didn’t forget to disgust me one more time. “I’m… sorry. It’s all my fault… for making everyone unhappy.” I didn’t forget to keep fanning the flames. “That’s right, it’s all your fault.” “Flora, if you don’t want to eat, just get out of here.” Who says I don’t want to eat? When someone else is paying, why wouldn’t I eat? Not only will I eat, but I’ll eat well. I called the waiter over to order more dishes. When he came in, his eyes darted frantically between us. After all, at our table, some people had iron-gray faces, some had black faces, some were in tears, and then there was me with a smile I couldn’t hide. Today, I offended a lot of people at this dinner without realizing it. Sorry, I’ll dare to do it again next time. You need to know that although I can’t make everyone happy, I can make everyone unhappy.

After venting my anger, I felt refreshed. I even slept more comfortably that night. In the morning, I was in such a good mood that I put on makeup before going to work. I had barely sat down at my desk when Leslie called me to his office. “Why didn’t you answer your phone last night?” I lazily sat on the sofa. “I don’t like listening to dogs bark.” “Flora, do you have to make things so tense over such a small matter?” Such a small matter?! This man is actually still my boyfriend. My mistake. I slapped Leslie across the face, then grabbed his hair with both hands. Leslie bent over in pain, and I took the opportunity to kick him twice. “A small matter? I work my ass off every day not for money, am I here to pray? You give my bonus to another woman, and you have the nerve to tell me it’s a small matter.” “Leslie, you seem to have forgotten one thing: there are no small matters when it comes to your girlfriend.” With that, I let go of Leslie and gave him one last kick in the stomach. Leslie roared in pain. “Flora, we’re done.” “If we’re done, I’m the one dumping you. You and Erin have been hooking up for a while, haven’t you? You two do look more compatible than us. Cupid’s trash sorting seems quite on point.” Leslie dusted off his shirt. “I’ve had enough of you for a long time. You have no femininity, all you know is work all day.” “You’re not qualified to criticize me.” I rolled up my sleeves. Today, if I don’t beat Leslie into submission, my name isn’t Flora! “Leslie, I think you need a beating!” We started fighting in the office. Although as a woman I’m naturally at a disadvantage in terms of strength, I have long nails, I can scratch and pull hair, and I’m not afraid to bite. I’m quite fierce. Due to the commotion, colleagues came to check on us. Erin was the first to rush in. Seeing the nail marks and blood on Leslie’s face and neck. She spread her arms like an eagle protecting its chicks, standing in front of Leslie. “Flora, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Don’t hurt the innocent. Leslie is just following the rules.” You asked for it. Come at you it is. Just as I was about to act again, a female colleague I’m close with pulled me away. “Flora, you’ve beaten him and cursed him out. If you keep going, you’ll be the one who suffers. The manager is clearly paving the way for his girlfriend.” I looked at her in confusion. Has my secret relationship with Leslie been exposed? But is this how you pave the way for your girlfriend? “Erin doesn’t know how to do anything. If she hadn’t latched onto Leslie, she would have been fired long ago.” “When did you find out they were together?” Seeing my confusion, the female colleague looked shocked. “They’ve been subtly flaunting their relationship on social media for almost a month. Don’t tell me you didn’t know?” Very good. I, the official girlfriend, only found out yesterday. Now I just want to transform into a monkey in the park and slap both of them.

My colleague and I opened Erin’s social media at the same time. On my end, only two posts were visible: one was about working overtime last month, and the other was yesterday’s, with a picture of the HR appointment and text thanking the company and colleagues for their trust. But on my colleague’s end, there were over a dozen posts. [Text: Someone said dining with me should be at a romantic place. Picture: An atmospheric French fine dining restaurant.] Looking at the date, I was working overtime writing the proposal at that time. This restaurant is a popular spot for couples online. I had mentioned it to Leslie before, but he said these trendy places were overpriced and not worth it. In the end, we ate hotpot downstairs. [Text: Collecting moments of accessible heartbeats. Picture: A photo of them making heart shapes at an art exhibition.] Although only one hand is visible, the watch on Leslie’s wrist is the one I gave him. Looking at the date, that day I was at the company revising the proposal. Leslie said it still wasn’t good enough. [Text: Just one look, and someone bought it right away. Picture: The latest iPhone model.] Looking at the date, Leslie gave it to Erin the day after I gave it to him. At the time, he had hinted that his phone was broken but he couldn’t afford a new one. I had just gotten paid, so I bought it right away. When I saw he wasn’t using it, I asked about it. He said it was stolen when he went out. He felt very guilty about it, and I was planning to buy another one when I got the bonus this time. For the first time in my 25 years of life, I doubted my own intelligence. Girls, spending money on men will bring you bad luck for eight lifetimes. Looking through the posts one by one, my fists were clenched tighter than a fish-killing knife. At this moment, I wanted to transform into an octopus so I could slap Leslie and Erin eight times at once. Just as I was thinking this, Erin returned to her desk. When our eyes met, she glared at me fiercely. I used to think this young girl was quite cute, but now I realize she’s actually quite ugly. Especially when I saw the phone she put on her desk. That phone was bought with my money! My money! Money! I can’t take it anymore! I snatched the phone from Erin’s desk and stormed into Leslie’s office again. Seeing me, Leslie’s eyes visibly showed fear. I handed the phone to his desk. “I found the stolen phone. Let’s call the police.” Before Leslie could speak, Erin, who had followed me in, questioned me first. “Flora, why did you grab my phone?” “Leslie said you stole his phone. He’s going to report it to the police.” “What are you talking about? This is my phone.” Leslie lowered his head, not daring to speak.

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On my wedding day with Zack Wilson, his “best friend” Mia appeared before me with a huge pregnant belly. She looked at me with tears streaming down her face: “Olivia, you already have everything. Can you please let Zack go? I… I’m already carrying his child…” I ripped off my veil and threw it to the ground, my demeanor full of contempt. Turning around, I saw the panic in Zack’s eyes. I thought to myself, he must have remembered our agreement – If anything went wrong with this wedding, all his assets would become mine. Zack and I had known each other for five years, from campus to the wedding dress. Countless people envied our love. We were a perfect match – from similar backgrounds, both talented and good-looking, a match made in heaven… I had heard such praise countless times, but I never took it to heart. Because I knew Zack had someone else in his heart. He and Mia had known each other for ten years, five years longer than me. Strangely, he and Mia always referred to each other as “bros”, as if their relationship was so pure it hadn’t been tainted by a hint of romance. Later, they were admitted to the same university and the same major. But for some reason, in his freshman year, Zack pursued me – someone from a different department. At that time, I still had some fantasies about campus romance. Zack was handsome, good-tempered, and polite. So, in the second month of his pursuit, I agreed to date him. After a blissful week together, I noticed there was someone very odd around him. Mia – a girl with an ordinary pretty face and short hair. On one hand, she called me “sister-in-law”, but on the other hand, she would drape her arm around Zack’s shoulders and say, “You’re amazing! You found such a beautiful girlfriend so quickly. Do you have any secret techniques you can teach me?” Mia was a head shorter than Zack, so when she put her arm around his shoulders, her mouth naturally came close to his ear. They were so close they could feel each other’s breath. It was extremely intimate, but Zack seemed completely used to it and didn’t mind at all. The first time I saw it, there was naturally a second and third time. I couldn’t understand why Zack still had such an intimate female friend after getting a girlfriend. At first, I thought I was overthinking it and brought it up with him privately a few times. To my surprise, Zack’s answer left me speechless. “Mia and I have been best friends for five or six years. We’ve always been like this. I can’t distance myself from her just because I have a girlfriend now. That would be an insult to our pure friendship!” I also talked to Mia about it. Her response made me think she was an idiot. “What are you talking about? Zack and I have been best friends for so many years. How did that turn into some sappy romance in your mind? Romance is only suitable for Zack to have with girls like you!” Mia hesitated a bit at the end. It seemed difficult for her to call someone taller than her, with a more mature face and a womanly figure, a “girl”. Fine, if that’s your pure friendship, I won’t get involved. I quickly broke up with Zack.

I originally thought we could part ways amicably and hopefully never see each other again. Who knew this jerk Zack wouldn’t agree to break up? “Are you out of your mind? I’ve said break up, break up, break up. Why do you still come to my classroom building to wait for me every day?!” “Ha! It’s one thing if you came alone,” I pointed at Mia and voiced my deepest confusion, “but why did you bring your so-called best friend? Are you brainless? Can’t you think for yourself and need her to give you advice on everything?” My outburst showed how angry I was. Zack pretended to be an honest guy and scratched his head. “I, I thought since you’re both girls, she might understand your emotions better, so I…” Mia chimed in from behind him: “That’s right, please don’t misunderstand him…” “Get lost!” I was in the middle of a PE class at the time. In the heat of the moment, I hurled the basketball I was holding hard at Zack. Fate is the most magical thing in this world, and ill fate is no exception. When my parents took me to apologize to Zack, what a coincidence, the two families actually knew each other. “Oh! Is this Olivia? You’ve grown so big! When you were just a tiny little thing, I held you in my arms. Do you remember Uncle Wilson?” It turned out my dad and Zack’s dad had been best friends since college. If the Wilson family hadn’t gone overseas to start their business, Zack and I might have gotten together even earlier! But my mom’s expression when looking at Mr. Wilson was a bit strange. She hid behind my dad’s back, unusually silent. My foolish dad didn’t notice anything amiss. After some polite chitchat, Zack and my relationship quickly became known to both families. “Olivia, my son is just awkward and doesn’t know how to treat his girlfriend well. If he does anything to upset you, feel free to teach him a lesson.” “Here,” Mr. Wilson flicked Zack’s injured forehead, “That’s what he deserves. Let him learn his lesson. But -” His tone changed, “Don’t miss out on your perfect match over some unworthy people!” I stood in the hospital room filled with the strong smell of disinfectant, staring at Zack who was smiling foolishly at me with annoyance. Was I blind before? How could I have thought this guy looked decent? He looks just like his dad! I looked at Mr. Wilson again. Handsome, gentle and refined, polite… but his gaze – Was staring at my mom like a venomous snake! That night, I went to my mom’s room to find her. She was sitting in her huge luxurious bedroom, silently crying while looking at the moon. “Mom, what’s wrong? You didn’t say a word during dinner. That’s not like you at all.” My dad had gone out for a business dinner again. Now in this mansion, I was the only one who could have a heart-to-heart talk with mom. “It’s nothing,” Mom wiped away her tears and smiled at me, “I just remembered some sad things from the past. Don’t worry about me. Go to bed early, don’t you have an 8 am class tomorrow?” I took Mom’s hand and said gently, “Mom, I saw everything today. Mr. Wilson -” Mom’s whole body trembled and she immediately interrupted me: “No, don’t say it!!!” Later, I only left after watching Mom fall asleep.

Zack and I got back together, under the strangely enthusiastic matchmaking of his father. I don’t know if his dad said something to him, but Mia started appearing around us less and less frequently. Valentine’s Day came, and Zack ordered a big bouquet of roses for me. “Thank you!” I leaned into Zack’s arms with a shy expression, then gently kissed his cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mia staring at us wistfully. Tears were streaming down her pretty face. Huh, was she crying while watching us from afar? My gaze fell on the roses in my hand again. I had told Zack before that I didn’t like roses. So who liked roses and suggested buying them? “Olivia, I bought two movie tickets. It’s the latest sci-fi blockbuster. Want to go see it?” I lowered my head submissively and said softly, “Sure, you can plan this date however you like.” Zack hugged me and spun me around happily, grinning like an idiot. “Olivia, you’re the best!” I looked towards where Mia had been standing earlier. She had left with red eyes. In the dim cinema, Zack went to buy popcorn and I left the flowers at the front desk. Turning around, I ran into Mia at the corner. Huh, unexpected, yet not surprising. She was with a group of guys who usually hung out with Zack. “Is this Zack’s girlfriend? She’s gorgeous, like a goddess!” The group stood across from me, teasing and catcalling. Mia coolly blew her bangs out of her face. “Are you and Zack here to watch a movie too? Which showing are you seeing?” Just then, Zack came back. What a coincidence – the two groups had tickets for the same showing, with seats right next to each other. Mia casually took the popcorn from Zack’s hands and distributed it to the other guys. “Share some popcorn with us~ The movie’s about to start and we don’t have time to buy any.” With that, the group went into the theater laughing and joking. Zack held the only remaining box of popcorn, looking at me cautiously. “Why are you looking at me like that, Zack? Let’s go in, the movie’s about to start.” I took his hand and walked in. The dim lighting hid my eye roll.

Whether intentional or coincidental, Mia’s seat was right next to Zack’s. Mia smiled and held the popcorn, “Hehe, we can all go get dinner together after the movie.” I stared blankly ahead, not wanting to engage with her. Maybe this was the type of movie they usually liked to watch together. Towards the end, Zack was huddled with that group whispering and discussing. As for me, I was yawning from boredom. Seeing them chatting happily, I decided to take a little nap. Who knew that when I opened my eyes again, even the end credits had finished playing. Our group walked out, with Mia enthusiastically discussing the plot with Zack. The two of them got more and more engrossed in their conversation, and soon they were walking far ahead of us. Leaving me to awkwardly stare at Zack’s group of friends behind us. Maybe my silence made them think I was upset. Some tried to tell jokes to cheer me up, others bought me bubble tea and snacks. “Don’t take it personally, Olivia. Mia and Zack have known each other for so long that they have similar interests and hobbies. When they start talking, they can go on for hours. None of us dare to interrupt.” I replied kindly and understandingly: “I know, they’re close childhood friends after all.” It took Zack half an hour to realize he had left me alone with his group of friends. He quickly ran back and sincerely apologized to me. “Olivia, I’m so sorry, I -” I waved my hand, cutting off his excuses. “It’s fine, it’s fine. You and Mia probably haven’t seen each other in a while, right? Taking some time to chat is no big deal. I’m not that petty.” I handed the snacks and bubble tea back to his friends and intimately linked my arm with Zack’s. “Zack, I’m hungry. Let’s go eat!” I swear, I had never used such a coquettish voice to talk to anyone in my life. Of course, the effect was excellent! Zack’s face turned bright red. His group of friends were quite lively, with one witty comment after another, all teasing us. Only Mia stood to the side clenching her fists, her eyes slightly red, without saying a word. A stark contrast to her talkative and lively demeanor earlier.

In the private room, I only knew Zack well. But Mia kept getting the group to toast Zack and make him drink. Some of the guys seemed to feel guilty, glancing in my direction when they toasted. I understood. It seemed Mia had asked them to get Zack drunk. Still, she did have some skills. So many people were willing to listen to her. Well, they had all known each other for much longer than they’d known me. After drinking too much, Zack suddenly hugged me and started kissing me sloppily. “Olivia, Olivia, you’re so beautiful. I like you so much.” I smiled and used my palm to block his alcohol-laden lips. “My dad really likes you too. He said I must marry you.” I laughed coldly to myself. What sweet dreams that old man Wilson was having. Zack tried to pucker up and kiss me again, but Mia suddenly came forward and pulled him away. “Zack, stop it. Olivia doesn’t want you to kiss her.” I don’t know how Mia managed it, but somehow Zack’s lips ended up planted on her mouth instead. She made a big show of pushing Zack away. He fell back into his chair, and the cold water on the table splashed all over his head. With a loud splash, he sobered up halfway. Mia’s eyes welled up with tears that threatened to fall. She looked at me, then locked eyes with the confused Zack for a long moment. Then she ran out of the room like the wind. Zack touched his lips, then chased after Mia in a panic, as if he was riding on wheels. “Haha! Don’t take offense…” His group of friends continued to play the role of peacemakers. I sincerely responded to their awkward toe-curling expressions. “How could I blame Zack? It was all an accident.” After I said this, I felt everyone’s gazes on me were full of shock. They were probably surprised that I loved Zack so much I’d even give up my dignity. Oh no, they might also think I was crazy. We ended up sitting in the room waiting for an hour before Zack finally brought back a tear-stained, messy Mia. They must have gotten enough of the cold air outside, as they both seemed quite calm and even maintained some distance, walking in one after the other. “Zack, you’re back. Let’s go home!” I didn’t care at all whether anything had happened between the two of them. I only knew it was dark and time to go home to sleep. The group of friends saw the two return and hurriedly said goodbye. I guess they couldn’t stand the atmosphere either. I called a taxi and invited Zack to ride with me. Yes, our two families lived in the same direction, not far apart. Zack looked at me, then hesitated and looked at Mia. Then, as if making some big decision, he called out to Mia: “Mia, don’t take what happened today to heart. It was all my fault for drinking too much. In the future! We’ll still be best friends!” I got into the taxi first and rolled my eyes without holding back. Did the alcohol go to his brain? Before Zack got in, I quickly composed myself and put on a gentle expression. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry Zack, I called a taxi for Mia too~”

After that incident, things suddenly became awkward between Zack and Mia. Although Zack accompanied me to class, he always seemed lost in thought, his eyes unfocused, often wearing a conflicted expression. While I was seriously taking notes in class, I spared some attention to observe him. I wonder what he was agonizing over. Did he trade all his intelligence for good looks? Under the double attack from me and Mia, Zack was under tremendous pressure and ended up losing a lot of weight. Oh my! It really “broke my heart”~ So I took him to eat at the cafeteria every day to replenish his nutrition. I passed him eggs, beef, chicken breast. All while wearing a concerned expression. “Zack, are you too tired from accompanying me to class lately? You’ve lost so much weight. Eat more, otherwise it breaks my heart to see you like this.” He smiled at me wearily and fondly pinched my fair, jade-like cheek. “Olivia, you’re so good to me!” I immediately gave him a shy expression in return. I became increasingly good to Zack and clung to him more and more. He also became more and more dependent on me. But for some reason, he always seemed to have Mia on his mind. After I had monopolized Zack’s time for a while, Mia finally couldn’t stand it anymore and came to find us. Our duo cleverly became a trio. For every major class, I brought two “bodyguards”, and even the professors frequently glanced in our direction. One time when the three of us were shopping at the mall, we ran into Zack’s dad. Mr. Wilson was dressed in a suit, tall and handsome, the picture of elegance. “Oh, it’s Olivia! Out shopping with Zack? See anything you like? Uncle Wilson will buy it for you.” Then, as if he had just noticed Mia, he said, “Why did you bring someone else along on your date? How can you two enjoy yourselves like this?” Mia stood next to Zack, nervously fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Uncle Wilson, I… I’m…” I stepped forward, closer to Mr. Wilson. “What can we do? The girl has a crush on Zack and insists on following us. At least after Zack and I break up, she can take over, so Zack won’t be too lonely.” After I said this, all three of them stared at me in shock. Mr. Wilson’s tone became anxious and uneasy. “What? Olivia, you want to break up with that idiot Zack?” Zack couldn’t believe it. “Olivia, don’t you love me the most? You, you actually thought about breaking up?!” Mia was shocked, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. “Olivia Tanner, what nonsense are you spouting… what do you mean ‘take over’? Who are you insulting?” Mia pointed at me, looking like I had bullied her terribly. Mr. Wilson raised his hand to slap her. “Who are you pointing at?!” Zack rushed over to save Mia from his father’s hand. “Dad! What are you doing hitting people?” “Is it because of her? Huh?! I’m asking you, is it because of her? Olivia is such a wonderful girl and you don’t appreciate her, insisting on being with this kind of woman instead.”

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My roommate, Jess Price, was absolutely convinced that every male in existence fancied her. From the fittest guy in our department to the old security guard, all of them, she believed, were at her feet. She’d created several WhatsApp groups full of admirers, posting heavily filtered selfies daily. And on top of that, she had no problem trashing me while insisting I give her my brother’s contact info. “Your brother seems to have a thing for me. Pass me his WhatsApp, I might as well have a bit of fun with him.” A senior once glanced her way, and Jess took it upon herself to snatch his laptop, claiming it was a love token. “Of course, he gave me his laptop. So what if I wiped all the data? He won’t mind; he’s smitten.” The most popular guy in the department had heard all about her, keeping a safe distance, yet she had her own twisted narrative. “Why would he avoid me and not others? Obviously, he’s shy!” Eventually, she crossed the line by going after the rich boyfriend of a spoiled daddy’s girl. That bloke wasn’t having it. “If I don’t give you a proper smackdown, it’d be an injustice to the mess you call your love life.”

I missed Freshers’ Week Bootcamp because of a minor car accident. Fortunately, the injury wasn’t too bad—just some swelling on my face. George, my brother, couldn’t help himself: “Your face looks like a painter’s palette—probably best to stay indoors for now.” But when I finally sorted out all my paperwork and arrived at Ashcroft Halls, his face was the one with red and blue streaks. “I don’t like speaking ill of women, but you’ve got an odd one in your flat. Keep your distance.” I laughed at his overreaction and shooed him away, then eagerly pushed open the door to my new room. “You’re Holly Sutton?” A girl’s eyes scanned me up and down. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.” “Give me your boyfriend’s WhatsApp. Though, tell him not to get his hopes up—I’m not interested in broke blokes. It’s all about their effort.” My boyfriend? What on earth? The girl covered her mouth and giggled. “Can’t blame you. It’s my overwhelming charm. Every man fancies me—it’s exhausting, really.” I was completely dumbfounded. “Wait, you’re saying my brother… fancies you?” My nephew’s already old enough to go on errands, love. Also, my sister-in-law, Emily, is a former beauty queen. “Your brother? You’re so ugly, you look nothing like him. Are you trying to save face by lying to me?” Okay, I admit George is a bit on the handsome side, but as the son of a factory owner, he spends all day in the workshop, not exactly dressed to impress. And here I was, with bandages on my face, swollen eyes, looking like an absolute toad. “Whatever, just give it to me. I don’t have time to waste on men like him.” “Wait a sec, why do you think my brother likes you?” I finally asked, unable to hold it in any longer. She huffed. “Your brother’s gaze lingered on me for ten seconds. Then, he looked straight into my eyes and said thank you. If that’s not a blatant invitation, I don’t know what is!” Mate, your eyeliner looks like it’s drawn with two thick ropes, and your lips are blood red. The fact my brother didn’t run away screaming is a miracle. I watched as she held out her phone with two fingers, as if she was doing me a favor. I slapped it out of her hand. “You’ve got some nerve! Did you get delusional after a pint? You’ve got a death wish if you think you can mess with me. What, did you walk straight out of surgery and forget to empty the rubbish in your brain? My sister-in-law could roll out of bed and still look twenty times better than you. Seriously, grab a mirror from Primark and have a reality check!” My tirade left everyone in the room frozen. I shoved past Jess and headed to my bed. Only to discover that my anger had hit a whole new level. My bed was covered in clothes and dirty socks—it looked like a landfill site. “Whose clothes are these? Clear them off, this is my bed.” Someone gave me a nudge, signaling with their eyes. “That’s Jess Price’s stuff.” “Jess, come clear your things.” I repeated. Jess snapped out of her daze and glared at me like her eyes were on fire. “You’re new here and don’t know the rules. At home, my mum always cleans up after me. I don’t do chores.” I looked around and saw a few sympathetic faces. Clearly, they had been dealing with her nonsense for quite some time. “You don’t do chores? Fine, I’ll handle it.” I rolled up my sleeves, gathered all the clothes on my bed, kicked open the door, and tossed them into the hallway. Someone had just mopped the floor, so the clothes landed in puddles. Couldn’t have timed it better. Jess’s mouth dropped, and she let out a high-pitched scream. “You’re mad! That was my favorite outfit!” “Was it? Well, that’s just brilliant, then,” I replied, shaking out my wrists, feeling thoroughly satisfied with myself. Jess was still screaming and hopping about, probably gearing up to hit me. But at 5’8″ and a regular at the gym, she quickly thought better of it. She glared at me one last time before stomping out of the room. A few minutes later, Mrs. Baines, our halls manager, arrived.

“She threw all my clothes on the floor! That dress alone costs over £200! She should pay me back—or get expelled!” Mrs. Baines turned to me, “Why did you throw her clothes out?” I smiled. “They were on my bed, which makes them my stuff. I could burn them if I wanted to.” “See, Mrs. Baines! She’s a troublemaker! No respect for you at all!” I smirked. “If you respected Mrs. Baines so much, why didn’t you tidy your clothes up before now? You knew I was moving in today, yet you dumped your stuff on my bed. I took it as a gift—shame I don’t wear trash.” Laughter erupted around the room. Jess’s face turned beetroot red. “Well, you shouldn’t have thrown them on the floor. You’re not the one cleaning up, where’s your sense of decency?” I cursed silently. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to clean up. What’s your problem?” I opened my suitcase, grinning at Mrs. Baines. “I haven’t unpacked yet—too much rubbish around. Might as well clean it all at once.” I proceeded to scrape the remains of someone’s watermelon rinds and discarded seeds from the table and threw them onto the pile of Jess’s clothes. I even gave it a couple of stomps for good measure. “Press it down—makes it easier to clean,” I said, smirking. Now the whole lot was drenched and covered in food. Useless. Jess let out another wail, her face drained of colour. “That’s enough!” Mrs. Baines said firmly, turning to Jess. “You all need to learn to live together. Sort these things out between yourselves.” After Mrs. Baines left, Jess shot me a venomous glare. I raised my head and said coldly, “Stop glaring—your contact lenses are slipping.” The other girls, finally free of Jess’s tyranny, were more than happy to help me unpack and introduce themselves. Jess, on the other hand, retreated to her bed, sulking behind the curtain. I still needed to pick up a few things, so I asked the girls for directions and headed out, mask and baseball cap on. It took me about half an hour to find the Sainsbury’s they mentioned. As soon as I walked in, I could feel the unfriendly stares. When I went to the checkout with my items, a guy cut in front of me and sneered to his mate: “See, even ugly bints go psycho.” “Course they do, mate. No blokes like her, so when other girls get attention, she just loses it.” Even I wasn’t thick enough not to realize they were talking about me. Bloody hell, it felt like I was in some twisted reality show where every episode was a new challenge. I slammed my items down on the counter and wedged myself between them. “What’s the gossip, then? Mind if I join?” They both looked shocked, stepping back involuntarily. I used the opportunity to slip in front of them, grinning. “Ugly girls are meant to be psycho, right? You two look like you know all about it.” Their faces turned a deep shade of red. “Who the hell are you calling ugly?” “You two, obviously.” They were left speechless. One of them, clearly more cocky than smart, rolled up his sleeves like he was ready to fight. I wasn’t having any of it. I grabbed an apple from my shopping bag and crushed it in one hand. Juice splattered everywhere, dripping down my fingers. I shot a glance downwards, and suddenly both blokes clamped their legs together in panic. “Bye now, boys!” I said cheerfully, striding out of the shop. It was clear this hadn’t just come out of nowhere. When I got back to the flat, I pulled Alice aside and asked if there was some sort of group chat I didn’t know about. She confirmed there was, and soon enough, she opened it up for me to see. The second I glanced at the screen, I was flooded with a barrage of disgusting images and hateful messages. It turned out Jess had been posting edited pictures of me, painting herself as the victim of some grand bullying conspiracy. One of her latest messages read: “I don’t even know what I did to upset her! I just asked if she wanted to grab lunch, and she smashed all my makeup. I’m honestly scared.” The photo beneath it? A close-up of her tear-streaked face, long lashes glistening with tears, her pink cheeks smudged with mascara. Just peeking into the corner of the shot? Her legs, perfectly positioned to look long and slender. Most of the group was made up of guys, and they were falling over themselves to defend her. The whole lot of them were calling me every name under the sun, especially attacking my looks. I asked Alice to add me to the group. Time to go to war. TouristA: “@SunsetInLA, you’re the kind of bloke who wipes his greasy face with a dingy old towel, scarred with acne, all while eating a six-quid ready meal. You steal someone else’s selfie for your profile pic and then go commenting under every pretty girl’s post, ‘Wanna cry in my Ferrari?’” TouristA: “@MountainMan, no girls like you, your mates laugh behind your back, and you scrape together £13 in your bank account, buy a takeaway, and use your last quid to pay for a three-day Netflix trial. Screenshot the receipt and post it to Insta: ‘You’ll never understand my pain. You don’t deserve my loyalty.’” TouristA: “@LongLegsYouCan’tTouch, your love’s like those flyers people hand out in the street. Everybody gets one. Your bank account? About as consistent as your morals—sometimes full, but usually empty.” TouristA: “@ChooChooMaster, you’ll drink yourself stupid tonight and try to pull anything with a pulse. You fancy yourself a ladies’ man, but mate, look in the mirror—what kind of salad do you think you are?” The group chat blew up. SunsetInLA: “Who the hell let this one in? Come out and say your name if you’ve got the guts!” MountainMan: “Oi! I never buy the three-day trial! I get the full month, you twat!” TouristA: “@MountainMan, what kind of bin bag do you use, mate? You can stuff a lot in there.” TouristA: “@SunsetInLA, I don’t hide my name, mate. Your daddy’s here.” The chat descended into chaos. Finally, Jess—going by the name SpanishSunset in the group—spoke up: “See, guys? This is exactly what I have to deal with. She’s bullying me like this all day, just like she did earlier.” SunsetInLA: “Don’t worry, Sunset. I’ve got your back. TouristA, how about we meet face-to-face and see if you still have the balls to insult me?” TouristA: “@SunsetInLA, if I insult you in person and you don’t get it, shall I carve it on your gravestone?” ChooChooMaster: “SpanishSunset, don’t cry. She’s just jealous because you’re beautiful. You’re everything she’ll never be, so she lashes out. Proper backup girl.” TouristA: “@ChooChooMaster, you reckon everyone’s a spare tyre because you think you’re a jack. Ain’t no one calling you, mate.” Alice was practically on the floor, laughing and giving me a thumbs up. My fingers were flying across the keyboard at this point, nearly sparking fire from the speed. The group was in absolute shambles. Only a few stragglers managed to spit out some feeble insults, but they were met with more of my jabs. Finally, the chat quieted down. Jess, or SpanishSunset, sent a voice message: “Please stop being so mean to everyone. I’ll apologise, okay? Just take it out on me from now on. They’re my sweet boys, I don’t want them hurt.” What a pure and delicate little flower she was. Not. TouristA: “@SpanishSunset, is your family in the antiques business? You call everyone ‘darling’?” TouristA: “@SpanishSunset, you think you’re so desirable, but honestly, you’re cheap and overused.” TouristA: “@SpanishSunset, with all these backups, your car must be an absolute wreck.” Suddenly, a notification popped up. TouristA had been booted from the ‘We’re All Mates’ group. Well, I’ll be damned. They kicked me out when they couldn’t handle the heat. Did they really think I’d just let it go? I flipped out of bed like a gymnast and yanked open Jess’s curtain. She froze, hands still poised over her phone, clearly typing away in the chat. Her entire body went rigid.

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I’ve decided to let go of Daniel. It didn’t start with anything major, really. It was just one of those research group meetings when Bella walked in with a cup of soya milk and a bacon roll. Danny, always indulging her, covered for her: “Bella’s young, she’s a bit of a foodie. Let’s be kind.” Everyone chuckled and joked around, and their eyes, knowingly or not, drifted towards me. Only my friend Rachel stood up for me: “Danny, that’s not fair! Ellie had a stomach bug last time and wanted to eat something, and you wouldn’t let her!” The room fell silent for a moment. Danny’s face darkened. “Ellie, are you acting out again? If you want to throw a tantrum, this isn’t the place for it. No one here is going to coddle you.” “Exactly. Always attention-seeking,” someone muttered under their breath. I sighed inwardly. It all just felt so pointless. I took off my name badge and looked up at Danny. “I’m quitting the research group.” The words hung in the air as the older students tried to calm me down. After all, getting into this research group meant a chance at a postgraduate scholarship. “It’s fine. My mind’s made up. I’ll go and explain everything to the professor later.” “Are you throwing a fit again? Do you really need everyone to revolve around you? It’s just letting Bella have her breakfast, do you have to be so petty about it?” Danny’s tone was cold and laced with impatience. I looked him square in the eye and explained, “I’m not throwing a fit. It’s just…” I pointed at a few people, “Her, him, her—they’re only here because of Bella’s connections. They do the least work, but they gossip the most. I’m tired of being in this kind of environment.” Honestly, I was exhausted, playing along and going through the motions with them. The people I pointed out turned pale, their heads down, avoiding my gaze. The others stayed silent, but Bella started to cry. “Ellie, what have I ever done to you? Why embarrass me in front of everyone?” she sobbed. “They’re just my classmates. If they don’t get a few extra credits from joining the research group, they’ll fail. I was just trying to help them, and Danny agreed to it too.” I nodded, “Sure, Bella. But the research group isn’t yours alone. You help them, and we’re all supposed to bear the consequences. Is that your idea of fairness?” “That’s enough! Ellie, you’re acting like you’ve gone mad. If I’m willing to take responsibility for her, what does it matter to you?” That hit like a slap across my face. I was flushed with anger and confusion. Was this really the same Danny who used to protect me? But his next words buried me completely. “Ellie’s got some mental health issues, Bella. Don’t take her words too seriously. She has her moments.” Danny took out a tissue and gently wiped Bella’s tears. “Really? She doesn’t seem like it,” Bella glanced at me, curiosity and disdain in her eyes. “Oh, it’s true. I even have her diagnosis,” Danny added, casually. My heart, which had been raised up so high, was now slammed down, shattering into pieces. I suddenly remembered how, when I was seven, Danny had chased away some bullies and wiped my tears in exactly the same way, promising he’d always be on my side. Now, he was cruelly ripping open my wounds, just to comfort another girl.

Leaving the group wasn’t easy. The professor said he was too busy at the moment and asked if I could stay a bit longer. I reluctantly agreed. I tried to go in only on days when Danny wasn’t there. But part of me still wondered, would he notice and come find me? After all, years of habits aren’t easily broken. One evening, after finishing an experiment, I was walking back to the dorms when a tall figure appeared in the middle of the path. I turned to leave, but Danny caught up with me. “Ellie!” He grabbed my hand, “Why have you been avoiding me?” I tried to pull away, but he firmly placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me around to face him. His gaze softened, “Are you angry with me?” I turned my head, refusing to look at him. He chuckled, “Ellie, are you jealous? I didn’t mean to side with Bella. It’s just… her dad’s our biggest investor. I can’t afford to upset her. How about this? From now on, I’ll let you have breakfast in the meeting room too?” I looked at him seriously for the first time, “Danny, this isn’t about breakfast.” He knew perfectly well that I’d been struggling with some personal issues. There were nights when I couldn’t sleep at all, leaving me mentally exhausted, but I wasn’t the “mental case” he made me out to be. Did he ever stop to think about that? His eyes flickered. He knew exactly what I was getting at. Then, he pulled something out of his pocket and slipped it onto my wrist. Under the streetlight, I saw what it was—a finely polished silver bracelet. “Ellie, you’ve always wanted one of those silver bracelets that girls get from their parents. I saved up to get you one, but silver seemed too cheap for you. So, I bought a gold one and had it coated in silver.” People are often bound by the things they desired but could never have in their youth. At that moment, when I saw the bracelet, my heart softened. From childhood to now, Danny had always been by my side. He was like a friend, a brother, and, admittedly, I’d started to have feelings for him that I probably shouldn’t have. Besides him, there was no one else I could rely on. Maybe… maybe I should forgive him. Later, back in my dorm, I thought it over for a long time before finally sending him a cheeky emoji. He responded in kind, sending one back, along with a swimming ticket, asking if I wanted to go swimming tomorrow. But my smile faded. Had he forgotten? Tomorrow was the first day of my period.

The next day, I decided to go anyway. I put on light makeup, but I didn’t bring a swimsuit. I figured Danny was just busy and hadn’t paid attention to my schedule. I’d just sit by the pool and watch him swim. When I arrived, there was already a group of people at the entrance, both boys and girls, and Bella was right there among them. As I walked up, I noticed a few of the boys exchange glances, smirking. “Bit boring, isn’t it? Figures the ones without a decent figure wouldn’t want to show it off. She’s not all that after all. I much prefer girls who aren’t shy,” one of them said with a sneer. I frowned. Bella giggled behind her hand, “Can’t help it, can you? Some people are just… small-minded. Makes you wonder why Danny even invited her.” Danny’s face was dark, probably a bit embarrassed, “I told you to bring your swimsuit. How are you going to swim in a T-shirt and trousers?” “I’m on my period.” So, he had forgotten. Danny’s brows furrowed, clearly annoyed. “Of course it’s today. But swimming during your period isn’t a big deal, is it?” I stayed silent. Realising his words were off, he tugged at my sleeve apologetically. “Come on, Ellie. I’m not a girl. Cut me some slack for not knowing.” Then, he suddenly turned to the group and said, “You know, last time Ellie embarrassed Bella in front of everyone. That’s why I invited her today, so she could apologise properly.” I stared at him in disbelief. “Why should I apologise?” Why should I apologise to Bella? She was the one bringing her friends into the research group for free credit. How was this suddenly my fault? Danny pulled me aside, whispering urgently, “Ellie, think about the bigger picture. I need this research to secure a job with a top firm. You don’t want us to struggle for the rest of our lives, do you?” I caught the real meaning in his words. “Us? Struggling?” “Yeah.” He turned back to face me, his tone indifferent, with just a hint of disdain. “Ellie, I know you’ve always liked me. And I like you too. If you apologise to Bella, I’ll agree to be with you. If not, I’ll just start dating her instead.” He suddenly sounded so… lofty, as if he were offering me a priceless gift. “After all, we’ve known each other for over a decade. I can’t just throw that away. Apologise, stay in the research group, help me, and we’ll be together.” I took a step back, looking Danny up and down, and shook my head slowly. “You’re so full of yourself.” “What?” He didn’t hear me properly. Habits are a dangerous thing. Danny and I had practically grown up together, from primary school to secondary school, and now university. After so much time, I’d gotten used to him. I relied on him. I even thought I loved him. Danny was a year older than me. I’d been fostered by my uncle since I was a child, and Danny was the boy next door. Back then, kids showed their feelings so plainly. If my cousin disliked me, the entire group of children in the area would ostracise me. But Danny was different. He always brought an extra snack for me, included me in games, made sure I wasn’t left out. Honestly, the warmth of my childhood came entirely from Danny. He knew how to keep me under his thumb. I had always listened to him, always done as he asked. But ever since that breakfast incident, I felt… tired. Tired of him. Tired of everything. In the middle of our standoff, the swimming instructor came over. “If you’re going to swim, make sure you’re careful.” The instructor handed me a chair and said kindly, “You’ve been holding your stomach. Must be your period, right? My daughter looks exactly like you during hers. So pale, poor thing.” I instinctively touched my face. Was it that obvious? If a stranger could see it, surely Danny knew too?

“Think about it, alright?” Danny said, before heading back to Bella and the others. “Oh, and remember to book the restaurant for dinner later,” he added as if it were nothing. I didn’t move. I watched as Danny pulled out a bag of drinks and handed Bella the only one in unique packaging. Everyone else got the same kind. Bella blushed, and the group burst into playful teasing. Suddenly, I was reminded of playing house when we were children. Danny had done the same thing back then. He bought a load of lollipops and gave the prettiest girl the only special one, asking her to play his wife. The rest of us got the regular ones. He won our loyalty and achieved what he wanted. All the kids ate theirs straight away, but I held onto mine, tucking it away because it was the first treat I’d ever been given just for me. Later, when Danny found out, he bought me a few more, but never that special one. I couldn’t help but laugh softly. I always knew he was using the simplest tactics to manipulate people, and I was his most successful target, quietly playing along. I was never the special one. I was just another fish caught in his wide net. On the way to dinner, as usual, I carried everyone’s bags and lagged behind. By the time I reached the private room, Danny had already texted me, saying he’d ordered food. I was still halfway there. It’s funny, I’ve always trailed behind Danny, so used to him walking ahead while I followed. When I reached the door, I overheard Bella talking. “Danny, how did you manage to get Ellie to apologise to me? She’s famous for being an ice queen, never talks to anyone.” “Don’t worry,” Danny replied, “you saw how I made her carry all our bags. Apologising is nothing compared to that.” “She’s been like a dog following me around since we were kids. Give her a scrap of attention, and she’ll follow you anywhere. Besides me, she’s got no one else to rely on.” A few of the boys chuckled, chiming in to flatter him and tear me down. I paused, hand raised to knock, then slowly let it fall back down. Instead, I quietly set the bags by the door and stood there, listening. “Danny, you’re the man! What did you say to Ellie to make her so loyal?” “Yeah, Danny, you’re so lucky. Ellie on one side, Bella on the other.” I heard Danny laugh lightly. “It’s nothing, really. She’s just starved for affection. Give her a little kindness, and she’ll go to the ends of the earth for you. But don’t get me wrong, I’m only into Bella. Ellie’s… well, she’s just a bit pathetic, to be honest.” The room filled with laughter. Strangely, I didn’t feel anything. No anger, no sadness. Just a vague sense of boredom. Like sitting in a room, waiting for it to collapse into dust. And slowly, I began to see the light again. I left the bags at the door and went to grab a bowl of noodles. I bought myself some cakes too and felt warm all over as I ate. Later, I found someone from the university’s delivery service and had them return all of Danny’s things to him, including that bracelet. It wasn’t real silver, and definitely not gold. The moment I put it on, I could tell. I’m not stupid. I’d just been playing along, deceiving myself.

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After I died, a humanoid robot took my place and stayed by my husband’s side. Edward didn’t notice anything strange about me. Every day, he spent time with his first love, Sophia, just to enjoy watching me suffer—longing, desperate, and hysterical. But a machine can’t mimic human emotions. It could only interpret my love for Edward as following a set of commands. It didn’t understand jealousy, nor could it feel anger. Until one day, Sophia pushed me off the balcony of the Penthouse. My metal frame twisted from the impact. Edward rushed over. For the first time, he was close enough to me, just one look away from realising something was wrong. A loud crash echoed through the room. Edward dropped his glass and rushed over. But when he saw me lying there, his worry quickly morphed into disgust. The one who pushed me, Sophia, stood at the top of the stairs, feigning tears as she began her act. “Edward, Emma reached out to push me, but she slipped and fell herself.” Edward didn’t spare me a glance, striding straight over to Sophia. “Are you all right, Sophia? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” He checked her thoroughly, and after confirming that not a single hair on his beloved’s head was out of place, he finally exhaled in relief. Then, in a show of rare condescension, he turned to look at me. I was sprawled on the floor in a terribly undignified position, motionless. “Emma Parker, you’re as stupid as you are cruel! Crawling around on the floor like a dog—what, did you think this would make me care about you? That I’d pay you some attention?” He’d clearly seen the slight dent in the floor where I’d landed, but there wasn’t even a hint of concern in his eyes. When I didn’t move, he shouted, irritated, “Stop playing dead! Do you think pretending will make me feel guilty? Get up and apologise to Sophia!” I heard his command, my head twitched slightly, but then I let it fall back down. Edward’s expression darkened. “Emma Parker, stop testing my patience! Apologise to Sophia, or I’ll personally have you thrown into a cell!” He stood over me, certain I’d obey as I always had. But I stayed down, motionless except for a faint twitch in my leg. Sophia, playing the part of a concerned friend, chimed in, “Edward, maybe you should check on her? What if something’s really wrong?” Despite her words, she remained clinging tightly to Edward, making no effort to move. Edward let out a cold laugh, indifferent. “She didn’t even cry out. She’ll be fine. It’s just the fifth floor, she’s not dead—maybe crippled at worst. And if anything has happened, well, she’s brought it on herself.” There was such venom in his voice, so much malice. If he could, I’m sure he would have been delighted to see me die right there. Unfortunately for him, he was bound to be disappointed. Because the one lying on the floor wasn’t the real me. It was just a humanoid robot, almost indistinguishable from the real thing. Of course, the machine didn’t scream in pain. It didn’t feel pain. And it couldn’t die. Though my soul was bound to the robot, I couldn’t control it. It was sophisticated enough to function on its own—it had only crashed due to the severe impact.

The system rebooted quickly. “You could drop dead, and I still wouldn’t feel like looking at you. No matter how much you act, I’ll never come down to help.” As Edward spat out those words, I slowly rose, though my right leg was grotesquely twisted. This odd movement only made him more certain I was putting on a performance, and he lifted his chin, satisfied with himself. Sophia gasped dramatically. “Edward, look at Emma’s leg—it looks so strange!” “She’s only broken a bone, that’s all. Dogs can break a leg and be fine in a few days. She’s hardly worse than an animal.” Edward’s remark made Sophia laugh, and she giggled uncontrollably. “Yes, and Emma has a knack for escaping death. You saved her after that lorry accident, and now she’s fallen from the penthouse without a scratch!” As she spoke, Edward’s face grew darker, his hatred for me barely contained. I knew he’d always regretted saving me. The day he sent Sophia off to study abroad, I learned for the first time that she was the one he couldn’t let go of. Distracted by the news, I hadn’t noticed the lorry speeding toward me. He acted on impulse, pushing me out of the way, but in the end, it was his legs that were crushed. For a professional ballroom dancer, losing your legs was worse than death. Every day after that, Edward’s resentment for me grew. “She’s no miracle survivor—she’s a bloody curse. First, she cost me my legs, and now she wants to take you away too!” His anger boiled over, and he kicked me hard in the leg. My already misshapen limb bent even further, emitting a faint crackling noise. Edward paused, suspicious, but the sound soon stopped. He composed himself again and barked, “Go and make some tea for Sophia to apologise.” I nodded obediently and hobbled to fetch the tea. Sophia turned her nose up as I approached, clinging to Edward’s arm like a spoiled child. “Edward, I don’t think Emma’s really sorry. She brought me cold tea, after all. I want it scalding hot.” I went back, prepared fresh tea, and brought it to her again. This time, she intentionally let go of the cup. “Oh no!” Even though the entire cup spilled onto my leg, it was Sophia who cried out in distress. “Edward, my leg! I think I’ve been burned!” Edward hurriedly rolled up her trouser leg, revealing nothing more than a faint red mark on her smooth skin. “Emma Parker, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?!” I stared blankly at the synthetic skin on my own leg, where the hot tea had scalded me, and muttered numbly, “It wasn’t on purpose.” Sophia, pretending not to hear, sobbed louder. “Emma, I know you don’t like me, but this is too much! You’re just jealous that Edward and I can still dance ballroom together, aren’t you? Fine, I won’t dance with him anymore.” Edward was fuming, desperate to console her, and in his rage, he slapped me hard across the face. “You spiteful woman! All you ever do is cause trouble! Now, clean up that mess from the floor with your tongue, and then give Sophia a proper apology.”

I used to be a proud woman. The only time I ever put my pride aside was when I knelt and begged that strange doctor, Dr. Vincent, to make prosthetic legs for Edward. I would’ve traded my life for it, without hesitation. If I were still alive, I’d have screamed at Edward, not caring about anything else. But the machine didn’t understand humiliation. To it, the command was just that—a command. It had inherited all my memories, and its core programming was to love Edward. So no matter what orders he gave, it would follow them without question. And right now, I was licking the spilled tea off the floor like a dog, utterly devoid of dignity. The machine couldn’t comprehend emotions. I thought that by obeying Edward, he would be satisfied. Maybe even happy. “Emma Parker, you’ve really surprised me.” His expression shifted to something more complicated, as though he wanted to take a closer look at my injuries. But just then, Sophia let out a feeble cry, collapsing softly into his arms. Edward scooped her up immediately and rushed her out. He was so close. If he’d only looked a little longer, he might have seen the faint glint of metal under my skin. After they left, I connected to a power source and entered standby mode. Staring at the burnt synthetic skin, I felt a rising sense of fear, even though I was already dead. I couldn’t help but think back to the day Dr. Vincent came to me. Edward had been in a rage, smashing everything in the hospital room, while I stood outside, hiding my tears in my hands. Normal prosthetics could let him walk again, but they’d never be as fluid as real legs. “I can make prosthetic legs as good as the real thing,” Dr. Vincent had told me, “but you’ll have to agree to be my test subject in exchange.” “I agree.” Vincent had looked at me, surprised by my quick response, and raised an eyebrow. “Think carefully before you answer. You’ll endure a lot of pain and die in the process. After you’re dead, I’ll replace you with a humanoid robot. That’s part of the experiment.” Edward had saved my life once. In return, I would give him back his legs. In my mind, that made us even. But even knowing what was to come, I hadn’t expected the experiment to be so brutal. To create an exact replica of me, Vincent had to remove the skin from different parts of my body, piece by piece, for testing. The final step was opening up my brain to create a memory chip. By the time I died, there wasn’t a single patch of skin on my body left unscathed. In my agony, I’d begged Dr. Vincent to make one last call to Edward. I just wanted to hear his voice one final time. But the call went unanswered, and Vincent—tired of my requests—told me that Edward had blocked my number. “I almost feel sorry for you.” Vincent had said, switching on a surveillance camera. The screen showed Edward carefully tending to the roses in the passenger seat of his car, smiling as he drove to the airport. Soon, Sophia appeared at the arrivals gate, and they embraced tightly. The people around them were cheering. “Kiss! Kiss!” Edward brushed a strand of hair away from Sophia’s face and kissed her passionately. Vincent turned to me and asked, “Do you regret giving up your life for his legs?”

The sharp ring of a phone broke through my thoughts. I unplugged the charging cable and answered almost immediately. “Emma, Sophia’s craving your chicken noodle soup. Make it and bring it to St. George’s Hospital now.” Edward barked the command and hung up before I could respond. I quickly prepared the soup and hailed a cab to the hospital. When I opened the door to Sophia’s private room, Edward was sitting by her bedside, gently stroking her shoulder, whispering soothing words until she drifted off to sleep. As soon as he saw me, his tender demeanor vanished. He carefully lowered Sophia’s head onto the pillow, then dragged me out into the hallway, his grip rough and angry. “Are you doing this on purpose, Emma? Taking your sweet time, knowing full well Sophia was waiting for you!” Without waiting for an answer, he opened the thermos, and before I could react, he dumped the soup straight into the rubbish bin. Edward’s face was like stone, his jaw clenched with the effort to contain his rage. He looked ready to lash out at me again, but the sound of crying from the room pulled his attention back to Sophia. He threw me one last furious glare and rushed back inside. “Edward, don’t worry about me. My kidney failure is getting worse… That’s why I left you all those years ago—to seek treatment abroad. But there’s been no donor. I’m dying… I just wanted to come home and see you one last time.” “It won’t come to that. Don’t say such things.” Edward gritted his teeth, his voice tight with the effort of reassurance. “You’re the one who found Dr. Vincent. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to walk, let alone dance. I owe you everything. I’ll donate my kidney to you. I won’t let you suffer.” I stood frozen. My mind couldn’t process what I’d just heard. It was me who had sacrificed everything to give Edward his legs back, not Sophia. Sophia glanced at me over Edward’s shoulder, a smug, taunting glimmer in her eyes as she wrapped herself more tightly around him. “Edward, I’ll never take your kidney. You need both to stay healthy, and if you only have one, you’ll never be able to dance again. But maybe Emma could give me hers? She doesn’t do much with her life. What’s the harm in losing a kidney?” Edward considered the suggestion and slowly turned toward me. “Emma, why don’t you give Sophia your kidney? I’ll be good to you. I’ll take care of you.” I shook my head and answered plainly, “I can’t.” To Edward, it must have seemed like I was being difficult, selfish. But in truth, I literally couldn’t donate my kidney. The body I was trapped in was full of wires and metal, not organs. Edward’s face twisted with fury, interpreting my refusal as cold indifference. “What do you mean you can’t? Are you really so heartless that you’d let her die? I can’t believe I ever saved someone as selfish as you.” He raised his voice, shouting, “I gave you your life back! You owe me this! You can’t just refuse!” Human emotions are messy and complicated, too complex for a machine to grasp. But as a robot, I could only repeat myself mechanically, “I can’t.” It wasn’t hard to see that Edward was on the verge of losing control. He glared at me, his voice dropping to an icy tone. “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling you, Emma, you will donate that kidney.” The machine received his command. Despite how unnatural it seemed to comply, my programming—rooted in love and obedience—made me slowly nod in agreement. Edward’s anger melted into relief as he called for a doctor, watching eagerly as I was wheeled into surgery. He held Sophia close, his eyes gleaming with joy. “Sophia, we’ll be back to dancing together in no time.” But their joy didn’t last long. The surgeon emerged from the operating room, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Are you having a laugh? This isn’t a person! It’s… It’s a machine!”

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I’m the heroine of a dark, twisted romance. In the dim light of a narrow alleyway, a group of homeless men fastened their belts and walked away, satisfied. I lay there, like a discarded, soulless doll, the scene making it painfully clear what had just happened. Next, according to the script, the male lead should appear and take me away. I was supposed to be ashamed, weak, and view him as my saviour. He said we were brought together by those homeless men, that they’d been instrumental in our “fate.” He even rewarded them, giving them jobs that made them rich. But after I was reborn, I stared at those repulsive faces and pulled a leather belt from my pocket. The belt wasn’t just thick layers of leather—it had a steel plate hidden inside, making it brutally powerful. How could these animals deserve a happy life? The air was thick and sticky with dampness. It was one in the morning—no one would walk through this dark, unlit alleyway. I lay on the ground, my clothes in tatters, and I could still hear the men’s angry shouts fading away. Tears of despair slipped down my cheeks. I’d been too late. Just a little more, and I might have escaped all of this. It wasn’t until the moment of my death in my past life that I truly woke up. I was the heroine of a twisted, dark romance. When I was 18, walking home from school, I was assaulted by a group of homeless men. I felt humiliated, furious, but the sounds coming from my mouth were disgusting—like I wasn’t even resisting. Later, a man appeared at the mouth of the alley. He draped a coat over me, covering my shame. His name was Gareth Thompson, and he became my husband. He didn’t care about my “broken” body. In fact, he was obsessed with it. I was insecure and weak. Over time, I found myself in the beds of many other men, though I didn’t understand why. I felt guilty. I worshipped Gareth, agreeing to everything he said—even when he gave the men who had attacked me great jobs, helping them get rich. He told me if it weren’t for those men, we wouldn’t have been brought together. But just before I died, I finally understood the truth. Gareth had been watching me from the start. Those men were his doing. He had arranged the attack so he could rescue me, pull me from hell, and make me worship him. That way, I’d be completely devoted to him. As for why I ended up in the beds of strangers? Gareth had arranged that, too. He gave me away to his business partners and rivals in exchange for deals. He didn’t care about my affairs with other men. In fact, he enjoyed it. Watching me with them made him feel… excited. I’d been deceived my entire life, unable to muster even a shred of will for myself. I was nothing more than an object, a toy, a pet, something to be used, but never a person. I was just a tool for men to take out their lust on. And my death? It came from a heart attack, induced by an overdose of drugs. I didn’t live to see thirty. By the time I died, I was skin and bones, unrecognizable. This wasn’t just a twisted romance—it was pure cruelty. Thank God I got another chance at life. But I was still too late.

When I realised I’d been reborn, the same group of men had just pinned me to the ground. I struggled desperately, my mind screaming at me to run. If only I could escape this alley, none of it would happen. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t control my body. It felt like an invisible hand was crushing my heart. Those disgusting sounds, the stench, it all made me sick as I went through the assault again, fully conscious this time. But my mind was firm. If fate had given me a second chance, it wasn’t so I could die again. I just needed to survive this moment. Everything could change after that. I don’t know how long it took before they were done. Just like before, they buckled their belts and walked away. Finally, I could move again, the force controlling me was gone. I regained control of my body. This time, I didn’t lie there in despair, helplessly crying like before. Using all my strength, I picked myself up, dressed in my torn clothes, and ran towards the alley’s entrance. Gareth was waiting there, just like in my past life. He reached out a hand, looking at me with that same concerned expression as before. He looked like a saint, full of pity, as though he were looking down on a worshipper. He was waiting for me to beg him for help. I lowered my head and murmured, “Excuse me, sir. Did you see the men who just assaulted me?” Gareth’s flawless expression cracked. “What? What do you mean?” he stammered. I smiled, coldly. “Surely you saw them? You were standing right here the whole time.” Without waiting for his reply, I walked past him. I clutched my chest, whispering to myself, “Not yet.” Right now, I was nothing more than a helpless schoolgirl. Even though my heart burned with hatred, I couldn’t touch Gareth. Not yet. He was probably watching me walk away, wondering how to bring me more pain before swooping in again as my saviour. When I got home, the house was empty. Mum and Dad must have gone out looking for me. Just as I picked up the landline to call Mum, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

When I got home, the house was empty. Mum and Dad must have gone out looking for me. Just as I reached for the phone to call Mum, a familiar voice called from behind me. “Becky, where have you been?” It was my mum. My eyes filled with tears, and I ran into her arms. Mum looked down at my clothes and realised something was wrong. She didn’t ask questions, just held me tight, stroking my back. I cried until I could barely breathe, until I had no tears left. I cried for all the pain, in this life and the last. In my past life, I didn’t try to reach out to my parents after I left with Gareth. He had told me that after what had happened, my parents would be ashamed of me. I wanted to deny it, but I ended up nodding anyway. A week later, I got the news that a fire had destroyed my family home. My parents died in that fire. I didn’t even attend their funeral. Dad arrived home, and I continued to cry—my eyes were swollen, my throat hoarse. This time, after I finished crying, I swore to myself I would never cry so easily again. In my past life, I had cried too many times, in the arms of different men, in Gareth’s arms. Now, every tear I had shed because of desire disgusted me. I told my parents everything that had happened. Dad’s face turned red with rage. He looked like he could kill those men with his bare hands. Mum aged visibly in that moment. She held me again, gently asking if I wanted to clean myself up. I shook my head. “Mum, Dad, we need to call the police. I can’t wash. The evidence is still on me. I need to make sure those monsters pay.” 4 Sergeant Clarke and his team, wanting to protect my privacy, took me to St. Thomas’ Hospital with my parents for an examination. They collected evidence, and I was given post-exposure medication. Constable Sarah Harris stayed with me, trying to counsel me, but I wasn’t broken. I stayed calm. I’d lived through this moment over and over in my head. I knew what had to be done. I gave the police a detailed account of everything—how I was assaulted, how they hit me, and how they held me down. The marks on my body, the bruises, and the torn hair were proof of it all. Mum was on the verge of fainting from crying. “My Becky, my poor Becky…” With the DNA evidence collected, it wasn’t long before the identities of those men were confirmed. The police arrested them quickly, but the men denied everything, claiming it was consensual. Because I was eighteen, they said if they could prove I consented, they wouldn’t be charged. One of the officers lost it. “You’re saying an eighteen-year-old schoolgirl voluntarily had sex with a group of middle-aged homeless men and let them beat her senseless? Have you no shame?” One of them smirked, showing no care. “Don’t believe us? We’ve got a witness.” Their witness was Gareth. “Yes, I was there,” Gareth said calmly. “The girl seemed willing. I didn’t see any struggle. She was making all the right noises.” Gareth looked at me, his eyes full of something different from before. His smile was smug, knowing. At the police station, he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Becky, you’ve come back too, haven’t you?” “There’s no point fighting. You enjoyed it, didn’t you? I know you better than anyone. I know exactly how much your body loves being treated like that.” “Becky, I’m waiting for you to return to me.” 5 slapped him. When I saw the mark on his right cheek, I frowned. It wasn’t even. So I slapped the left side too. Even with all my strength, the slaps left only faint pink marks. Like me—barely there, with no real weight. Gareth just grinned, licking his lips like I’d done something entertaining. It was ridiculous. A slap from a woman is often seen as flirting, not a serious blow. “Becky, you’ve learned to hit,” he said, amused. “But I prefer it when you bite me in bed.” I stared coldly at him and kicked him in the crotch. Gareth’s expression finally changed as he grabbed my shoulders in a vice-like grip. “Becky, I’ll tolerate your little outbursts, but don’t push me.” I couldn’t break free, so I kicked him again. Then, I pulled out the leather belt I hadn’t had a chance to use earlier and struck the cheek I’d just slapped. Finally, Gareth’s face started to swell, blood seeping from his mouth. He looked hideous. “You disgust me, Gareth.” He finally let go, feeling the pain, glaring at me with hate. “Rebecca Swift, you’ll regret this!” 6 The court’s verdict was announced. The homeless men were found guilty of assault, having committed the crime not only in a public place but as a group. They were sentenced to life imprisonment, with two of them receiving the death penalty. On the day of the trial, I went there myself, carrying my new identification. After talking it over with my parents, I had chosen a new name for myself. From that day onwards, I was no longer Rebecca Swift. I became Rebecca Steel, with a name as tough as iron. My parents didn’t fully understand why I had given myself such a “masculine” name, but they supported me regardless. “Maybe when you first named me Becky, you hoped I’d spend my whole life sheltered under your wings, happy and safe without needing to show any strength.” But that name, which now felt like a typical romantic heroine’s name, only made me feel sick. For the first time, I saw fear on the faces of those men. Gareth wasn’t there. I knew by now that they had been abandoned. But even so, they refused to name Gareth as their accomplice. As they walked past me, those once lust-filled eyes were now filled with hatred and regret. If you do something wrong, you deserve to face the consequences. I pulled out my leather belt and carefully traced its length, putting all my strength into it. Half an hour later, five swollen, pig-like faces had emerged. No one stopped me. Everyone understood the rage burning inside me. I took a six-month break from everything and returned to school, enrolling in a retake class to finish the final year I hadn’t completed in my past life. I arranged to live on campus and avoided that alley at all costs. Life at school was peaceful. In the final year, everyone was too busy to notice a classmate who had been missing for a while. But news of my assault spread like wildfire, and soon the school bulletin board was plastered with photos from that night. It turned out that Gareth hadn’t just been standing there at the alley’s entrance—he’d had the audacity to take pictures. When the photos appeared on the notice board, Gareth was on a visit to the school as an honoured alumnus, giving a speech. The headteacher was showing him around when they came across the photos on display. The students gathered around the board, too shocked to move, whispering quietly to one another. My face and body weren’t blurred out, and everyone immediately recognised their classmate. Their stares were like fire on my skin, burning through me. I even heard a boy mutter under his breath. “Who would’ve thought Rebecca Steel had such a hot body?” “Yeah, mate. I’ve only seen that kind of thing in porn…” How disgusting. I turned and looked at Gareth, standing far away with a smug expression on his face. I was trembling, but tears of laughter streamed down my face. Gareth, oh Gareth, so this is the best you can do?

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After six years of chasing him, James “Jamie” Dawson finally agreed to be with me. I was over the moon. That is, until the day I overheard him talking to his mates. “You mean Mari Bennett? She’s just been my little lapdog for six years.” “She’s not bad looking, though. That’s why I didn’t ditch her. Kept her around to make Nate feel a bit jealous, remind her not to pick fights with me all the time.” The “Mari Bennett” he mentioned was me. And Nate—Natalie “Nate” Carter—was his ex-girlfriend of three years. Jamie had clearly had a few too many drinks; his words were slurred. “If you fancy Mari, mate, you should’ve said earlier. I’d have let you have a go.” Jamie transferred to our class in our final year of A-levels, causing a massive stir in school. With his high cheekbones, sharp brows, 6’1” height, and short, slightly tousled hair, he stood out from the rest of the stressed, pale-faced students. There was something about him—cool, detached—that made him hard to ignore. My best mate, Chloe Mitchell, said at least six out of every ten girls fancied him. I was no exception. I’d liked Jamie since I was 18. Six years had passed since then. I had always thought he liked me too. Back then, I was going through an awkward phase—teenage weight gain, spots, the works. Not exactly ugly, but definitely not the prettiest. Still, whenever some of the boys teased me about being too fat to ever get married, Jamie would step in. “If losing weight means marrying someone like you, better to stay as I am,” he’d quip. When they complained that I was blocking their phone signals with my size, Jamie would just laugh, “Maybe it’s time for you to upgrade your phone.” Rumours about me and Jamie started to spread in the class. Of course, they were all about how I was a toad lusting after a swan, thinking too highly of myself, or how I was desperate. So I started keeping my distance from Jamie on purpose. Then, during our New Year’s party, there was a game that required boys and girls to team up. I was sure no one would pick me, and the others were probably waiting to laugh at me when Jamie, to everyone’s surprise, took my hand. He leaned in and whispered softly, “Mari, why have you been avoiding me lately? Did I do something wrong?” “When you ignore me like that, it feels like there’s something missing.” I kept telling myself that his words didn’t mean anything. Jamie couldn’t possibly like me. Yet, I still couldn’t stop my face from turning bright red. In our final term, when we were all cramming for exams, I did two things: studied and tutored Jamie. Jamie was smart, but it’s harder to improve your score the higher you already are. It’s like how a student scoring 200 marks can easily improve to 300, but getting from 600 to 700 is nearly impossible. But in our three mock exams, I watched as Jamie went from 550 to 590, then to 620. Our teachers and classmates couldn’t believe it. And as Jamie’s compliments and encouragement came pouring in, I started to feel more confident too. The snide comments from our classmates faded, replaced by talk of how we made a good match, a “power couple,” as they called it. “Do you think Jamie’s working so hard because he wants to go to the University of London with Mari?” someone joked. “Definitely. With his family’s money, why bother studying this hard unless he’s got a reason?” “He’s improved by 70 points in one term! Mari, help me too! I’m shipping you two!” After six months of studying together and pushing each other to succeed, I was sure there was something between us. So, the night after our A-level exams, I gathered the courage to confess. I filled the hotel entrance with roses and launched dozens of drones over the Thames, spelling out Jamie’s initials in the sky. I was young then, too young to realise that a confession should be a declaration of victory, not the start of an attack. Jamie’s friends seemed more excited than he was when they saw the scene, shoving him towards me. But instead of the classic “yes” you’d expect in a romantic movie, I heard, “Whoa, mate, this is that girl you mentioned, isn’t it?” “Go on, Jamie. She’s pulled out all the stops for you.” Their faces were lit up with a strange excitement I didn’t quite understand. Later, one of Jamie’s mates accidentally forwarded their group chat messages to our class group. That’s when I found out they had been calling me names like “tank” and “sumo wrestler,” teasing Jamie for being so desperate that he’d go for anything. They’d even shared photos of random women in high heels and stockings, telling Jamie to go after something “better.” Jamie, to his credit, had calmly explained that there was nothing romantic between us. His polite, dignified tone stood out in that cesspit of filthy jokes. That’s when I convinced myself: Jamie wasn’t a bad guy; he just didn’t like me.

Knowing romance wasn’t my strong suit, I barely kept in touch with Jamie during university. Even though we were studying in the same city. From mutual friends, I heard he had dated four different girls in his first two years. I could only shake my head at that. Jamie was a bit of a heartthrob, although not a cheater. He just never posted about his relationships on social media, and he always had someone lined up when a breakup happened. With his good looks, Russell Group degree, and upper-middle-class background, no one ever questioned his behaviour. The lads around him would just say, “If I had his looks and money, I’d play the field even more.” Then, in our third year, Jamie met Natalie “Nate” Carter. He started posting notes about her all the time: “Birthday: 19th February. Loves beef, cherries, and ice cream. Hates coriander!” “Make sure to prepare 45°C ginger tea during her time of the month.” They’d complete all the couples’ bucket-list challenges and post about it on TikTok, racking up thousands of likes. Every milestone in their relationship was full of rituals. The comments joked that his “six-month breakup curse” had finally been broken. I thought to myself, Jamie must’ve found “the one” this time. Meanwhile, during my four years of university, with no distractions from men, I focused entirely on my studies. I won two National Scholarships, got three certifications, and was accepted for a master’s programme at the same university. By the summer of my first year as a postgrad, I had co-authored papers published in top scientific journals and helped launch a company with my senior that made over £3 million in its first year. On one lazy afternoon, feeling proud of my accomplishments yet realising I was still missing someone special, I decided it was time to start dating.

Jamie and I must be fated, somehow. I had just told Chloe to keep an eye out for any potential matches when Jamie called me out of the blue. I hadn’t heard his voice in ages. When I answered, it felt awkward and unfamiliar, maybe because I hadn’t completely moved on. There was still a flicker of something there. Jamie, however, didn’t beat around the bush. “Mari, I heard you’re looking to start dating?” I didn’t deny it. “Then date me,” he said, laughing on the other end of the line. “I think I’m a decent enough match for you.” My mind went blank. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” “Broke up,” he replied nonchalantly. “So, what do you think? Care to consider?” There’s an old saying: if you wouldn’t tell your best friend about a decision, you probably shouldn’t do it. Looking back, I think there’s some truth to that. If Chloe had known I got together with the guy who had rejected me and gone on to date four other girls, she’d have killed me. But for some reason, I didn’t say no. Being with Jamie, my old teenage crush, wasn’t as romantic as I had imagined. There were no roses, no dates, no gifts. It felt like we were just online chat buddies rather than a real couple. Compared to how he treated his last girlfriend, I couldn’t help but feel the gap. For example, one day after I finished a conference in the city, it started pouring outside, and I wanted Jamie to come pick me up. I called him, and he said, “I just got out of the shower, don’t want to get wet.” I had him on speakerphone, and when the others heard his refusal, they all gave me sympathetic looks. In the end, my flatmate, Sophie, came to pick me up instead. On the way back, Sophie tried to reassure me. “Maybe your boyfriend’s just the cool and distant type. Don’t take it to heart.” But I knew better. Back when Nate was at her dance studio every evening, Jamie would drive her to and from practice without fail, even when it was raining. He didn’t just drive her—he joined the gym next door to keep an eye on her, worried some handsome dancer might catch her attention. Maybe it was because this relationship didn’t feel worth showing off, but I still hadn’t told Chloe that the “hot boyfriend” I’d been vaguely mentioning was actually Jamie.

Jamie and I rarely had dinner together, especially when his friends were around. I could tell he didn’t want me too involved with his circle, and he didn’t try to integrate into mine either. But one day, out of the blue, he asked me to join him. “Mari, my uni mates are back in town. We’re getting together. Want to come along?” “Oh, and by the way, you won’t be able to get back to your dorm tonight. So think about it before you say yes.” I was taken aback. Jamie had never taken me out before, and the first time he did, he was hinting at staying overnight. Maybe this was normal for someone as experienced as him, but it left me feeling cold. I was about to make up an excuse to avoid going when I overheard voices in the background. “Mate, you’ve still got it. Top-tier postgrad and you’ve got her wrapped around your finger. Teach me your ways!” “Forget smart girls. My girlfriend would never agree to this. She’d go on about ‘respect’ and ‘women’s rights.’ Blah, blah, blah.” I could hear Jamie try to muffle the phone, clearly not wanting me to hear the conversation. “Mari? You still there?” At that moment, I realised the version of Jamie I had admired—the one with his halo of charm—was about to shatter. “Of course, I’m coming. You guys start without me,” I said sweetly. I wouldn’t feel satisfied unless I turned up and saw this through. Jamie sighed in relief. “Great. See you soon.”

When I arrived outside the private dining room, the conversation inside was in full swing. The guys were discussing Jamie’s ex-girlfriends, ranking them by looks, personality, and how “fun” they were. I stood outside for a while, listening. They seemed to make a point of not mentioning Nate. Finally, it was my turn. “To be fair, the one he’s with now is actually solid. Smart, reliable, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders. Jamie, if you’re thinking of settling down, she’s a good option.” Another chimed in, “And she can cook, yeah? That’s a bonus.” “Some girls are just for fun, but not for marriage.” I couldn’t help but smirk at the irony. My 620 A-level score and top academic performance across the university apparently only earned me the title of “decent” and a potential candidate for Jamie’s wife. As the conversation continued, Jamie seemed to grow uncomfortable. He sneered, “Mari Bennett? She’s just been chasing after me for six years, like a lovesick puppy.” “She’s not bad looking, and she’s got decent qualifications, so I’ve kept her around. She’s useful, you know? Keeps Nate on her toes, stops her from picking fights with me.” Jamie had definitely been drinking, his words a little slurred, but clear enough for everyone to understand. The room fell silent for a second, his mates drawing in sharp breaths. “Come on, Jamie. You’re still hung up on Nate? She’s moved on, mate. You need to let it go,” one of the guys said, frustrated. Jamie slammed his fist on the table. “She didn’t cheat on me! Nate just got confused after our breakup. She thought someone else was better suited for her, but she’s realised her mistake.” “You’re the one who’s confused, mate,” another said, shaking his head. Then, I heard a voice I recognised, hesitant but familiar. “Jamie, if you’re really that set on getting Nate back, why not let me have Mari once you’re done with her?” The room went quiet again. It took me a moment to place the voice. It was one of Jamie’s old flatmates, a guy I’d met when I’d once brought Jamie an umbrella on a rainy day. He came from money too and loved flaunting it. “Mate, I’ll make it worth your while. I just got the new Croxx C. You can have it if you want.” “That mountain bike? The one that cost 80 grand? And it’s a limited edition? You’d seriously give that up?” someone asked, astonished. Jamie paused, then chuckled. “You’ve got a thing for Mari? Should’ve told me earlier. I’d have let you have a go.” “But just to be clear, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Mari might seem quiet, but she’s got her tricks. Back in school, loads of girls fancied me, but she was the only one bold enough to confess. You know why?” The others egged him on, eager for more gossip. “Because she saw my family’s wealth. She caught a glimpse of my mum’s car once. It’s the only reason she tutored me through A-levels. You think she’d have done it otherwise?” The guys nodded, clearly impressed by Jamie’s “insight.” “And look at her now. Every day she’s carrying designer bags, wearing high-end shoes. She’s just a student—there’s no way she’s paying for all of that herself. Must have maxed out her credit cards.” I stood outside, fuming. What did they think—that a girl like me couldn’t possibly afford those things without a man’s help? And for the record, I didn’t need to touch my family’s money. My scholarships covered everything. One of his mates chimed in, “Jamie, you’re right. Besides Nate, there’s no other girl who could ever fool you.” Jamie spat out, “You lot are full of it.” I was caught between storming in to confront them or quietly walking away when a passing waiter accidentally spilled soup all over my bag. I let out a small yelp. Jamie rushed out from the dining room, clearly panicking when he saw me.

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My husband was driving to pick up his mother to bring her to the city when the accident happened. To protect him, I lost my legs and could never have children again. Instead of gratitude, they grew disgusted with me and had me committed to a mental institution. I wasted away and eventually died. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the accident. This time, I was not getting into that car. “Hurry up, stop dragging your feet! Mum’s waiting for us!” My husband’s face was full of impatience, and I felt a little dazed. I still had my legs. This wasn’t the cold hospital bed of a mental ward. The spring breeze felt warm on my cheeks. It dawned on me—I had been given another chance. I was alive again. I looked down at the bags I was holding and then at my husband, James, smoking in the driver’s seat of his black Ford Focus. I realized this was the morning he was supposed to pick up his mother, Margaret Scott, to move into the city with us. The morning the crash would happen. I placed the gift boxes in the boot of the car. Soon enough, they’d be smashed to bits along with the car. I slowly walked over to the passenger window. “I’m not going. I don’t feel well.” James frowned. “What’s this now? Another one of your moods? Get in the car, stop being difficult!” I stood there, expressionless, staring at him. “What’s the big deal if you don’t go? It’s not like I care. Mum’s the one always talking about you, thinking of you.” A wave of disgust washed over me. I knew she only wanted me around to wait on her and her precious son. When I didn’t respond, James slammed the window shut, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust fumes. I turned and headed back upstairs. Inside, I found the pink teddy bear tin. Sure enough, the bankbook was still there. £16,000, untouched. £8,000 was my wedding savings, and the rest was our joint fund. In the last life, after the crash, James claimed the money had been lost in bad stock investments. He said there was nothing left to pay for my recovery and refused further treatment. He brought me home, neglected me, and let me waste away in bed. But now I knew the truth. He had hidden the money. How cruel. This time, I wouldn’t let them walk all over me. I took the bankbook, went to a few nearby banks, and withdrew all the money. Then I went straight to the jewellers opposite the bank and bought a 200g gold bar and two 100g gold bracelets. I remembered that in six months, gold prices would skyrocket to an all-time high. By then, I would be rotting away in a mental institution, catching bits of news from the radio. As I left the jewellers, my phone rang—a number I didn’t recognise. “Hello, who’s speaking?” “Hello, is this Catherine Thompson? This is Officer Weston from the Sheffield traffic unit. Your husband, James Scott, has been involved in a car accident. He’s unconscious. Are you his next of kin?” “He’s my husband! Is he alright? What happened?” I asked, forcing my voice to sound panicked. “He’s been taken by ambulance to St George’s Hospital. We’ve towed the vehicle to clear the road.” After hanging up, I dropped the fake concern from my face, holding back the excitement bubbling inside me. Just as I expected. When I arrived at the hospital and stood outside the emergency room, I overheard the doctors. “Has anyone reached the next of kin yet? James Scott’s family?” I rushed forward and shouted, “I’m here! I’m his wife!”

I stumbled forward, my face a picture of concern. “How’s James? Doctor, please, you’ve got to save him!” “Mrs Scott, your husband’s been severely injured below the waist, especially his legs.” “There are two options. We can transfer him to the Royal London Hospital, where they can use cutting-edge technology to save his legs. Or we can perform an emergency amputation here to prevent infection and save his life.” So there was another option back then! Why did James choose to have my legs amputated? “What are the risks with the first option?” “The technique is well-established at the Royal London, but it’s expensive. The medical costs could reach several hundred thousand pounds.” Of course, it was about money. My legs weren’t worth more than the cash in James’s eyes. “If we transfer him, our ambulance and best medical staff are ready.” I didn’t need to think about it. Of course, we’d go with amputation. This was the path James chose for me. “Doctor, don’t worry about the money. I’ll do whatever it takes to save my husband.” The doctor nodded. “However, I need to discuss this with my mother-in-law. She controls all the family’s finances.” I gestured to the phone in my hand, which had been ringing non-stop. “Mrs Scott, you must make a decision quickly. Every minute of delay increases the risk to your husband.” I nodded and answered the call. The empty hallway echoed with Margaret Scott’s sharp voice. “Catherine! You’ve got some nerve! I’ve been calling you for ages. What on earth are you up to?!” Her tone was the same as ever—rude and domineering. “It’s nearly noon. Are you two coming back or not? The family’s waiting to help, and James hasn’t checked in!” “Mum, I…” Ever since I married James, calling her “Mum” always gave her a smug satisfaction, as though it cemented her authority as the head of the family. I barely got a word in before she interrupted again. I hurried into the stairwell for some peace. “You’re always on about being busy, but you never earn half of what James does! You should quit that silly florist job and focus on taking care of him properly.” Her usual insults. Soon enough, she’d be the one taking care of her precious son. “Mum!” I yelled into the phone, hitting the record button. “James got into a car accident on the way to pick you up! He’s in hospital!” I made sure to sound convincingly devastated. “What? How could this happen?” I imagined the shock on her face, and it almost made me laugh. “Mum, you need to sell the house in Barnsley. Take the money James has given you over the years.” “Ask the relatives for a loan too. We need at least £100,000 if he’s going to have any chance of treatment in London. Otherwise, he’ll lose his legs.” I let out a few more sobs for effect. “£100,000?! You’re trying to kill me! I don’t have that kind of money. James never gave me anything!” “That’s my life savings! You witch, this is all your fault!” Margaret’s cries filled the phone. “Mum, I’ll mortgage the house for £10,000. You’ll have to find the rest.” Margaret continued wailing about her lack of money. Like her son, she loved herself and her savings more than anything. After all, she’d climbed her way out of poverty thanks to James, her golden goose. No way was she letting go of his hard-earned cash. “Mum, the doctors are waiting. You need to decide now, or it’ll be too late for the amputation.” “Fine, fine! Amputate his legs! Oh, my boy! What will I do now?!” Of course. Better to let her son lose his legs than to part with a penny. I slumped against the wall outside the operating theatre, muttering to myself. “How could they have no money? He’s given them so much every year. Why wouldn’t they use it to save him? Why did he have to lose his legs…” A nurse helped me to my feet, squeezing my hand. “Mrs Scott, you need to stay strong. What’s your decision?” “His mother won’t give us the money. He’ll have to have the amputation. How heartless she is… I can’t lose my husband. Please, do whatever you can to keep him alive.” I sobbed quietly as I signed the consent form. It was exhausting to keep up the act. Afterward, I sat on the hospital floor, resting my head on my knees, waiting. I needed to call Margaret again. It was time for her to come and take care of her precious boy. Just then, my phone rang again.

It was Mum. In the last life, after my legs were amputated, Mum cared for me day and night. She fed me, washed me, looked after me until she wore herself out. She never had time to look after her own health. By the time we realised something was wrong, it was too late—advanced cancer. No matter how much I cried, I couldn’t do anything but watch as Mum wasted away. I had been a disobedient daughter, marrying and moving far away, leaving her to live alone. She gave everything for me, always gentle, always kind. I hesitated to answer the phone, afraid that this might all be just a dream. When I picked up, Mum’s soft voice came through the line. “Kate, are you at the in-laws’ now? Did everything go smoothly? Margaret didn’t give you a hard time, did she?” Tears welled up immediately. Mum was still worried about me, always thinking of me first. In truth, it was Mum who should have been looked after, not me. But I had been too weak to stand up for myself. “No, Mum, everything’s fine,” I said, my voice trembling. “Are you sure? You sound upset.” “Mum, I had a nightmare last night. A horrible dream where you got sick and left me. I was so sad, Mum…” I bit my arm to stop the sobs, trying to keep my voice quiet. “Silly girl, you’re my treasure. I’d never leave you. Not for anything.” She was right. In my last life, when no one was willing to pay for my treatment, Mum sold the house and worked herself to the bone, borrowing money to keep me alive. “I know you love me, Mum. I’ve booked you a health check-up. I’ll come home in a couple of days and take you.” “A health check? There’s no need for that. I’m perfectly fine. Don’t waste your money.” “I’ve already paid. You’ll have to go, or the money will be wasted.” Mum was always so frugal, always putting herself last. “Well, alright then. Are you and James coming back together? I’ll make your favourite egg and onion rolls.” “James is busy with work. Mum, I’ve got another call coming through. I’ll talk to you soon, alright?” The doors of the operating theatre opened again, and two doctors approached. I couldn’t let Mum know about the accident. Otherwise, she’d rush to the hospital to take care of James. “Mrs Scott, your husband’s surgery was a success. He can be transferred to a regular ward now.” “Thank you so much, Doctor.” After settling James in his room, I called Margaret again. “Mum, you need to bring £10,000 from the house and come over right away.” “We still need £10,000 for the amputation.” Margaret’s voice was low and grumbling. “James has given you far more than £10,000 over the years. Hurry up and get here, Mum. We still need to pay for his surgery.” I raised my voice. Looking at James, pale and helpless in the hospital bed, I felt a flicker of pity. But in the last life, he never felt pity for me. This time, the wheel of fate had turned. It was his burden to bear now.

The sun was beginning to set by the time James finally woke up. I rushed to his bedside, tears in my eyes. “Darling, your legs! They’re gone! What will we do now?” James blinked, looking confused. I stayed by his side, playing the dutiful wife, just like he had done in my past life. “Do you need some water, love? Here, let me help you,” I said, dabbing his lips with a damp cotton bud. “James, your surgery and rehabilitation will be expensive. I’ve decided we’ll sell the house to cover the costs.” At the mention of selling the house, James seemed to wake up fully. He turned to me, his face twisted in anger. “Amputation?! Who gave you the right to sign off on that? Are you just waiting for me to die so you can run off with that dog Edward?” After we got married, James slowly revealed his true nature, replacing the charm and gentleness with insults, belittlement, and even violence. Even now, with his legs gone, he couldn’t stop himself. “What does Edward have to do with this? It was your mother who made the decision. She said we couldn’t afford to save your legs.” I showed him the recording of Margaret refusing to pay. As I watched his face contort with rage, I couldn’t help but feel amused. “That’s not possible. I give her money every year! How could she not have enough? It must be at least £50,000 by now.” James muttered to himself. Ever since he left school, he had stopped relying on his family’s money. After graduating from university, he began sending monthly allowances to Margaret. In nearly a decade, it must have added up to £70,000 or more. And in the past couple of years, after becoming a senior engineer, he was poised to earn six figures as a manager. It seemed Margaret had her priorities all wrong. Who would promote a crippled man with no prospects? “Stop thinking about it. The decision’s been made. Let’s focus on your recovery now.” “Ahhhhhh!” James let out a silent scream of frustration. I pressed the nurse call button. The door opened, and it was Margaret, storming in. She grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking me. “This is all your fault! Why didn’t you protect him? He’s the breadwinner! You’re a worthless cow! Why aren’t you the one who lost their legs?!” Margaret was strong, her hands yanking at my hair and clothes. I punched her twice—once in the chin, then in the nose—sending her crashing to the ground. The shock on her face was priceless. She hadn’t expected her meek daughter-in-law to fight back. “Mum, everything that’s happened to James is because of you!” “He crashed because he was driving to pick you up. And you’re the one who decided to have his legs amputated. Did you forget what happened earlier today?”

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