Mom took me and my sister, Nora Lewis, to buy some Lucky Pets. I fell in love with a white snake at first sight. Nora thought snakes were scary and hard to keep, so she picked a loach, the easiest to care for. We heard loaches take a year to bond with their owners, so Nora pampered hers. But her loach died within six months. Meanwhile, after getting my white snake, I landed a job at a company and won millions in the lottery. Nora was consumed by jealousy, ranting about snakes eating loaches, accusing me of letting the snake devour the loach’s luck. When I let my guard down, Nora shoved me into the river. We both got a second chance at life, but Nora beat me to choosing the white snake. She didn’t know that… Snakes were creatures of dark energy; they chose their masters, not the other way around. Forcing a snake to submit only leads to getting bitten. ***** “Mom, I want this white snake!” The icy grip of the river water had just faded when I opened my eyes to see Nora grabbing the white snake’s cage. She hugged it tight as if afraid I’d snatch it away. Mom frowned. “Nora, weren’t you terrified of snakes? They’re dangerous and can bite. Pick something safer, honey.” Even the seller chimed in. “Young lady, you’ve got no connection with this snake. Why not go for the loach? It’s a fallen dragon. Once it bonds with you, it’ll transfer its unused luck your way.” Nora’s face darkened. “You swindler, think I’m clueless? Loaches just have dragon luck, they’re not real dragons. Snakes are true reincarnated dragons. I’m picking the snake.” His well-meant advice earned him an undeserved scolding. The seller’s face fell, and he didn’t say another word after that. Mom always favored Nora. Seeing her pick the snake, she said nothing, just nudged me to hurry up and choose so we could go home. As I stood there, eyeing the array of lucky pets, still unsure what to pick, Nora shoved the box with the loach into my hands. “Claire, take the loach. It’s no dragon, but it suits you just fine.” I knew then she’d been reborn, too. Nora and I are twins. At 24, we were both struggling to find jobs. Mom heard raising lucky pets could change our luck, so she brought us here to choose. In our past life, Nora followed the master’s advice and picked the loach. Determined to change her fate, she’d recite the bible daily and feed it the most expensive foods. But within six months, her loach died. Less than a month later, Nora got in a car crash, was scammed out of money, and was nearly assaulted by a homeless man. Meanwhile, I’d only raised a little white snake for half a year, but my luck soared. I won big on scratch cards, landed my dream job, and everything fell into place. Nora grew jealous. She invited me to the river and, when I wasn’t looking, pushed me in. And I drowned. I was about to say something, but Mom had already paid and was ushering us out the door. In the car, Nora kept grinning, clutching the small white snake. Suddenly, she turned to me with a smug look. “Claire, I heard these eels are something special. I’m letting you have it, so when you hit the big time, don’t forget who hooked you up.” If I hadn’t lived this life before, I might’ve bought Nora’s act hook, line, and sinker. But I knew the ugly truth lurking behind that fake smile of hers. The moment I’d climb the ladder, she’d be the first in line to stab me in the back. My eyes fell on the drowsy white snake in her arms, and I couldn’t help but smirk. Nora had no clue. Snakes were way trickier to raise than eels. They were full of negative energy and killer instincts. More importantly, mystical snakes chose their masters. They came to you, not the other way around. Just buying one and expecting to be its master was asking for trouble. And what Nora had wasn’t even a regular snake. It was a python. The kind that keeps on growing.

We’d barely stepped through the door when Nora whisked her snake off to her room. Some folks from the neighborhood watch dropped by to warn Mom about a string of break-ins nearby. “Keep an eye on your valuables,” they said. I dug up an old fish tank and tossed the loach in. To be honest, I’m not big on the whole “lucky pet” superstition. But in my past life, my luck really did change after I got the white snack. I called it Whitey. I followed the seller’s advice and started raising a loach. I named it Muddy and fed it daily, even reading a Bible verse every night. I found an old eggshell and put it in its tank. Muddy seemed to love it. It looked like it was using that shell as a little hideout. Still, the little guy always kept its distance from me. After a week of feeding, I called out to it, and surprisingly, it responded. Meanwhile, I kept up my daily outings. I told the folks I was job hunting, but really, I was hitting the books at the library. In my past life, it took me six months to land a gig with a big-name company. That company was a big deal in our town. Getting in was like hitting the jackpot. But after I started, I realized the boss didn’t care about my skills. He was after my zodiac. He wanted me there as his good luck charm. So now, I was thinking of trying for a government job. After all, who wants to be someone else’s human shield? Nora still refused to leave the house, fixated on the idea that raising Lucky Pets would magically turn her life around. Mom asked me to talk some sense into Nora. In my previous life, I had listened to Mom’s advice. I told Nora that lucky pets were just luck boosters and that finding a job still required personal effort. At the very least, she should go out and drop off some resumes. Nora took my advice back then. On her first day of job hunting, her pet loach died. From that day on, Nora blamed my Whitey for killing her loach, saying I was trying to steal her good fortune. Then, I accidentally won the lottery and landed a job at a foreign company. Nora’s jealousy went through the roof, and she ended up killing me. After Nora shoved me into the river, I saw Mom arrive at the scene. Seeing me clinging to life, Mom didn’t call for help. Instead, she rushed Nora home. When they fished out my body, Mom had me cremated right away. She told everyone it was an accidental drowning. My blood ran cold at the memory. I said to Mom, “Raising a lucky pet requires true devotion. Nora’s actions are justified.” I kept quiet, and Mom was too scared to say anything about Nora. We had no choice but to let Nora worship that snake like a god. She built a fancy cage, cleaned it daily, read the Bible three times a day, and even sent Mom to catch newborn wild mice in the countryside. Whitey was picky, too. It turned its nose up at farm-raised mice, demanding only wild ones. And they had to be tender ones, just sprouting their first bit of fur. Once, while Mom was cleaning Whitey’s cage in Nora’s room, it nearly bit her. Nora didn’t blame Whitey. Instead, she scolded Mom for disturbing its meditation. After that, no one dared go near the thing. That night, Nora came to my room to borrow my hairdryer. She walked in just as I was reading the Bible to Muddy. She snorted, “Claire, you’re really taking this little mudfish seriously, huh? People online say those who believe these fish can bond with humans are as gullible as old folks buying into health scams. You might as well feed that thing to my snake.” As she said this, Muddy seemed to sulk in his tank. It swam back and forth in the tank, looking like it wanted to jump out. I called out softly, “Muddy, calm down.” Hearing my voice, Muddy actually stopped, ignoring Nora and curling up in its favorite eggshell instead. I chuckled, “Seems pretty smart to me.” Nora’s eyes widened. The loach she had in her past life never listened to her like this. Nora’s face darkened, and she scoffed, “So what if it listens? A snake can still steal a loach’s luck.” I laughed. “We’re just keeping it for fun. Don’t tell me you actually believe in that superstition.” I laughed, and Nora joined in. But her laughter was unsettling, with a smile on her face but ice in her eyes. As she left, Nora muttered under her breath. “It doesn’t matter if the mudfish obeys you. With my baby snake around, it won’t bring you any luck at all.” Ironically, the very next day after Nora said that, I hit the jackpot.

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The limited-edition item from the brand that was reserved for me was snatched up by my brother, Joe West, using his family discount card. When I confronted him, expecting an explanation, I was met with a barrage of insults. “You shameless bitch, letting my boyfriend buy you a bag? Have you lost your mind?” Later on, Joe even had the nerve to complain to me, saying, “Sis, my girlfriend is just really into me. You should apologize to her!” Not long after, his girlfriend showed up at my house, complaining to my parents, “Don’t blame Rebecca. I gave her a gift, but she turned her nose up at it and said Joe wouldn’t get a share of the family fortune…” My mom looked completely bewildered and said, “There isn’t any share for him anyway.” I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself, “Ha! This scheming little witch just hit a brick wall!” ***** My parents have always groomed me to be the heir. They’d given me the best of everything since I was a kid. As for my brother, Joe? Well, in my mom’s words, “As long as he’s alive, that’s enough.” Earlier that day, a brand I’d collaborated with for years called to say they’d set aside a bag for me. When I sent my assistant to pick it up, she was told Joe had already snagged it with his family discount card. I thought, “Huh? Is that little twerp in love or something?” Curious, I called to probe, “Joe, did you grab my bag for me?” Instead of Joe, a shrill female voice answered, “Who’s this slut trying to get my man to buy her a bag? “Know your place, you gold-digger! “You motherless piece of trash, go die already!” After a minute of non-stop profanity-laced insults, the call ended. I’d never been cussed out like that in my life. I was fuming. I thought, “Alright then. You’re both dead meat.” Just as I was about to block Joe’s number, he called again, frantically apologizing, “I’m so sorry, sis. My girlfriend didn’t know who you were. She just loves me too much and lost her cool…” Joe’d always been a bit of a pushover, but he’d always been good to me. I was starting to waver when he added, “It’s just a bag. Can’t you just apologize and call it even?” I rolled my eyes. “Apologize my ass.” As soon as I hung up, I got a friend request from “I Don’t Like Coriander.” The profile picture showed a girl in a white dress, a bandaged hand, an eye patch, and a playful tongue-out expression. Her message was straight to the point: [You bitch, how dare you insult my boyfriend? I’ll tear you apart!] I accepted the request, amused. Before I could type anything, she dragged me into a group chat. A bunch of profiles with generic, handsome guy pictures started attacking me. [Just because you’re Joe’s sister, you can insult people? How dare you disrespect others like that?] [We heard you always exploit your brother. Why don’t you just go die already? Should we expose you online?] “I Don’t Like Coriander” was particularly aggressive. [He’s just a student, and you’re making him buy you designer bags worth hundreds of thousands? Have you no shame?] [You’ll get married someday, and the West Group will be all his. You’re just spending his money now, you know?] I was utterly speechless. My brother really had a knack for finding these insufferable girlfriends. The group chat continued with more insults: [Looking at your social media, always dressing so provocatively. Don’t tell me you’re trying to seduce your own brother?] It was disgusting. But I’d calmed down by now. I typed: [I wasn’t going to get involved, but since you seem so familiar with the ins and outs of prostitution, I feel obliged to warn my brother. Better be careful not to catch anything nasty.]

A barrage of profanity-laced messages popped up. I chuckled: [ Ooh, looks like I struck a nerve.] “I Don’t Like Coriander” exploded: [You’re dead meat, bitch!] [Easy there, I can smell your meltdown from here.] I typed before swiftly exiting the group and blocking everyone. I shared screenshots of their abuse in the family group chat. Joe panicked. “Rebecca, delete those! What if people misunderstand Ashley?” “Misunderstand what? It’s all there in black and white,” I replied nonchalantly, playing a game on speakerphone. Joe’s voice was flustered. “She didn’t know the family card money was yours. She thought you were trying to seduce me. It’s because you changed your contact to ‘Boss’ on my phone…” I thought, “The little twerp is blaming me!” My temper flared again. “So it’s my fault now? You took the bag meant for me without a word, and now you’re blaming me? I ought to call the cops!” “No, please!” Joe hesitated before admitting, “Ashley has depression. She’s emotionally unstable and can’t handle the police. I’m begging you, sis. Apologize to her! “I really love her and I’m afraid she might do something stupid…” “Depression? Sounds more like rabies to me.” I hung up and blocked him. The family group chat exploded. [What the hell? Woke up to see a two-faced snake.] [Always thought Joe was slow, but this dumb? Dating someone like that?] Joe meekly posted six dots before getting booted from the chat. My mother, Amanda West, called. She said, “My poor baby girl. Don’t worry, your dad and I are heading to the city. We’ll tear that girl apart!” My dad, Vincent West, was fuming in the background. “My precious daughter’s never been insulted like this in her life!” After some pleasantries, I took some vitamins and settled in for a beauty nap. The West Group had an open-door policy where everyone from directors to janitors could give feedback weekly. Lately, several department heads had been grumbling, taking subtle digs at me. Puzzled, I decided to investigate the next day. I went undercover in plain business attire, infiltrating the most disgruntled department—HR. In the break room corner, I was grimacing at my new awful coffee when two interns walked in. One carried a familiar handbag—identical to the one the brand had promised me. I smirked as they started gossiping, ignoring my presence. “Her contact is ‘Boss,’ and she’s always ordering my boyfriend around. Even if she’s his sister, isn’t that weird?” “Gross, she definitely has the hots for her brother.” I wanted to gag. They glanced at me, assuming I wouldn’t dare speak up. “Hey, pour me my favorite coffee.” I thought, “I’d like to see what they’re going to say.” As I handed over the coffee, I caught the handbag girl’s name tag. Intern: Ashley Maxwell. The West Group interns were typically from top universities with strict entry requirements. I thought, “That idiot brother snuck his girlfriend into the company. No wonder everyone’s complaining!” Ashley smirked. “A limited-edition bag worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. My boyfriend’s just a college senior. I’ve never seen anyone so shameless.” I had to laugh. In my head, I retorted, “So spending my own money is shameless, but buying you a bag is perfectly fine? Now that’s what I call shameless!”

Ashley pouted, saying, “Besides, isn’t it normal for the main chick to go off on the side piece? “She’s an outsider eyeing the family fortune, trying to seduce her own brother. I just wanted to teach her a lesson in that group chat, but she couldn’t handle it and bailed.” “Babe, your mouth is something else. No wonder Mr. West loves to kiss it.” Her friend simpered. One twisting facts, the other brown-nosing. I nearly gagged, thinking, “Joe must be desperate to want this piece of work.” “Once I marry Joe, I’ll convince him to marry off Rebecca to some farmer. She can pop out babies in the fields all day. That’ll teach her,” Ashley said. “Brilliant! Perfect for dealing with that fake prude.” I felt sicker by the second. How could any woman say such things? Their gossip continued, but suddenly, there was a commotion outside. I peeked out to see our housekeeper, Megan Fox, who’d likely just arrived from the West Estate. My parents were used to her cooking, so she’d come along to the city. She was still in her country-style clothes, sitting quietly and properly in place. I poured her a glass of water, but before I could hand it over, someone knocked it out of my hand. “Where’d this old hag come from? You think the West Group is a place for lowlifes like you?” Ashley spat. She turned to me. “Playing nice, huh? Trying to impress my boyfriend?” Seeing my eye twitch, she impatiently kicked Megan. “Just here for the free AC, you cheap old bag? “You’re covered in germs and viruses, disgusting. Who let you into the West Group anyway?” Her intern friend chimed in, “This is the future Mrs. West. She’s being nice by just kicking you. If you know what’s good for you, get lost.” Megan looked bewildered. “Who are you two?” She glanced at me, confused, muttering, “I didn’t know Joe had a fiancée…” She’d been with my parents for years, practically part of the company. Ashley, not catching that, still flew off the handle. “What are you mumbling about? Talking shit about me?” I thought, “Depression’s just one of her issues. This nutjob’s got paranoia, too!” “Apologize, you old bitch!” Ashley screamed, suddenly slapping Megan hard. I couldn’t stop it in time, watching helplessly as Megan fell. Megan had practically raised Joe and me when our parents were busy. We were incredibly close. Rage boiled over. I lunged forward, grabbed Ashley’s hair, and slapped her five times in quick succession. She stood there stunned. “How dare you hit me!” “Do I need a reason to slap an idiot?” I retorted, about to kick her. Suddenly, a powerful force shoved me to the ground from behind. A voice roared, “You’re the idiot! Nobody touches my girlfriend!” Joe had appeared out of nowhere. Ashley’s hate-filled eyes instantly brimmed with tears. She clung to Joe’s arm, “Baby, she hit me! “You have to fire her. I’m so hurt.” “It reminds me of when I was bullied before…” Joe was furious, glaring at me menacingly. “You…” He was taken aback. As Joe snapped back to reality, he met Megan’s furious gaze, and panic set in. “You guys…” I crossed my arms and said with a smirk. “If you apologize now, I might just consider not kicking you to the curb.” “Rebecca, I…” Joe’s words faltered, cut short by his girlfriend’s sudden outburst. “Who do you think you are, demanding an apology? You’ve got some nerve, you little thief!” Ashley looked at Megan, who was clearly confused, fuming. “It’s that old hag over there! I don’t know how she managed to sneak into the West Group, but she’s definitely up to no good. “Filthy and disgusting! Who knows what kind of germs she’s carrying?” She pointed a finger at me, her voice dripping with disdain. “And this cheap woman? She’s just trying to show off in front of you, hoping to play the nice guy and seduce you. “How dare you make my boyfriend apologize? “Do you even know who he is? This whole company belongs to him! If he tells you to scram, you better get out! “Honestly, you should take a good look in the mirror. I bet your mom was out selling herself, and you inherited that charm.” I couldn’t help but laugh. I thought, “Wow, such filthy language! Looks like your innocent persona is crumbling a bit, but I’m not about to let you off easy.”

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I was Amy Lane’s scapegoat, the friend who always took the fall. She wore hickeys on her neck like badges of honor, but when her mother, Cameron Diaz, asked about them, she laughed it off, claiming I was just messing around. While Amy and her boyfriend were out partying, she told everyone it was all for my birthday. When her grades slipped, she pointed fingers at me, insisting I was failing, too. And when Amy found out she was pregnant, she sobbed to Cameron, saying I had dragged her to a bar and slipped something into her drink. Cameron didn’t take kindly to that. She rallied a group of people and came after me, leaving me for dead. But then, I got a second chance at life. Now, Cameron was back at my door, looking like she was ready to throw down again. I couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah, it was me who kissed her, and it was me who drugged her! And you know what? My grades were pretty terrible too. That kid of hers? Who knows, it might just be a loser like her. Better off gone!” ***** Amy was all over her boyfriend, yet she had told Cameron she was spending my birthday at my place. The phone kept ringing. It was Cameron calling. A chill ran through me as Cameron’s voice came through loud and clear. “Felicity, you’re a high school student. Why are you pulling these stunts? Amy has classes tomorrow, and you’re making her stay at your place? “You two are students and should focus on your studies. Even if you’re not interested in learning, you shouldn’t be a distraction to Amy. Amy’s goal is to get into a good university. “And for heaven’s sake, if she’s at your place, at least keep her phone on! We’re worried sick as it is. How can you be so thoughtless?” As I listened to the endless stream of accusations and scorn, my anger simmered. In my past life, I was Amy’s scapegoat, the one her mother always blamed. I remembered a time I went to Amy’s house to drop off some homework. Cameron had seen the love bite on Amy’s neck and asked, “Is that a mosquito bite?” Without missing a beat, Cameron pointed at me and said, “Felicity did that while goofing around.” Cameron gave me a strange look, then told Amy to help in the kitchen, but she really scolded Amy for half an hour. I could hear their conversation from the living room. Most of it was meant to be heard by me, and I was so embarrassed I ran out of the house. Cameron suspected me of being lesbian and didn’t consider me a good student. She just wanted Amy to stay away from me. After that, I had little contact with Amy, but she kept using me as her fall guy. I ended up bearing the brunt of her lies. I ended up bearing the brunt of her lies. Now Cameron was calling again, and I knew without a doubt that Amy had been out with her troublemaker boyfriend again and was using me as her excuse. “Felicity, are you even listening? Have Amy answer the phone!” I snapped out of my thoughts and shouted, “Am…” The phone hit the floor with a thud, and Cameron’s voice grew frantic on the other end. “Felicity? Felicity? Are you there?” I picked up the phone and turned it off. I hummed as I grabbed my bathrobe and headed to the bathroom. Just as I finished drying my hair, there was a pounding at the door. Cameron burst in, followed closely by Amy’s father, Barry Lane. “Amy? Amy? Get out here, you brat!” Facing the aggressive woman, I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. Turning around with a forced smile, I asked, “Mrs. Lane, what brings you here?” “Felicity, what’s going on? Why did you hang up in the middle of our call? Where’s my Amy? Where are you hiding her? Get her out here now!” My eyes were blazing red with fury, and I couldn’t help but sneer, thinking, “How could I possibly hide her?” The truth was hard to keep under wraps. In my past life, Amy ended up pregnant. She sobbed to her mother, blaming me for tricking her into going to a bar and drugging her. Before the police could even start their investigation, her mother had hired people to beat me to death. The pain from that beating was something I could never forget. I had been set for a bright future with my dream university lined up, but Amy’s family had destroyed everything. How could I not harbor hatred?

“Mrs. Lane, how on earth did Amy end up at my place?” I knew that no matter how I tried to explain, it would be pointless. Just like in my past life, Cameron was convinced I had ruined Amy’s life, and she was ready to take her frustrations out on me with her fists. Now, she had made up her mind that I was the one encouraging Amy to stay out late, that I was the bad influence on her daughter. “Felicity, I’m giving you one last chance to hand over my daughter,” Cameron said, her voice dripping with menace. “Mrs. Lane, are you losing your marbles? I didn’t kidnap your daughter. What’s with the late-night drama at my house?” Before I could catch my breath, Amy’s dad, Barry, slapped me hard across the face. The force of it left me dazed, a buzzing echo ringing in my ears. He immediately pulled out a camera and started recording. “I don’t care whose daughter you’re; your dad’s not disciplining you. I’m here to set things straight. And what kind of teachers are we dealing with? Letting someone like you stay in school? I’m calling for your expulsion!” With a swift motion, he sent the video flying into the class group chat. The chat exploded with messages, everyone eager to know what was happening. It seemed Cameron had found her weapon against me, thrusting her phone into my face as she recorded. “This girl is nothing but trouble. My daughter, Amy, has always been a good kid. Felicity was shy and didn’t have many friends, which is why I encouraged Amy to befriend Felicity. But I had no idea she was hiding a heart full of malice, trying to lead my daughter astray! “Let’s not forget the facts. Now she’s encouraging my daughter to stay out all night, turning Amy’s phone off. As a parent, how am I supposed to feel? I’m worried sick about my girl!” Cameron was pleased with the reaction. The chat was flooded with support for her side. [Senior year is crucial; if she gets derailed now, it could ruin her future!] [Absolutely! If my daughter hung out with someone like that, I’d have a meltdown!] [Some parents really don’t take responsibility. Parents should keep a close eye on their kids; there are too many bad influences out there nowadays.] [Children are like delicate flowers, and if they’re getting poisoned, what a shame!] Maybe it was the crowd’s cheers that gave Barry the courage to jump into a group video call. Parents flooded in, eager to watch the spectacle unfold. “Her parents aren’t doing their job, so I’m stepping in,” Cameron declared, grabbing a feather duster from beside the TV. “If you don’t hand over my daughter right now, I won’t hold back!” He pointed the duster at me, his face twisted with rage, as if he wanted to tear me apart. Suddenly, Barry shifted the camera, focusing it on an antique vase in my living room. Someone in the chat recognized it. “Whoa, that vase looks like it’s got some history!” Barry, noticing the shift in attention, scoffed. “What does history matter? Look at how messed up their family is! Who knows how they even got their hands on that vase?” Barry was a construction foreman, used to barking orders at laborers, and he had that typical ‘big man on campus’ attitude. With a flick of his wrist, he smashed the vase, muttering, “Just doing my part to rid the world of scum.” The parents in the video erupted in cheers, finding it all incredibly satisfying. I stood by, watching as he got egged on by the crowd, smashing more of my things. In a moment of desperation, I tried to reason with them, saying, “Amy isn’t even here! You barged into my house and are destroying my property. I’ve already called the police!” Upon hearing that, the crowd fell silent, but a few fearless souls continued to watch the chaos unfold. Cameron, convinced I was hiding Amy, planted her hands on her hips, her arrogance unyielding. “Calling the cops? Good! Maybe they’ll lock you up, and my daughter can finally get back to her studies in peace!”

Most of the parents in the group chat were just there for the drama, ready to watch the chaos unfold. Suddenly, a woman’s voice cut through the noise. “My daughter just told me that this girl doesn’t even live at school! She’s being picked up in luxury cars every day!” That sent shockwaves through the chat, igniting a flurry of comments. I glanced at my phone and saw the name. Nancy Dona’s mom? Nancy was the class activities coordinator, the one who’d once asked me to dress up as a dog for a school event. I found that demeaning and refused, only for her to run to the teacher and report me for skipping out on activities. I’d rather write lines than crawl around like a dog! Nancy and her little clique often snickered at me behind my back, and whenever I got close, they’d burst into laughter and give me those weird looks. If Nancy and I weren’t on good terms, how could she possibly say anything nice to her mother about me? Barry grinned, showing all his teeth. “No wonder you live in a fancy apartment! You’re being spoiled by some sugar daddy! At your age, you should be focused on studying, but I’ll teach you a lesson!” With that, he grabbed a baseball bat from the cupboard and started swinging it around. Within minutes, my living room was a disaster zone, and the noise attracted neighbors who came to see what was going on. Cameron was shouting at the neighbors about how terrible I was, smashing my crystal cabinet with a vengeance. “Look at this! She’s a bad influence on my daughter! If I don’t teach her a lesson today, I’m not called Cameron!” I noticed the teachers were online but completely ignoring the mayhem, and my heart sank. In my past life, I had kept my distance from Amy, but because the teacher had some connection with her family, I was forced to tutor her and even sit next to her in class. That gave Amy countless opportunities to set me up. I managed a tight smile as I picked up my phone and tried calling the teacher. The phone rang endlessly without an answer. I sent him a barrage of desperate messages, but there was no response. After all, he was Amy’s uncle; why would he help me? Then, a lightbulb went off in my head. I decided to announce in the group chat that I was going to give away a big cash prize. Sure enough, it got everyone buzzing, and soon, Charles Quentin popped up in the chat. I quickly typed: [Mr. Quentin, please help me explain to Amy’s parents!] Charles responded almost immediately: [Felicity, you and Amy have always been close. Just tell her parents where she is, and they won’t give you a hard time.] The group erupted in agreement. [Who wants to argue with a young girl late at night? We’re all parents here; let’s put ourselves in her shoes. Just tell us where you’ve taken the kid.] [Exactly! Our kids are sheltered and wouldn’t know how to handle someone with a devious mind.] [Can we get her expelled? One bad apple spoils the bunch!] [Kids today are nothing like we were; when I was a kid, I had to help around the house. Nowadays, they’re pampered and just want shortcuts.] [Let’s not generalize; my kid is well-behaved. If I had a daughter like that, I’d cut ties immediately.] The situation escalated quickly, with parents taking screenshots and recording videos to post online, blaming someone for leading their children astray. The trending topic “Desperate Parents Searching for Their Children” went viral, and discussions about how “humans are inherently good, but poor choices in friends lead to trouble” shot to the top of social media.

Someone in the group chat said, “Hey, let’s go live! Amy’s dad, you should start a stream. If her parents aren’t going to keep an eye on her, we’ll use the internet to hold her accountable. This is getting juicy; we can’t let her keep messing with our kids!” Barry’s eyes lit up, a greedy glint shining through as he eagerly opened the live-streaming app. With his booming voice and righteous indignation, he quickly drew in viewers, the numbers climbing rapidly. The narrative shifted to me being a manipulative villain, a bully targeting innocent girls, and how I was supposedly being supported by some sugar daddy. The online crowd was all too eager to jump on the bandwagon, transforming snippets of hearsay and their limited knowledge into a crusade for justice. They were all too ready to hit that like button, thinking it might just make a difference. Before long, the stream hit the headlines, racking up over 100 thousand viewers. But I felt nothing. I thought to myself, “I’ve already died once. If I’m going to get my revenge, it’s got to be big. I’ve done nothing wrong. Why should I hide? Why should I feel guilty?” I had no regrets about my past; I just wanted to make my voice heard. [Look at this fancy apartment! This little girl is living large and probably being spoiled and rotten! Who knows how much her sugar daddy is giving her each month?] [Parents in our group have already shared that she’s always being picked up by some old guy in a luxury car. I even saw them hugging. So cozy!] [Our kids are so young! How can they resist such temptations? That’s how she’s leading them astray!] Most of the viewers were parents sharing their own stories about how their once-obedient children had turned rebellious after befriending the wrong crowd. One mom lamented: [My kid has gotten so lazy! All his classmates don’t do chores at home, and now he won’t even wash his own underwear!] Then there was the bizarre tale of another parent who had sent their child back to their hometown to live with the grandparents, claiming those kids in their hometown were sheltered and naive, which made their own child overly timid and hesitant. “Today, I’m going to teach this materialistic girl a lesson! Look at her, wasting her youth! Watch me smash her little golden nest!” Barry declared, and his enthusiasm fueled by the stream’s growing popularity. Cameron pinned me to the couch while Barry grinned ear to ear, clearly enjoying the flood of gifts and comments rolling in. He had completely forgotten about his own daughter, blinded by the attention. As I watched him swagger toward my art studio, which housed not only my practice pieces but also some genuine masterpieces, I panicked. “Don’t you dare smash that room! If you do, I won’t let you get away with it!” The more frantic I became, the more excited Barry looked, shooting me a provocative glance. “There’s got to be something juicy in that room! If you want me to kick the door down, just send a big gift!” The sound of notifications chimed incessantly from his phone, and he was practically salivating at the screen. Then, with a loud crash, he kicked the door open. “Now do you believe me, folks? I told you she’s no good! Look at these painting, so disgusting, filthy!” Barry shouted, revealing a mix of scenic landscapes and tasteful nude art. To them, it was all just “filthy.” I fought to keep my composure, desperate to make myself heard. “You’re not even here to find Amy! You’re vandalizing my home, and that’s considered intentional damage! These paintings are worth a lot, and if you ruin them, you’ll be paying for it for years!”

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On the day I was supposed to marry Rachel Quinn, the beautiful rich girl, she abandoned my mother, Susan Sullivan, and me on a remote road to meet up with her childhood sweetheart. Susan suffered a sudden heart attack from the shock. I called Rachel, sobbing, begging her to come back and help save my mom. She coldly dismissed me. “Here we go again. Every time I leave, your mom fakes a heart problem. Your family really knows how to put on a show.” Because of her delay, we missed the crucial window for treatment, and Susan passed away. That night, one of our mutual friends posted a picture on Instagram with the caption: [Nothing beats childhood sweethearts!] The photo showed Rachel perched on her childhood sweetheart’s lap, his hand resting intimately on her waist. The sexual tension was palpable. With a blank expression, I liked the post and commented: [So this was why you have got to run?] My friend mockingly replied: [It was just a round of Truth or Dare. Why so serious?] Rachel seemed indifferent. But when I left without a word, she completely lost it. ***** [Rachel, let’s break up.] After packing up my mom Susan’s belongings, I sent Rachel this message, my face expressionless. Rachel thought I was just throwing a fit. She immediately posted screenshots of our chat on Instagram, saying: [Jeez, wonder where he learned to be such a drama queen.] Rachel’s friends, always eager for drama, chimed in with comments. [Like mother, like son. Probably learned it from that hick mom of his.] [He’s just a simp who thinks he’s hot stuff.] [Rachel, don’t forgive him so easily this time. Show him who the boss is in this relationship!] Rachel replied with a smile: [Of course.] I smashed my fist into the picture frame. Blood seeped through my fingers as the photo of Rachel and me shattered. For six long years, I’d stood by Rachel’s side, catering to her every whim, cherishing her with all my heart. She was a rich man’s daughter, and I came from an average family. The designer bags she loved took me months to save up for. But I didn’t mind. Just seeing her smile made it all worthwhile. I’d work three jobs a day without complaint, even if it meant my hands were calloused and bleeding. She was my whole world. When the flu hit and pharmacies were out of meds, I braved a raging fever just to get some to her door. She was that fragile. And how did Rachel repay me? She blew through the money I’d worked so hard to earn. Worse still, she’d been secretly investing in her childhood friend Nathan’s business ventures behind my back. Susan, taking Rachel’s words to heart, emptied our family’s savings. She said we couldn’t let Rachel down and had to give her a fancy wedding. In the end, on the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Rachel received a call from Nathan while we were on the road. Without hesitation, she abandoned Susan and me on a deserted highway. I desperately reached for her wrist. “We’re not even married yet…” She jerked her hand away and started the car. “Nathan just got back to the country. Starting a business isn’t easy. He needs me. Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be right back.” With tears in my eyes, I shouted, “Rachel, if you leave now, this wedding is off!” Rachel fixed me with a confident stare. “You can’t live without me, Ryan Sullivan.” Her words rooted me to the spot. Susan, witnessing Rachel abandon us for another man, collapsed from the shock, clutching her chest in pain. There was no one in sight. I frantically dialed Rachel’s number, desperate for her to come back and help Susan. Rachel coldly dismissed my plea, hanging up with a scathing remark, “Here we go again. Every time I leave, your mom fakes a heart problem. Your family really knows how to put on a show.” As I watched the life slowly drain from Susan, I couldn’t hold back the tears, overwhelmed by despair. When Rachel and I first got together, Susan had offered me all her savings. “Ryan,” she’d said, “it’s been just the two of us for so long. I know my heart’s been holding you back. But I want to help you one last time.” Now she lay in my arms, her breath shallow, her face deathly pale. “Ryan,” she whispered, “I wanted to see how handsome you’d look in your wedding suit…” But she would never get that chance. In the end, all that was left of poor Susan was a small pile of ashes. Susan never liked crowds, so I kept the funeral small. Some friends came by to say goodbye, but I moved all the flowers outside. I sat in the bedroom, clutching Susan’s urn and sobbing uncontrollably. Bottle after bottle of liquor was emptied as their cruel laughter filtered through the door. Seriously, what’s the deal with him, Rachel? Is he trying to open a flower shop with all those lilies? He’s pathetic, just like his mother. What a loser. Leaving lilies is like wishing Rachel an early death. Come on, Rachel, it was just a game of Truth or Dare with Nathan. Is he really that petty? Talk about a man who can’t take a joke. I’d heard these insults countless times, and each time, Rachel remained silent, never defending me. She had promised me that this place was our secret hideout where no one else was allowed. Just the two of us. But now, she had broken our promise. She even brought her group of fair-weather friends into our home, with Nathan by her side. To her, Nathan was the one who got away, her idealized first love. Ever since he returned to the country, Rachel’s eyes had been constantly drawn to him. When I was starting my business, I asked Rachel to spot me a few thousand dollars to get things rolling. I didn’t want to always be in her shadow。 I wanted to be able to take care of the woman I loved. She refused. “You’re going to be my husband. You shouldn’t have to do things like that.” But then she turned around and threw a lavish birthday bash for Nathan. When I expressed my hurt, she simply said, “Nathan’s my childhood friend. Don’t be silly. He won’t come between us.” Was that true? Later, a single phone call from Nathan was enough to make her rush out, leaving me to stay up all night, sick with worry. Her excuse was that work at the company was too busy. But I knew the truth. It wasn’t that she was too busy. It was that her heart was no longer with me. So even if Susan had a heart attack, she’d think we were just faking it. Rachel’s eyes lowered in disgust when she saw my disheveled state. “What game are you trying to play now?” Nathan took a step back, looking me up and down. “Ryan? What’s gotten into you, man? Even if you got the wrong idea about me and Rachel, that’s no excuse to let yourself go like this.” His words drew the attention of Rachel’s group of friends, their gazes settling on me. Susan’s passing had left me sleepless for days, dark circles prominent under my eyes. Their judgmental stares cut deep. One of them sneered, “Wow, Ryan, you’re really pulling out all the stops to win Rachel back, huh?” Another chimed in, “Let me guess, Rachel mentioned she’d be here. So you showed up looking all heartbroken, hoping she’d fall for your pity party?” Keep dreaming, you pathetic loser! I bet Rachel had no clue I blocked her ages ago. Not a single one of her messages had gotten through. All those nights she was out partying with her friends, carelessly plastering her drunk selfies all over Instagram, I was at home, clutching Susan’s ashes, crying like a child.

Are you done? Rachel glanced at me indifferently, casually strolling to the couch and sitting down, just like after every argument we’d ever had. “If you’re finished, get off your ass and clean this dump. We’ve got people coming over later.” I suddenly burst out laughing. Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Ryan, have you lost your mind? You’re a just freaking sugar baby. How dare you laugh?” I laughed so hard tears came to my eyes. Rachel frowned, repeating with forced patience, “Ryan, I said I’m throwing a party here.” In Rachel’s eyes, Susan and I combined didn’t measure up to Nathan. Even when Susan had angina, Rachel thought she was faking it. The first time Susan was supposed to meet her, Rachel claimed to be busy with work. I later found out she was actually picking up Nathan from the airport. Each time, she stabbed me in the heart, leaving it a bloody mess. On our wedding day, Nathan used the excuse of being drunk on business. In reality, he was just playing truth or dare with his friends. They wanted to see if Rachel would really leave me for him. Susan grabbed Rachel’s hand, pleading, “Rachel, my son truly loves you. We consider you one of our own. Can’t you at least sign the marriage certificate first?” I couldn’t give up. “Rachel, I need you,” I said desperately. But she firmly pushed Susan’s hand away. “You’ll be fine without me, Ryan. Nathan needs me.” She then roared past in her car. As she straddled Nathan’s lap, flirting and blushing, Susan’s life slipped away in my arms, breath by breath. I looked up sharply at Rachel, my eyes rimmed with red. “What? Are you planning to throw a party in front of my mother’s urn?” The room fell silent, broken only by Nathan’s sudden, inappropriate laugh. “Sorry,” he said, looking apologetic. “Couldn’t help it.” Nathan spoke with an air of feigning sincerity and patience. “Ryan, I know you’ve got the wrong idea about Rachel and me, but isn’t it a bit much to talk about your mom like that?” He explained slowly, “That day, we were playing Truth or Dare. If I’d known you and Rachel were about to get married, I never would have let her come.” Rachel’s friends had already closed ranks around Nathan. Not one of them believed a word I said. It was just like that day when Rachel refused to believe Susan was having a heart attack. If Nathan hadn’t called Rachel away on purpose, Susan wouldn’t have gotten so upset that it triggered her heart attack. My fists were clenched, and my eyes were bloodshot with anger. Nathan took a cautious step back. Rachel moved to stand in front of him. “Are you done? Your mom was always in good health. Isn’t it a bit much to use this to provoke me?” She hadn’t shown any concern for Susan’s condition that day, not even a single word of care. Susan’s dying wish was for Rachel and me to stay together. But what about her? Ryan, my patience has its limits, I spoke coldly. Rachel thought I’d give in like before, apologize, and try to win her back. But she was wrong. I grew up in a single-parent home. My father passed away in an accident when I was three. It had been just Susan and me for over twenty years. A few years ago, I neglected Susan’s health because of Rachel. I offered her my whole heart, and now she had shattered it completely.” Are you done talking? If so, please leave. My voice was ice-cold as I pushed through the crowd to retrieve Susan’s urn. Rachel grabbed my wrist, her tone a mix of frustration and compromise. “Ryan, please don’t be like this.” Disappointment flickered in her eyes. “You weren’t like this before.” It was funny how we always wanted what we couldn’t have. Back when I was head over heels for Rachel, she couldn’t care less. Now that I was done with it all, she was suddenly interested. Now, the tables had turned. I pried her fingers off, creating some distance between us. “Tell me then, what was I like before? Your lapdog? A shameless pretty boy?” I scoffed, and my voice was low. “A sugar baby?” I paused, then delivered the final blow. “Or maybe…just useless?” Rachel’s face drained of color. “Ryan…” These were the names her so-called friends used for me. Just because I stood by her side, I became the target of their cruel labels. Rachel was the pampered daughter of a wealthy family. On our first date, she got a craving for dessert from Cassie’s Dessert. I scoured the city, but every shop had closed up for the night. Determined not to let her down, I hopped on the subway, rented a bike, and even hoofed it for miles. To get her favorite cupcake, I braved Sycamore Avenue despite my allergy to sycamore fluff. With a face flushed bright red from the allergic reaction, I carefully handed her the cupcake. She nestled against me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Her lips met mine in a sweet, happy kiss. “Ryan,” she said, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Back then, I really thought I’d touched her heart. I gave everything I had, holding nothing back. Even when Rachel’s friends openly insulted me, I didn’t care. I naively believed that as long as I stayed by Rachel’s side, we’d find happiness someday. Later, she met Susan. My mom adored her, often sending homemade soup to her office. She worried Rachel might skip meals due to her busy schedule. Make sure Rachel’s well-fed and healthy, Susan would tell me. What Susan didn’t know was that Rachel never tasted a single drop of that soup. I once saw her, from around the corner, pouring Susan’s carefully prepared chicken soup down the drain. “Handle it like this from now on,” she coldly instructed her secretary. Meanwhile, Susan would say, “Rachel must have sophisticated tastes. I’ll stop sending the soup. I’ve saved up quite a bit over the years. Find out what Rachel likes to eat and treat her to that. It’s the least I can do.” In Rachel’s words, Susan, a kind-hearted, generous old lady, had become a villain who faked illness just to lure her back for a marriage certificate. The doctor said if we’d arrived just a few minutes earlier, Susan might have lived. Rachel had robbed Susan of her fighting chance. A tidal wave of grief and anger crashed over me, leaving me drowning in bitterness. Rachel glared at me, rolling their eyes dramatically. “Ryan, watch your mouth!” Look at yourself. We’re being generous, calling you sugar baby… Enough, Rachel snapped, her face darkening. The group exchanged uneasy glances. Well, well. So she could shut them up after all. It dawned on me that their constant disrespect had always had Rachel’s tacit approval. Maybe she’d looked down on me all along.

This time, Rachel deigned to explain herself. “Look, I’ll admit I didn’t think it through earlier. But it was an emergency. We can always get the marriage license another day, right?” She turned to me with a placating smile. “How about this, Ryan? Next Monday, you can pick me up and we’ll head to the city hall together. We’ll make it official then.” Even as she tried to make amends, she couldn’t shake off her haughty, entitled attitude. In the past, I would have caved. I would have turned back, wrapped my arms around her waist, and playfully bitten her neck, saying, “Don’t let it happen again.” But now, my eyes were cold, my tone strange. “Don’t bother,” I said. “The almighty Ms. Quinn wouldn’t lower herself to take back someone she’s already tossed aside, would she?” It was the first time I’d ever addressed her so formally, so distantly. Rachel was in shock. She took a sharp breath, steadying herself against the table’s edge, unable to believe what she’d just heard. Ryan, she said, her voice quivering. “Are you really breaking up with me over something so petty?” Petty? What the hell counts as petty to her? I let out a bitter laugh inwardly. “Is my mother’s death just a minor inconvenience?” Fury coursed through me, my arm muscles taut with anger. My voice came out low and dangerous, each word like a clap of thunder. “What about you, Rachel? You haven’t asked about my mom even once.” Rachel stiffened, her eyes darting away. “Your mom’s healthy. Even two Nathans combined couldn’t match up to her. Fine, if it’s about this, I’ll buy some health supplements for your mom later, she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her tone dripped with condescension. The others chimed in eagerly, “Rachel’s doing you a favor, Ryan. Don’t you know when you’re getting a good deal? Those supplements cost thousands of dollars. Where would your country bumpkin mom ever get to eat such good stuff otherwise?” My throat tightened, leaving me speechless. It was ridiculous. Even now, Rachel believed Susan coveted her wealth and status. When I brought her home to meet Susan, she came empty-handed. I chalked it up to absent-mindedness. Later, I realized she not only looked down on me but was wary of Susan, too. Her friends had badmouthed Susan behind our backs. “What a liar! Heart disease? Please! If it was that bad, how’s she still kicking after all these years?” I bet Ryan’s just eager to be a wealthy sugar baby. He’s probably got his mom faking heart problems to guilt-trip you, Rachel. Don’t fall for it! And Rachel actually bought it. While Susan was alive, Rachel gave away all the health supplements to her so-called friends. Now that Susan was gone, she was falling over herself to bring offerings. The irony was laughable. That won’t be necessary, I said coldly. Suddenly, Nathan let out a startled cry. “Oh!” Rachel instinctively moved closer to Nathan, her eyes filled with concern. “Nathan, what’s wrong?” Nathan pointed at the memorial photo on the table, his voice shaking. “Rachel, why is Ryan’s mom’s photo here? Does that mean…” Rachel’s eyelid twitched. “No, it can’t be.” People always tended to deceive themselves. If Rachel had thought about it carefully, she would have remembered how Susan often struggled to breathe when they met and how heart medication was scattered all over their house. If she had just considered it for a moment, she would have known that Susan truly had a heart condition. One of Rachel’s friends immediately sneered, “Ryan must have made a memorial photo of his own mother just to win Rachel back. How disgusting!” Jeez, Ryan, another chimed in. “Pull stunts like this and karma’s gonna bite you in the ass.” Their gaze was like looking at disgusting lice. Even Rachel’s face twisted with disapproval. “Ryan, I can’t believe you’d do something like this. If your aunt found out…” I closed my eyes, a headache building. “She’s not going to find out.” Rachel had never seen me this serious before. Her tone softened instantly. “Ryan…” I was done with these people. All I wanted was to take Susan’s ashes and leave. “If you won’t go, I will.” As I picked up the urn, Rachel sneered. “Trying to play the victim again?” She shot a look at her cronies, who immediately surrounded me. Nathan snatched the urn from my hands. Come on, Ryan, he said. “You don’t have to do this.” Nathan leaned in close, lowering his voice. “Ryan, maybe save those flowers outside for your mom. She’s always faking heart problems. Might come in handy when she finally kicks the bucket.” I struggled wildly, trying to swing at him, but was held back firmly. “Nathan! I’ll kill you!” Oops, Nathan exclaimed as the urn slipped from his hands, scattering white powder across the floor. His face showed mock regret, but his words dripped with accusation. “Sorry, Ryan. I spilled that ‘baby formula’ you brought. But hey, waste not, want not. We can feed it to Anna. Might as well put it to good use.” My blood ran cold. Anna was Nathan’s dog. What are you planning to do? I asked, horrified. Rachel chimed in, “Good idea. Waste not, want not, after all.” I looked at Rachel, pleading, “No, Rachel, please…” But she just scoffed indifferently, “Ryan, don’t you love acting? Keep going, I’m watching!” My heart felt dead inside. A metallic taste filled my mouth, “Rachel, you’ll regret this!!” Damn, you’re really selling it,” someone nearby chuckled, instantly easing Rachel’s hesitation. I watched as Nathan added warm water to the ashes, and the Doberman tentatively licked the contents of the bowl. No! It felt like an invisible hand clenched my heart. The pain was suffocating. I broke free, landing a hard punch on Nathan’s face, screaming like a madman, “That’s my mom’s ashes! You monster! I’ll kill you!” Tears streamed down my face as I furiously pinned Nathan down, raining punches on him. Even as several people restrained my limbs, I glared at the couple before me, my eyes bloodshot with fury. Have you lost your mind, Ryan? Trying to kill Nathan over a can of formula? Rachel cried out, frantically checking Nathan for injuries without sparing me a glance. My voice came out raw, like I’d been gargling gravel. “Rachel, I wish I’d never fallen for you. If I’d known loving you would cost me my mother, I’d have wished we’d never met.” Rachel flinched, then wiped the blood from Nathan’s lip. Her voice dripped with contempt as she said, “Keep this act up, Ryan, and I might just find someone else to marry.” My sobs turned into hysterical laughter as I glared at Rachel with pure hatred. “I hate you, Rachel,” I choked out, my voice weak with emotion. “I hate you!” Rachel’s patience had run out. “Ryan, you can drop the act now…” Before she could finish, her friend Wendy approached hesitantly, holding a document. “Rachel,” she said, her voice uncertain, “I have a death certificate here. It looks like Ryan’s mom… It seems like she really did pass away.”

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My husband gave away our newborn son to repay a war buddy who once saved his life. He lied to me, saying our child had died. Years later, I accidentally learned our son was alive. When I confronted my husband, he simply said, “I owed him this.” I tried to find our child, but my husband blocked every attempt. Consumed by grief and regret over losing my son, I eventually died of a broken heart. Incredibly, I woke up again. Back on the day I gave birth. “You like giving away children? Then you can die childless!” ***** A sharp pain jolted me awake. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, and I cried out. I tried to move, but my swollen belly pinned me down. “What’s wrong? Is it time?” a voice asked urgently. The door swung open as a man strode in, carrying two lunch boxes in one hand. He was tall and muscular, with striking features, sharp eyebrows and piercing eyes. His military uniform exuded an air of authority. Every inch of him radiated the vigor of youth. This was my husband, Tyler Davenport. But how had he become so young? Confused, I stared at Tyler, unable to look away. Before I could make sense of it, he was at my bedside, his face etched with worry and urgency. In one swift motion, he scooped me up from the bed. The fresh scent of soap filled my nostrils as his concerned voice, tinged with severity, reached my ears. “Your water broke and you didn’t call anyone? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? You could’ve risked both your lives!” As we passed through the living room, my eyes caught the calendar on the wall. My heart raced as my fingers unconsciously gripped the rough fabric. I had been reborn, back to the day I gave birth. In my past life, I had labored for over two hours to bring this child into the world. Tyler immediately gave the baby to his war buddy. He lied to me, saying our child was too weak and didn’t survive. I believed him, blaming myself for being unable to keep our baby alive. Later, I discovered the truth by chance, but when I tried to get my child back, Tyler blocked me at every turn. When I confronted him, his face was cold, his words matter-of-fact. “George lost his chance to be a father while saving my life. I owe him this child. “He’ll never have another kid, but we can have plenty more. Gwen, forget about that baby. It’s better for everyone if we just pretend it didn’t make it.” “It’s better for everyone?” I scoffed inwardly. “It’s better for you!” That was my child, carried for nine months and born through my pain. It was not some gift to repay his kindness! I had a huge fight with Tyler and set out to find my baby. But Tyler’s influence grew. His power became almost limitless. He always managed to cut off any leads I found. My efforts were in vain. Living with the pain and regret of losing my child, I died of a broken heart before I even hit 45. Then, by some miracle, I got a second chance at life. This time, I swore, no one would take my baby from me! The joy of rebirth overwhelmed me. My heart raced, and my breathing quickened. No, I couldn’t let Tyler be the only one with me when I gave birth. I was due any day now. “Wait,” I said through gritted teeth, fighting the pain. “Send a telegram to my family. Ask my mother to come take care of me. This is my first child. I’m terrified.” I tilted my head back, catching only the sharp line of Tyler’s jaw. He chuckled softly, looking down at me. “It’s harvest season. Your mother probably can’t spare the time. Don’t worry, I’m your husband. I’ll make sure you and the baby are safe.” As he spoke, he gathered the supplies for the delivery. My heart sank. Next door, Samantha Moore heard the commotion. She opened her door and called out, “Is Gwen in labor? Do you need any help?” Samantha was the partner of a high-ranking government official. She was known for her warmth and fairness. We got along well. With her around, it would be harder for Tyler to try anything suspicious. A flicker of hope sparked in my chest. With a trembling voice, I pleaded, “Samantha, could you please come with me to the hospital? It’s my first time having a baby, and I’m so nervous my heart’s about to jump out of my chest.”

Samantha set down the half-finished shoe insole and flashed a warm smile. “Of course! I’ll go with you. You two are first-time parents, so you’re bound to be all over the place. I can help make sure things go smoothly.” Her quick agreement made my anxiety ease a bit. But just as I started to relax, Tyler’s cool voice came from above. He politely declined Samantha’s offer with well-reasoned arguments. “Samantha, Ryan is still little. He needs you around. What would he do if you went to the hospital? Besides, it’s not good for kids to spend too much time in a place with so many people coming and going.” Ryan was Samantha’s youngest, just two years old and full of energy. Tyler’s words struck a chord with her. As a mother, her children always came first. Samantha began to waver. Sensing this, Tyler pressed his advantage, determined to put her mind at ease. He smiled, “I’ve already checked out the hospital. I know the place inside and out. Plus, I’m a grown man – I can take care of my wife and kid. Don’t worry about a thing, Samantha.” Samantha nodded repeatedly, clearly convinced. My heart, which had been half-settled, now raced with renewed anxiety. Spurred by a wave of pain, I reached for Samantha’s hand, my voice pleading. “Samantha, I’m in so much pain and I’m scared. Could you please come with me to the hospital?” I repeatedly expressed my fears. It was infuriating that no one knew about Tyler’s plan, and even if I said it now, no one would believe me. After all, how could a normal person secretly give away his child without telling his wife? In my past life, I’d been brainwashed into thinking the kid was dead. If I hadn’t stumbled across that money transfer, I’d never have known how “selfless” and “noble” my husband was, giving away his own child. I was in so much pain that I was sweating profusely, my lips pale. I looked pitiful. Samantha’s face showed sympathy, and she was about to agree. “Alright, I guess I could…” At that moment, a child’s loud cry rang out from Samantha’s house. A boy, about seven or eight years old, ran out calling for help. “Mom! The baby pooped all over himself and the bed. It stinks!” Samantha’s face fell, her priorities instantly shifting. She gave an embarrassed smile. “Oh Gwen, I’m so sorry. There’s always something going on at home. I can’t get away right now, but I promise I’ll visit you at the hospital after you give birth. With Tyler by your side, I’m not worried about you at all.” If only she knew that Tyler was exactly why I was worried! The baby’s cries grew louder. Samantha hurried back inside to comfort the child. Tyler carefully adjusted his hold on me, still wearing that “I’ve got everything under control” expression. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you,” he said. The pain was too much for me to speak. I just rolled my eyes at him from the safety of his arms. Then, wrapping my arms around his neck, I sank my teeth into the soft flesh of his throat. “Ouch…” Tyler hissed through his teeth. I felt a surge of satisfaction hearing him in pain. Why should I be the only one suffering? This baby was half his doing, after all. My small act of revenge did little to lift the heaviness in my heart. A sense of helpless dread was threatening to overwhelm me, knowing the dangers that lay ahead but being powerless to avoid them. But I couldn’t just accept my fate. Surely, I wasn’t given this second chance just to repeat the mistakes of my past life! I released Tyler’s neck and leaned against his shoulder, gathering my strength. With Samantha out of the picture, the hospital was my last hope. We made our way down the stairs and through the residential complex. A car was already waiting for us at the main gate. Tyler carried me steadily, his grip never faltering. People stared as we passed, their eyes a mix of envy and admiration. “Mr. Davenport is so capable and thoughtful,” I overheard someone say. “I heard he took two weeks off work to take care of Gwen. Why can’t my husband be more like him?” “Humph, why does Gwen get such special treatment?” someone chimed in. “I remember when I went into labor, I was still out there husking corn. I gave birth right then and there. And when I went home, I had to carry the baby and half a basket of corn on my back!” In my past life, I thought they were just jealous, and I felt so lucky. Now, their words drip with irony. Tyler, the man everyone saw as the perfect husband, was planning to steal my baby out of some twisted sense of obligation. When I confronted him, he had the nerve to suggest I should have more children. In my previous life, I trusted Tyler completely. I never realized how dangerous it was to give birth without family by my side. This time around, I was still alone and helpless. The only difference was that now I knew what he was planning.

In the car, Tyler held me close, whispering words of comfort while repeatedly urging the driver to go faster. His face was a mask of concern as if he’d gladly take my place if he could. The perfect picture of a devoted husband. I closed my eyes to rest with a faint, sardonic smile. “Tyler,” I wondered, “is all this fuss really about my safety and the baby’s? Or are you just worried that if something goes wrong with the child, you won’t be able to repay your war buddy’s life-saving favor? Every day this baby isn’t handed over is another day of torment for your conscience, isn’t it?” The rest of the journey passed in silence. At the hospital, I was rushed into the delivery room. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights made my eyes ache. Drawing on my experience from a past life, I focused on controlling my breathing and pushing rhythm. I lost track of time as the pain washed over me. Suddenly, I felt a release, as if something had slipped away from my body. “Waaah!” The baby’s clear cry rang out once, then abruptly stopped. “Why isn’t my baby crying?” I thought and struggled to sit up, catching only a glimpse of a nurse hurrying away. “My baby! Where are you taking my child?” I cried out. I tried to follow, but the doctor firmly held me down on the delivery bed. His mask covered most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible. They held a familiar look of pity. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your baby was stillborn. For your own health, you shouldn’t experience extreme emotions right after giving birth. It’s best to let your husband handle the arrangements for the child.” My heart froze and burned with anger. It was clear now – Tyler had bought off the doctor and nurses before I even went into labor. No matter what condition I or the baby were in after birth, they would all stick to the same story. The baby didn’t make it. In my previous life, I’d passed out from exhaustion and believed every word from Tyler and the medical staff. But now, living through this a second time, I saw right through Tyler’s plan. I didn’t believe a single word they said. “Hang on, my little one,” I thought to myself. “Mommy will find you. I promise.” With fury in my eyes, I slapped the doctor’s hand away and demanded, “I heard my baby cry! Where have you taken my child?” The doctor, unfazed by the blow, shook his head with a resigned look. “Several babies were born around the same time as yours. It’s easy to get confused. You’re still young. Once you’ve recovered, you can have more children.” The words and tone were all too familiar. The doctor’s face kept shifting before my eyes. One moment, I was back in military housing, surrounded by gossiping wives. “Gwen, dear, you can always have another baby. But if you lose your marriage, you lose everything.” “Don’t be angry with Mr. Davenport. Giving up the baby hurts him too. That man saved his life, which was a debt that outweighs everything. How can he be at peace if he doesn’t repay it?” Then, it was Tyler’s impatient face. “Gwen, how long are you going to keep this up? George can’t have children anymore because he saved me. I owe him. “It’s only right that I give him a child to care for him in his old age.” I clenched my fists, crumpling the sheets beneath me. It seemed like Tyler was the only person in the world who had it tough. Tyler was tortured by guilt over the debt he owed George for saving his life. That was why he felt compelled to give away his own son to ease his conscience. He was so conflicted, so anguished. And I, as Tyler’s wife, was apparently committing a grave sin. Instead of joyfully handing our child over to George without a second thought, I kept causing trouble, constantly demanding we find and bring our baby home. I was turning our household upside down, driving Tyler to his wit’s end. How utterly unforgivable of me! Those women were quick to advise me to give up on the child. Of course, it was easy for them to preach generosity. It wasn’t their baby at stake. Tyler, that shameless man, had the audacity to unzip his pants and offer to “bless” me with another child. He made it sound so simple. He wouldn’t be the one enduring nine months of pregnancy, so naturally, he could use our baby to repay his debt. All to clear his conscience and earn a reputation for gratitude. How convenient for him. But no one had asked if I was willing. All the resentment, heartache, and frustration from my past and present lives erupted at once. Suddenly, I felt filled with strength. That was my child. No one could take it away! I grabbed the doctor’s collar, using him for support as I sat up. My scream was hoarse with rage. “What gives you the right to say my baby is dead? I want proof! If you’ve got nothing to hide, why won’t you let me see my child?” The doctor’s face turned red as the collar tightened around his neck. A nearby nurse rushed over to pry my fingers loose. The doctor cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from the ordeal. “Ahem! The patient is becoming hysterical. We need a sedative, stat!” He had just managed to break free from the restraints. Rubbing his sore wrists, he croaked out orders to the nurse. The nurse swiftly handed him a syringe and pushed me back down onto the bed. The doctor pressed the plunger, the sharp needle glinting as it moved towards me.

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As I settled into the plush leather seat of my wife’s luxury car, my eyes caught sight of cigarette ash scattered on the passenger side. My wife simply answered, “My new assistant is rather careless.” I filed for divorce, and her expression shifted to disbelief. “Is that all it takes to break us?” “Yes, that’s all it takes.” ***** Truth be told, I was not the petty type. Yet, when I once sat in my wife’s car and pulled out a cigarette case, she snatched it from my hand and hurled it out the window. Her face was contorted with disgust. “No smoking in my car! How many times must I tell you that?” For a moment, I could only offer a wry smile and pocket the lighter. So, when I spotted cigarette ash in her car, I realized her mysophobia wasn’t the issue; she was merely selective in her rules. Clearly, I wasn’t the one who could bend her principles. I had been married to Cindy Smith for three years. Over that time, Cindy had transformed from a fresh face in the company to a powerhouse in the workplace. Those who knew her well addressed her as Ms. Smith. I was merely the docile spouse trailing behind her shadow. Few knew that when Cindy and I ventured into business together, she suffered a miscarriage due to a drunken altercation with a client. I urged her to recuperate at home, but she refused. Unable to bear watching her suffer, I retreated, taking on the logistics behind the scenes. However, Cindy seemed to have forgotten that I once was a figure in the business world. I chose to step back out of pity for her, yet now, in her eyes, I had become a burden. Arriving at the company, I sent her the divorce papers. Cindy was stunned. “What are you doing? “Daniel Whitman, is there someone else in your life?” I offered a wry smile, “You really don’t know?” She took a deep breath. “Is it because we haven’t had a child in three years of marriage? “Didn’t I make it clear? I don’t want children! Can you stop pressuring me?” The “you” she referred to were my parents. Last time, when we went home for dinner, my mother made subtle jabs about having a grandchild. Cindy was displeased, resenting my mother for bringing up the topic. Initially, Cindy excused her poor health, but since my retirement, I had spent every day cooking for her, and her health had long since recovered. “No.” I pulled out my cigarette case, ready to light up, but Cindy slapped it away! “I’ve told you, no smoking around me!” I was taken aback, noticing the red mark she left on my hand, and my anger flared! “Others can smoke in your car, but not me, right? “Your mysophobia is just for me! And you ask why I want a divorce? What do you think?” It was the first time I raised my voice in front of Cindy. She was stunned for a moment, then realized her actions and fell silent. “Sign it, and let’s part ways amicably!” Seeing my resolve, Cindy couldn’t help but yell, “He’s a new hire this year with valuable connections. Otherwise, why would I indulge him? “Daniel, if you haven’t retired now, how can I possibly be this exhausted?” Little did Cindy know that her eyes brimmed with contempt as she complained about me. There was no underlying resentment but palpable disdain that spoke volumes of her current feelings in her eyes. I couldn’t help but sneer, “Since you’re so tired and see me as a burden, why not divorce me? “Sign it!” Seeing my insistence on divorce, Cindy made a scene and refused to sign, kicking me out directly! As I stepped out, the office outside was eerily quiet. I spotted a young man at once, and he looked at me with a peculiar expression. “Daniel! Ms. Smith has been working too hard lately, so she’s upset. Don’t take it personally.” I glanced at his badge, revealing his position as Cindy’s assistant. The realization that he was the one smoking struck me. I thought, “With such a young hottie, no wonder Cindy naturally looked down on me.” I ignored his words and turned to leave, but he insisted on escorting me out. “Daniel, if I were in your shoes, I’d leave sooner rather than later. Being a kept man isn’t as sweet as it seems, especially when you’re utterly useless and can’t assist her in any way!”

He was convinced that I was nothing more than a leech, and his tone towards me had lost its former respect. I watched as I reached out to remove his work badge, rubbing it between my fingers before gazing at him. “Do you really think I’m living off her?” “What else could it be? Ms. Smith works tirelessly. A man like you isn’t fit to be by her side. Leave now. Don’t ever show your face at the company again, lest you anger Ms. Smith!” With those words, he snatched the badge from my hand, turned on his heel, and departed by fastening it to his collar. I watched his retreating figure and couldn’t help but sneer. Everyone labeled me as the insignificant man behind Cindy’s success. But few knew the truth. When Cindy’s company, Smith Group, was on the brink of collapse, it was my family who offered three million dollars to save it from ruin. As she gradually found her footing, Cindy threw herself into her work with relentless vigor. To shield her from excessive drinking and to ease her burdens, I secretly reached out to my father’s influential friends. It was through securing a steady stream of orders for Smith Group that Cindy ascended to the pinnacle of her industry, transforming into a formidable force. Now that the company was stable, did she intend to abandon me and look down on me? Cindy likely forgot the humble pleas for help she once made. It had only been three years, and she probably assumed my family had fallen into decline after witnessing our move from a lavish villa to a modest apartment and then to a junior suite, didn’t she? I couldn’t help but chuckle. My parents merely felt the grand house was too vast and lonely for the two of them, so they opted for a cozier abode. In reality, we still owned villas and expansive apartments. Upon returning home, I went straight to my parents. My mother frowned upon seeing my dejected state. “Why are you here alone? Where’s Cindy?” “Mom, Dad, I want a divorce.” My mother was stunned upon hearing this. “Why the sudden divorce? You must think this through carefully!” My father also scrutinized me with a grave expression. “After three years of marriage, you’re calling it quits. Did we offend her last time when we urged her to be pregnant?” I took a drag from my cigarette and exhaled a long sigh. “I feel like I’ve become a pushover, unworthy of her.” Hearing this, my parents burst into laughter. “I suppose they thought our family was in dire straits. You’re not working now, so after benefiting from us, she wants to cut ties and kick you out! “Is she cheating on you?” I nodded. “Absolutely!” Mental infidelity, though not physical, was still a betrayal of the heart. Even amidst my uncertainty, I could discern from Cindy’s demeanor around the young man that their connection transcended the boundaries of casual friendship. My mother slammed the table. “She cheats on you during marriage and still has the audacity to disdain you. If that’s the case, then by all means, divorce!” I was a bit taken aback. My mother looked at me and comforted me. “Don’t worry. Our family isn’t the type to cling. We don’t covet Smith Group! “We still have some resources left.” My father led me to the study and handed me a stack of documents. Upon opening them, I was astonished. “Dad, you have so many ventures!” My father was quite proud. “Of course, I don’t dabble in what I can’t handle. The three million dollars I invested in Smith Group before was just a drop in the ocean! “If I were to throw three hundred million dollars at Cindy, she’d surely leap at the chance and latch onto us to drain our resources. “Your mother and I extended our help to Cindy because we believed it would pave the way for a harmonious life between you two. But we never expected her to be so ungrateful and turn her back on us! “In that case, let’s not hold back. We don’t need people like her!” With my father’s backing, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. Now that I had money, I could proceed without reservation!

Previously, I had imagined our family’s wealth to be at most in the tens of millions of dollars, but now it appeared to be an order of magnitude greater. At that moment, I nodded and greeted my father’s old companions. My father had invited them to dinner, announcing his intention to make a grand return to the business world and entrust everything to me. Upon hearing this, his friends lit up with joy, clapping me on the shoulder. “Daniel, your dad has finally seen the light. He retired early, saying he wanted to bask in the joy of grandchildren, but here he is, three years later, back for you!” I felt a twinge of guilt. “It’s all for me. It’s not right for me to just lounge at home at such a young age. I might as well venture out and test my fate.” “Absolutely! Come intern at my company!” Bob Short, who had watched me grow, extended a warm invitation. “Spend some time with me and get a feel for things. There’s no rush; treat it like a game! “And I’ve got a new project kicking off. How about you give me your thoughts?” “No problem.” I agreed readily, and my father smiled in approval. After that meal, the entire market landscape shifted. Though my father had left the business world, his legend endured. As his son, I was naturally a chip off the old block. Bob was the first to court me, not just for our longstanding friendship but more for the resources my family commanded. To bolster Smith Group and Cindy, my father leveraged his connections to a certain extent. That explained why Cindy’s ascent was so meteoric. But now, the tide turned. With my decision to act, Smith Group’s fortunes would change. After the meal, I returned to pack my belongings. Just as I finished, Cindy arrived. The alcohol on her breath spoke volumes of her state of inebriation. Predictably, it was the young man who had escorted her home. Cindy sneered at the sight of me, but upon noticing the luggage beside me, she was irritated. “Daniel, what are you planning?” “A divorce. Didn’t I make that clear?” I handed her the printed divorce agreement. “Return the 300,000 dollars I invested, and I won’t ask for anything else. “Just sign it. After all, someone is waiting for you.” My words carried weight, and Cindy flushed with rage. “You! Just wait for me!” “Fine, I will see you at nine tomorrow morning!” With that, I dragged my suitcase and left without a backward glance. The man beside Cindy shot me a contemptuous smirk, but I paid him no heed. If he fancied Cindy, he was welcome to her. I had no desire for her anymore. Upon returning to my parents’ home, that man quickly sent me a friend request. Opening it, I discovered his name was Max George. He sent me a video of Cindy lying on the bed. Their fingers were interlaced. The video revealed Cindy’s nightgown, a stark contrast to the regular clothes she had on when she returned. Who else could be in the house but Max? I thought, “Max had no shame, but that was fine by me. Given that his bond with Cindy had transcended the realm of mere friendship, it was only fitting for me to seek a divorce from Cindy.” Pondering this, I messaged Max. Daniel: [Has she signed the divorce agreement? Max, surely you haven’t lost your charm? You’ve managed to draw her into your embrace, yet she’s still not ready to commit to you!] Max erupted in anger. I was about to send an emoji when a red exclamation point appeared. He deleted me! I smiled, put my phone away, and was about to rest when there was a knock on the door. “Daniel, come out! “You brat, how dare you mention divorce? Who do you think you are? Get out here now!”

I leaped up with a mix of excitement and disbelief coursing through me. Why was Lily Smith here? My parents, equally perturbed, opened the door to welcome our unexpected guests. Lily was Cindy’s sister, whose existence was defined by indulgence. There she was, alongside her husband, Jason Brown, standing in our living room. Their fury was palpable. Catching sight of me, Lily sneered, “Mr. and Mrs. Whitman, you’ve really outdone yourselves with your parenting. Teaching a son like Daniel is truly an eye-opener!” “Thank you.” My mother replied coolly and perched on the sofa with an air of nonchalance. Lily was momentarily taken aback. My mother might have been considered polite, but her tone was anything but. Lily stood there, momentarily lost for words, until Jason piped up, “Your family is utterly heartless. You’ve lived off Cindy for three years, but you now want a divorce? “When Cindy called us, she said Daniel was filing for divorce and wanted 300,000 dollars! What’s this? Trying to split the family fortune?” I scoffed, “Family fortune? Cindy’s worth is over thirty million dollars. Is it wrong to take back my three million dollars? “If you think it’s too much, I can sue. I’ll consult a lawyer right away. Given her infidelity during marriage, don’t I deserve greater recompense?” “What did you say? How dare you slander her?” I presented the video Max had given me, thrusting it into their line of sight. “Take a good look. We’re all adults here. She’s lying on the bed with another man! Shouldn’t I seek a divorce?” They were unprepared for this turn of events. Thanks to Max, Cindy’s face was vividly clear on the screen, and the soft moans escaping her pink lips were enough to bring a blush to Lily’s cheeks. My mother slammed her palm on the table and shouted, “What a shameless daughter your family has raised! Cindy cheats during marriage, bringing her lover back to the marital bed, but now you dare question my son! “Lily, is this how you’ve taught your sister?” Lily, caught off guard by the revelation, flushed with embarrassment. Thanks to Cindy, Lily had lived like a queen at home. Her hand was never far from the purse strings when it came to jewelry, and her demeanor was haughty at every social gathering. Little did they know that they were all benefiting from the largesse of my family. Now, they had the audacity to confront me, only to be blindsided by this video. I smiled, “Go back and tell Cindy to sign the divorce papers, or I’ll release this video to the public! “Our family isn’t what it once was. If anything were to happen to us, there’s not much left for us to lose. But for your family, the stakes are entirely different.” The Smith family had only recently risen to prominence, so their roots were not yet deep enough to secure their newfound status. Acutely aware of their vulnerability, Lily could easily foresee the collapse that would ensue if Cindy were to falter. She felt scared. Jason was equally anxious and blurted out, “You can’t divorce! You’ve been married for three years!” Ignoring their pleas, I stated with a solemnity that brooked no argument, “You have three days. If Cindy doesn’t agree to the divorce, I’ll send the video to the media. By then, your family is doomed!” My ultimatum sent them into a frenzy. Lily hesitated, unable to form a coherent response for a long while. My mother, ever direct, opened the door and physically ejected them from our home. She turned to me. “If I had known they were this despicable, we should have cut ties long ago. Why wait until now? “You’re too soft-hearted sometimes.” I sighed. It wasn’t soft-heartedness that held me back. From the start, I had hoped for a happy life with Cindy. When we first crossed paths, I was genuinely taken with Cindy. She embodied an air of pure innocence. It was apparent, in every gesture and word, that she had been nurtured with the utmost care and refinement. But I was deceived by her appearance. Once she had used me to achieve her ambitions, she cast me aside like a spent tool.

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On the day of my wedding with Quinn Lee, her cherished friend, Edward Smith, abruptly collapsed, prompting her to abandon the ceremony and rush him to the hospital, leaving me behind. My mother, Lily Blake, was seated below when the shocking scene unfolded before her eyes. The sudden distress triggered a heart attack. Yet, amidst the chaos, the onlookers merely stood by and laughed as if it were all a grand jest. No one stepped forward to offer aid. By the time I sent her to the hospital, the critical moment for saving her had slipped away. It was then that I got a call from Quinn. “Shawn Blake, where are you? Edward is ill and in need of your bone marrow!” “Quinn, we’re through!” I declared, ending the call and leaving. This time, I wouldn’t look back. ***** Five years prior, I had been the savior of Edward after a successful bone marrow transplant. Quinn implored me to stay, insisting she wished to repay my kindness. For five years, I remained by her side, and today was to be our wedding day. Yet, at the pivotal moment, Edward feigned another collapse. I pleaded with Quinn not to leave, but she pried my fingers away. “Shawn, a life is at stake. How can you be so heartless?” She accused me of heartlessness, but she was oblivious to Edward’s subtle fluttering of eyelashes in the crowd, a telltale sign of his deceit. Lily’s heart gave out from the stress. As she lay there, I cried out for help, but none among the guests moved to assist. They all knew who was Quinn’s true love. With her departure, my insignificance was made clear, and no one offered me any aid. In the end, it was a server who dialed the emergency number for me, but it was already too late. I stood there. Lily was shrouded in white, lying in silent repose. I couldn’t muster a single tear. My body felt as if it were encased in ice. At this time, Quinn arrived at the hospital. Upon seeing me, she grabbed my arm with urgency. “Shawn, you’re just in time. Edward’s condition has worsened. Come with me for the check-up!” I shook her off, startling her. “Shawn!” “Quinn, I owe you nothing. I won’t be donating any bone marrow.” She hadn’t anticipated my defiance, so her expression darkened. “I’m not asking! I’m ordering you! Come with me now!” Her position as the president of a publicly traded company imbued her with an unmistakable aura of authority. She moved through life with a strength and decisiveness that was both admired and, at times, feared. In the past, I would have complied without question. But now, with my mother’s life hanging in the balance between us, I refused to be their living bone marrow bank any longer. Yet, I had underestimated her resolve. Quinn summoned her bodyguards, who forcibly dragged me into the ward for a thorough examination. They disregarded the fact that Lily’s body was still in the morgue. My protests were wild. “Quinn Lee! “My mother suffered a heart attack and is gone. Now, you still seek to extract my bone marrow. Are you even human? “I will never forgive you!” A flicker of surprise crossed Quinn’s eyes. “What did you say?” My eyes were ablaze. “Don’t believe me? Go ask anyone! “Half the wedding witnessed it!” Quinn pressed her lips together and kept silent for a long while before she spoke, “Shawn, the dead are gone, but the living are what matter now. “What do you think?” I was on the verge of exploding. How could she speak with such icy detachment? Indeed, in her eyes, no one held more importance than her beloved Edward. My ailing mother was but a burden to her. Now that my mother was gone, didn’t it align perfectly with their desires? I sneered, “If I refuse to donate, no one can force me!” Lily was gone, so I would never beg Quinn for anything again. Quinn’s eyes grew cold, a sign of her rising anger. Just as she was about to unleash her fury, a soft, masculine voice intervened from behind, “There’s no need. If Shawn isn’t willing, let’s not force him.” Edward stood at the doorway and clutched his chest, looking frail and vulnerable. Quinn immediately went to him, embracing him protectively. “No, you are the most important. If he won’t donate, I have other means.” Edward, nestled in her arms, shot me a provocative smile. I couldn’t help but sneer, “I won’t donate. If you want my bone marrow, just end my life!” A fierce glint flashed in her eyes, but I was not intimidated, standing my ground with defiance. She retorted coldly, “You wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to your mother’s remains, would you?” For a moment, I was taken aback. A surge of anger welled up within me. “Quinn, you wouldn’t dare!” “After you donate your bone marrow, I’ll act as if nothing happened,” she said. She held Edward close as they left, leaving me on the floor, defeated. I knew all too well she was capable of carrying out her threat.

“Quinn! You’ll rue this day!” My voice, laced with hysteria, seemed to momentarily stun Quinn, but she paused only briefly before striding away without a backward glance. I gasped for air, but before I could gather my thoughts, I was hoisted up by her bodyguards. “Ms. Lee insists you undergo a check-up first. You’re free to leave only after the bone marrow donation,” they declared. I couldn’t suppress my shout, “This is illegal! Release me!” But I was powerless, a mere speck against their might. I was dragged into the operating room. The sight of the doctor in his white coat, syringe in hand, sent a jolt of panic through me. His words, meant to be a warning, echoed ominously, “Think of your mother; don’t resist in vain.” I offered a bitter smile as the needle pierced my skin. The pain seared. It felt as though my very essence was being siphoned away until darkness claimed me. When consciousness returned, I was alone, save for the cold embrace of the hospital bed. An eternity seemed to pass before a nurse appeared. “You’re awake. Rest up.” Ignoring the throbbing pain, I grasped her arm, demanding, “Where’s Quinn? “Where is my mother’s body?” The nurse looked embarrassed and murmured, “I know little of this. You’ll have to ask Ms. Lee.” In my desperation, I tumbled from the bed, landing in a heap. As if on cue, Quinn entered. She rushed to my side to assist me back onto the mattress. I seized her collar. “Quinn, where is my mother?” “Calm down. She’s been sent to the funeral home. You can visit her anytime,” she replied. I made to leave, but she restrained me, stating, “The doctor said you just had your bone marrow extracted; you need to rest.” “I need no rest!” I snapped, shrugging off her hand coldly. “Remember, this is the last time I donate bone marrow. From this moment on, we’re even!” I tried to push past her, but she clutched my wrist tightly, pleading, “Please! Without the bone marrow, Edward will die!” I sneered, “Did you ever consider, when you left me at the altar, that my mother might leave me because of it? “She was my only kin!” Quinn’s gaze met my bloodshot eyes. Her brow was furrowing slightly. “I’m sorry. I can make amends. The wedding can be rescheduled; your position as my husband is secure.” “As if I care for such honors! “Quinn, you don’t believe I’d forgive you so easily, do you?” I yearned to see a flicker of guilt in her eyes, but there was none. Quinn inhaled deeply. “I will compensate you.” “Compensate? With a life at stake, the only recompense is a life for a life. You owe me your life!” Quinn’s patience frayed. “Enough, Shawn! Sometimes, death is a mercy!” My hand flew, the slap echoing in the room. Her face turned away from the impact, and a voice called from the doorway, “Quinn! What’s wrong?” Edward, clad in a hospital gown, looked pale and stumbled towards us, “Quinn! “How dare you hit her?” Edward accused. He glared at me. I sneered, “A slap is too gentle. Quinn, can’t you bear this from me? Or will you hit me back? Be my guest!” I lifted my chin to confront Quinn, who sighed and prepared to speak, but I turned on my heel and left. “Where are you going?” “It’s none of your concern! I’ve made it clear! We’re even!” I wrested myself free from her grip. As Quinn made a move to follow me, Edward’s strength faltered. He fell into her embrace, an act that halted her right in her pursuit.

I walked away and made a beeline for the funeral home. After presenting my ID, I was finally granted access to Lily’s remains. Her rigid body was rolled out from the cold storage. I knelt before her, my hands trembling as I lifted the white shroud. The sight of her familiar face sent a shiver through me, and only a dry rasp escaped my throat. I couldn’t summon tears; there was no outlet for my emotions. My heart ached with a pain so profound it felt as though it would shatter. I clutched her hands, now cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warmth I remembered. Vividly, I recalled the moments before the wedding, Lily embracing me and gently said, “You’ll be married soon, Shawn. Even if I’m not around, you’ll have someone to care for you.” None of us could have anticipated that Quinn would abandon our wedding to be with Edward. It was my fault, my naivety. I believed that by her side, through years of devotion, I could win her true heart. I had overestimated myself and underestimated Edward’s place in her heart. I lost track of time until a staff member’s voice broke the silence, “Mr. Blake, are you done? It’s time.” I stepped to the side. My nod was barely perceptible, and with a heavy heart, I watched as Lily was conveyed into the crematorium. When she emerged, all that remained of her was contained within a small box. Holding the urn, I frowned. Lily had been confined to that small city all her life, never venturing beyond its borders. Her greatest wish was to see me settle into a good marriage. Yet, I couldn’t even afford a respectable burial plot for her. With limited funds, I liquidated what I could, scraping together 30,000 dollars. Just then, a staff member approached excitedly. “Mr. Blake, someone has paid a significant sum to upgrade your mother’s tomb to a high-end one. It’s over there, with an excellent location!” I was taken aback. “What did you say? Who did this?” “She’s still here. Her surname is Lee.” Hearing this, I strode towards the office area ahead. The moment I laid eyes on Quinn, my fists clenched involuntarily. “Quinn, what game are you playing?” Quinn met my gaze. “Shawn, this is a gesture of my affection. Accepting it would ease my conscience.” “We’re simple folk; we can’t afford your generosity.” Her delicate eyebrows arched sharply. “Shawn, why the pretense? “It’s just a wedding. I never wished your mother die, but she was ill. Must you be so petty?” Her words were harsh, cutting. I drew a deep breath. “I’ve said it before. There’s a life between us, so I won’t forgive you. “Drop the act!” When Lily was alive, Quinn never visited her, only expressing interest when Lily’s health was failing. Quinn had overseen our wedding preparations, disregarding Lily’s suggestions. Quinn only viewed our wedding as an opportunity to network. That explained why no one seemed to care when Lily suffered a heart attack. Quinn’s anger flared at my words. “Shawn, don’t be ungrateful! She’s not just anyone; she’s your mother, my elder. She deserves a serene farewell. Do you really want her final resting place to be so unbecoming?” Without waiting for my response, Quinn snatched the urn from my grasp and handed it to a nearby staff member. “Bury her at once!” She then instructed her secretary, “Summon all senior leaders of Lee Group to attend! “Notify the media!” I clenched my fists, my voice rising, “Quinn, what the hell are you playing at? My mother’s funeral isn’t some promotional event for your company! “And I won’t let anyone else take charge of it!”

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During our graduation trip, I was caught in an accident and tragically lost my left leg. Yet, to my surprise, the school beauty, whom I secretly admired, proposed to me. We were married for thirty years and always treated each other with respect. As I lay on my deathbed, I was stunned to discover that the 199 love letters I had written for her were discarded in a pile of junk. Meanwhile, she had kept another person’s letters cherished in a safe. When I was gravely ill, lying on the hospital bed with my life hanging by a thread, she finally came to see me. Before I closed my eyes for the last time, the final words I heard from her were, “Next time, don’t save me.” I finally understood her feelings. She would rather die than be with me. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back before the graduation trip. I decided I would no longer bother her, nor would I have any contact with her. Yet, the accident happened again, and this time, she rushed in front of me. She said, “This time, let me save you.” In the haze of my consciousness, I heard the noisy chatter of people around me. Someone nudged me with their elbow. “Allanson, Allanson. Come on, we’re all waiting for you.”” I blinked blankly. As I looked around, I saw my old friends in their teenage appearance. The seven of us were the best of friends back in high school. During our graduation trip, tragedy struck, and my best friend, Theodore Chadwick, died. I was left with a disability. That memory was too painful for any of us to bring up again, and eventually, we all drifted apart. “How about we go to Trapeze Cavern for the graduation trip? Does anyone have any objections?” Seeing that I hadn’t responded, Theodore, who was sitting to my left, gave me a direct slap on the back. Seeing my old friend alive again, I was both astonished and elated. I never expected to truly be back before the graduation trip, the starting point of all those tragedies. “Allanson, what’s wrong? Are you so over the moon because you heard that the school beauty, Evelina, is coming with us? You’ve got no chill, man.” Hearing the name Evelina again, I was stunned. In my previous life, Evelina Salazar suddenly said she wanted to join us with a few friends, but in the end, her friends had other plans, and she came alone. On the first night, the hotel rooms we booked were taken over by a tour group. We guys wanted to spend the night at an internet café. But considering our team had a girl, we decided to find a motel instead. Unexpectedly, an earthquake struck that night, and the old motel collapsed. I saw Evelina nearly hit by a rock and pushed her away, but I was hit by a lamp rack. By the time I was rescued, my left leg was beyond saving and had to be amputated. During that earthquake, Theodore lost his life while trying to save others. Evelina and I ended up attending the same university. During our time there, she always took good care of me. At the graduation ceremony, she suddenly proposed to me. I said yes. After we got married, we didn’t have the passion and sweetness typical of young couples, but we supported each other, living a life that was plain but stable. I tried to add some romance to our lives by writing letter after letter to Evelina. Before I passed away, I found out that all 199 of my love letters had been thrown away. And yet, she kept another person’s love letters in a safe. As I lay dying in my hospital bed, I heard her last words to me, “Next time, don’t save me.” I thought we ended up together because of the years we spent side by side. But it wasn’t until the last moment of my life that I realized how wrong I’d been. She had only married me to repay the debt of saving her life. That sense of obligation had tied her down for so many years. She must have longed to be free from me. Now, given the chance to live again, I didn’t want to trouble her anymore. That accident harmed too many people. This time, I wanted to change everyone’s fate.

“We’re a group of guys, bringing a girl along might be inconvenient.” This time, I didn’t want to have anything to do with Evelina, so I planned to draw a clear line and stay away from her. But the rest of the guys, who had never had a girlfriend, were strongly opposed. “Why not? Evelina said she’d bring other girls along. We haven’t dated anyone all through high school. If we meet someone suitable on this trip, wouldn’t that solve a big problem for the rest of our lives?” “When you get to college, there will be plenty of chances to date. This graduation trip happens only once in a lifetime. What’s more important, friends or girls?” After some discussion, they decided that bringing girls along would reduce the chances of having spontaneous encounters on the road. So, they agreed not to invite Evelina. I thought, “They haven’t tasted the bitterness of love yet. They’re still too naive.” I just smiled and didn’t say anything. I figured that, with Evelina’s proud personality, she would definitely not want anything to do with us after being turned down. But to my surprise, Evelina called me directly. “Let’s make a bet. If you lose, you have to let me join the graduation trip.” I frowned. I really didn’t want to have any contact with her in this life. Sensing my silence, she chuckled and taunted, “What, afraid you’ll lose?” “The choice of the challenge is yours. Just don’t cry when you lose.” “You’re the one who’ll be crying.” The next day, I was asked to meet her at the mall. Evelina was already there waiting for me. She was, just as I remembered, beautiful and graceful. She stood there, and passersby couldn’t help but steal glances at her. I was drawn to a poster nearby that read “Couple’s Kissing Contest,” and I fell into deep thought. The rules were simple. The couple who kissed the longest would win. I thought, “Couple? What kind of couple are we?” But Evelina didn’t seem to mind and walked right in. “I’ve already signed us up. As long as we make it to the top three, you win.” “Shouldn’t it be a contest between the two of us?” “It is between the two of us. Remember? I get to pick the challenge.” I thought, “She’s clever, trying to exploit the loophole in the rules. She must be hoping I’d back out.” But to be honest, compared to spending ten days traveling together, eating, and living side by side, a kissing contest lasting a few minutes seemed far less daunting. Besides, Evelina and I had been married for over thirty years, and I was well accustomed to kissing her. We stood facing each other, eyes locked. I’d looked at this face for over three decades. I had to admit, she was truly beautiful. At nineteen, her features were delicate, her skin soft and youthful, and her eyes clear like morning dew, mesmerizing. But I had seen through Evelina. I knew her heart was cold as ice. No matter how beautiful she looked now, I wouldn’t be swayed. The contest began, and I didn’t move. Evelina seemed determined to win, grabbing my collar and kissing me straight away. The moment our lips met, a sweet taste filled my senses, making me shiver. Evelina was so forward, taking advantage of the moment to pry my lips apart, her soft tongue teasing mine. Startled by her boldness, I instinctively wanted to pull away. But Evelina’s hand brushed against my earlobe, sending a wave of tingling numbness through me, making it hard to resist. In the brief moments we broke for air, I could clearly see the meaningful gleam in Evelina’s eyes. Memories of my past life came rushing back. Evelina was the top student and the school beauty, with countless admirers lining up to give her love letters. And I, too, would try to impress her by making a three-point shot whenever she passed by the basketball court. However, Evelina turned down all the boys’ advances. She seemed more interested in those who didn’t show much enthusiasm for her. I realized that this time, my aloofness had triggered Evelina’s desire to conquer. Evelina seemed fully invested, her grip on my clothes tightening. Feeling a slight pain on my lips, I snapped back to full clarity. Oh, I knew this was just one of her tricks to make me relent. In the next second, I pushed her away. Evelina looked at me in shock, almost in disbelief. She probably never expected someone to refuse to get close to her. I said flatly, “I lost.” Evelina quickly recovered, flashing me a smile. “Then I’m looking forward to our first trip together.” I turned and walked away, not wanting to stay with her any longer. But I couldn’t ignore the lingering sweetness of Evelina’s taste on my lips. I couldn’t forget her sweet taste.

The day of the graduation trip arrived quickly. Unlike the last time, Evelina brought another girl along. She brought Miley Glyn, a sweet and quiet girl from the neighboring class. Miley was delicate and adorable, with an endearing sweetness. The other guys rushed to help them with their luggage. I moved to the side, not wanting to join in on the chaos. Unexpectedly, Evelina pushed through the crowd, dragging her suitcase, and walked right up to me. “Allanson, can you help me carry my suitcase?” All eyes turned to me, filled with envy and jealousy, as if they wanted to tear me apart. In my last life, I was also one of those guys scrambling to carry her luggage. But now, I just wanted to keep my distance. I didn’t even want to go on this trip with her, let alone help with her bags. I said coldly, “The trip’s just started, and you already need help? If you’re that weak, maybe you should just head back home early.” Evelina wasn’t about to back down. “Theodore is helping Miley with hers.” I strode over to Theodore, grabbed Miley’s suitcase, and gave him a push. “Did you hear? She wants you to carry it.” Theodore looked confused and pointed at himself. “Me?” I didn’t bother explaining. I just took Miley with me and headed toward the station. In my past life, I never realized Theodore had a crush on Evelina. Sadly, he died without knowing Evelina liked him back. They missed each other back then, but the love letters Evelina kept locked in her safe were a testament to their hidden affection. I figured, this time, I should give them a chance. “Allanson, slow down.” I was walking too fast, and Miley, being small, couldn’t keep up and was nearly in tears. I realized my carelessness and quickly apologized. Seeing no one else around, Miley blinked and whispered, “Do you know what kind of girls Theodore likes?” I hadn’t expected Miley to have a crush on Theodore. It was unfortunate that her feelings were doomed because Theodore liked Evelina. I patted her shoulder sympathetically. Miley, reading my expression, understood she didn’t stand a chance and immediately burst into tears. I was at a loss, stepping forward to comfort her, but I was abruptly shoved away by a strong hand. Theodore rushed over, bursting with righteous indignation. “Allanson, did you drag her over here just to bully her? You’re disgusting!” He seemed to forget Evelina was right there. I was a bit anxious; I knew it was a big mistake to show concern for one girl in front of another. Evelina’s eyes were full of hurt. Still, given the current state of things between us, I had no right, nor any ability, to comfort her. The high-speed train started boarding, and the crowd suddenly swelled. As I turned to get in line, Evelina grabbed the corner of my shirt. Instinctively, I pulled away. Evelina rebuffed again, stood frozen in place, staring at her now-empty hand. Her frail figure looked exceptionally lonely in the crowd. For a moment, my heart wavered. I was too familiar with that lonely look of hers. In my last life, Evelina always looked at me with sadness in her eyes, her brows always furrowed. She was never happy when she was with me. Every year on Theodore’s death anniversary, Evelina was even more heartbroken than I was. She’d prepare a table full of dishes, pour a pot of wine, and drink with me until we were both drunk. In those hazy, half-dream states, I’d hear her uncontrollable sobbing. It was as if she was mourning the lover she could never be with through me. I thought, “Evelina never needed me; she’s always treated me as a stand-in. Why should I bother being sentimental?” I turned away, walking decisively into the boarding gate. “Can I sit with you?” I had just sat down when I looked up and saw Evelina again. I thought, “I’ve made myself clear, so why does she keep sticking around? She’s really getting on my nerves.” I turned to see Theodore and Miley sitting together, and I immediately understood. I got up, intending to switch seats with Theodore. Theodore looked on guard. “What are you up to? Are you going to bully Miley again?” Miley put on a pitiful look, too. I was forced back to my seat. Luckily, several others volunteered to switch seats with me. I chose the furthest away, Leland Natt, hoping I wouldn’t have to see Evelina anymore. To my surprise, Leland returned within minutes, insisting on switching back. I wondered when, sitting next to the school, beauty had become so undesirable. Not giving up, I was about to ask a stranger if they’d switch seats with me when suddenly, a strong hand grabbed my arm and yanked me away. Evelina, huffing with anger, seemed provoked. In my last life, Evelina was in management at the company. She was assertive and decisive at work. She was incredibly strict, and her subordinates were all terrified of making mistakes and getting scolded by her. Everyone said Evelina made an exception for me because she never lost her temper with me. But I thought it was because we weren’t close that she never got angry and always kept things polite and distant. After all, no one wanted to be treated like a guest by their own wife. I figured we didn’t even need to keep up that pretense of distance this time. After all, after this trip, we’d be strangers. I tried to shake off her hand, but she pushed me straight into the bathroom. The bathroom door slammed shut behind us. The cramped space barely fit the two of us, but there wasn’t an ounce of romance in the air. I was about to leave, but then I saw that Evelina, who had been furious a moment ago, suddenly fell silent. She looked up, and I saw her eyes were red. She was struggling, trying not to let the tears fall. Evelina’s voice trembled with grievance. “Allanson, so what if you’ve been reborn? I’ve been so forward this time, and you still have the heart to treat me like this! I am your wife! “What did I do to make you hate me? Why are you avoiding me? Can’t you just tell me clearly?”

I hadn’t expected Evelina to be reborn, too. The biggest regret of our last life was that graduation trip. In our previous life, something went wrong during the trip. In the days that followed, because I was physically limited, that trip became a shared shadow in our hearts. For over thirty years, the farthest I ever traveled was from my hometown to the university. After that, I never ventured far from home again. Evelina, on the other hand, flew all over the world for work. I could only scroll through travel bloggers’ videos on my phone over and over. I had tried suggesting we go on trips together during the holidays, but she always refused, citing the crowds outside and my physical limitations. Evelina would say that we could never bear another accident. But she never knew how worried I was for her safety whenever she was out there on her own. From that graduation trip onwards, everything that followed was a mistake. I didn’t want us to torment each other again in this life. I knew that if I could prevent that accident, our tragedy wouldn’t repeat itself. Yet, just thinking about watching her fall in love with Theodore right before my eyes still made my heart ache. After all, this was someone I had loved for over thirty years. It wasn’t something I could just let go of. So, I could only pretend to be oblivious. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not avoiding you. We’re just not that close.” “Then, can we get to know each other again?” “I’m not interested.” Evelina seemed like she wanted to say more, but someone knocked on the door. “What are you two doing in there?” Evelina froze. She seemed to finally realize where she had dragged me. Her face flushed instantly, and she became flustered. I sighed and texted Theodore to come over and help. When we stepped out, Evelina had regained her calm composure. She whispered in my ear, “No rush. I’ll wait until you’re interested.” After getting off the high-speed train, we headed for the hotel. On the way, everyone else was chatting and laughing, but I was heavy-hearted. In just a few hours, it would be the time when the accident happened in my previous life. Evelina had also become very quiet. “What’s up with you two? You’ve both been acting weird since the train,” Miley asked worriedly. Theodore immediately covered her mouth. He glanced at me meaningfully. It looked like he had misunderstood something. I didn’t feel like explaining. Based on my experience from last time, I booked a different hotel this time. Unexpectedly, the same thing happened again. The travel group had taken our rooms again. No matter how much we complained, the hotel staff kept saying that next time, they’d give us a free room upgrade. We lugged our bags and started looking for a new hotel. It was peak travel season, and all the hotels had been booked up well in advance. Theodore pulled up a page on his phone and exclaimed, “There’s still one available!” When I saw that it was the same hotel we stayed at last time, my heart tightened immediately. I hurriedly objected, “Not that one.” Leland patted my shoulder and said earnestly, “I know the hotel isn’t great, but we can’t be picky when we’re out on a trip. It’s late, and we’ve been on the train for hours. Let’s just make do for one night and look for another place tomorrow.” Evelina quickly suggested, “How about we stay at an internet café for the night? I’ve never tried it before.” “It’s not suitable for girls to stay overnight at an internet café.” “Yeah, you won’t get any rest at an internet café.” Seeing that things were about to develop just like they had in the past life, I suddenly remembered that there was a luxurious hot spring resort near that hotel where we could stay overnight. Back then, we had even lamented not booking it on our phones first. I quickly suggested that everyone hold off on booking anything and check out the place. After a while, I pretended to “just discover” the hot spring resort, and sure enough, everyone preferred staying there. With that, I had successfully avoided the old hotel from our previous life. It was Theodore’s first time at a hot spring resort, and he seemed a bit out of place. Watching him looking all clueless, I felt a surge of emotion. Theodore was my best friend. In my last life, I dreamed countless times about this trip. I deeply regretted taking them to that hotel and regretted even more not stopping him from going back to save people. This time, I wanted my good friend to be happy. Theodore shifted his gaze from the food and looked at me. “Why are you crying?” I casually wiped my face and smiled. “It’s sweat.” He nodded and handed me a towel. Evelina and Miley walked over and asked, “Wanna go for a sauna together?” Their faces were already flushed from the heat. Knowing they were inviting Theodore, I tactfully prepared to slip away. But Evelina grabbed my arm, her bright eyes fixed on me. “You should come too.” Against my better judgment, I followed them. Only after the door closed did I realize it was just the two of us inside. The sauna’s heat was rising, making my mouth feel dry. The entire room was damp and warm, sweat dripping down Evelina’s face, trailing down her long neck. Even though she had been my wife for over thirty years, I couldn’t help but awkwardly turn my head away at that moment. After all, in this life, I wanted to be strangers with her. I got up to leave, but she pulled out an envelope from her pocket, trying to hand it to me. It turned out she had already received Theodore’s love letter and had come to confess it to me. Facing a woman who didn’t love me, a woman I had unrequitedly loved for over thirty years, I could feel my heart still racing. I thought I should act cool, but in the end, I fled.

After I stepped out of the sauna room, I realized Theodore and Miley were not following us. I checked the time and quietly slipped away from the hot spring resort. “Fire! Fire!” The hotel lobby was empty, making it easy for me to sneak in and set off the smoke for a fire drill. In our last life, there were five other families staying in the hotel besides us. One of them had an elderly man with them. Theodore lost his life trying to save this old man. This time, I knocked on their doors first and got the old man out. Soon enough, I managed to lead all five families outside. Seeing no fire, only smoke, they began to grow suspicious. “Where’s the fire? There isn’t any fire; it’s just smoke.” “Is this a joke, young man?” “We’re all old, and you got us out here in the middle of the night for a prank?” The earthquake was imminent, yet they were arguing, wanting to go back inside. A figure suddenly rushed out and shouted at them, “There’s no way smoke would appear for no reason! It’s a sign. Something big is about to happen!” She spoke so earnestly that everyone was stunned, hesitating in their steps. It was Evelina. It was the first time I’d seen her with such a vivid expression. To make people believe her, she exaggerated a bit. Evelina tried hard to explain, “It’s true. There was a family near where I live whose water pipes suddenly burst and flooded their entire house. They had to move out, and that very night, a mudslide destroyed the house.” As soon as she finished speaking, we suddenly felt a tremor. The solid building began to crack and collapse. People screamed and scattered in all directions. A rock fell from above. I didn’t even have time to react. But Evelina threw herself at me. When everything calmed down, I was about to get up, only to find myself pinned down by Evelina. Her hand clutched my shirt tightly, her brows furrowed, her body trembling as if caught in a terrible nightmare. Despite her fear, Evelina chose to protect me. Luckily, we had avoided the rock. I hesitated, wanting to comfort her. Evelina recovered quickly, climbed up, and carefully checked me over. Only after confirming I was unharmed did she breathe a sigh of relief. I looked into her eyes. Evelina’s eyes were filled with tears. “Thank goodness you’re okay. This time, it was my turn to save you.” She was right. It was all over now. After being entangled for over thirty years, perhaps in this life, we should each find our own peace. I clenched my fist instinctively, managing a strained smile. “Yeah, so now we’re even. You can go and pursue your own happiness.” Evelina’s expression grew confused. She opened her mouth as if wanting to say something. But before she could speak, Theodore and the others rushed over, immediately surrounding us. “What are you doing out here?” “There was an earthquake! Are you guys okay? How did you get outside?” “Are you hurt?” Surrounded by the concern of our friends, we were escorted back to the hot spring resort. The earthquake was quite minor this time, and only that old hotel was affected. We had managed to keep everyone from going back inside, so apart from a few minor injuries from falling debris, everyone was safe. This time, our graduation trip finally had a fresh start. The next day, we went hiking as planned. Maybe it was because the weight on my heart had been lifted, but the forest air smelled especially crisp. The sound of the babbling stream and the wind rustling through the leaves seemed particularly melodious.

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For eight years, I had been a bodyguard for a woman. Then, in a single night of passionate abandon, I became more than just her protector but her boyfriend. However, fate, ever the cruel mistress, had other plans. In a twist of irony, both her first love and I found ourselves kidnapped. But she chose her first love without hesitation. I was cast aside because I was a mere pet in her eyes. As I plunged into the abyss of the sea, my final wish was to be spared the torment of her presence in any life to come. … I was Richard Davis, serving both as the bodyguard for Natalie George and, more intimately, as her boyfriend. That evening, I had spent hours crafting a meal when Natalie came rushing towards me. Her eyes were wild with panic. “Mike has been in an accident! Take me to the hospital now!” she cried. Mike Quinn was her first love. “But you haven’t eaten…” I stated, only to be cut off by her impatience. “I can’t eat now!” she interrupted me. Her voice carried a clear tone of irritation and censure as though she were implying that my only concern, amidst everything, was the mundane act of eating. Without waiting, she swiftly strode away. I paused, torn for just half a second before my instincts kicked in; I grabbed the car keys and hurried after her. Mike’s injuries, while not severe, were complicated by his hemophilia and rare blood type. He was in a dire situation. Natalie nudged my arm and said, “Richard, I recall you have Rh-negative blood, right? You must donate blood for Mike!” I clenched my fists and silently gazed at her. Natalie declared, “It’s just blood. You won’t die. You can replenish it quickly.” My breath caught in my throat. Her attention never strayed from Mike. She had completely forgotten that I was her boyfriend. With an urgency that bordered on desperation, she pressed the nurse to hurry me along for a blood draw as though Mike would die within each fleeting second. Upon my return from the room where my blood was drawn, I found Natalie perched at the edge of the bed. Her gaze was locked on Mike, and her eyes were brimming with an ocean of love. She clasped his hand, whispering, “Mike, you must stay healthy.” I stood there, momentarily frozen. Then, with my heart quietly shattering, I walked out, seeking solace in the hospital corridor. Overhead, the cold white light bathed me in its unforgiving glow. At George Manor, I was more than a mere servant; I was handpicked by her father to shadow Natalie as her bodyguard. I embraced the duty for eight enduring years. But it was a drunken night that changed everything. I carried the drunk Natalie to her room, and in a moment of vulnerability, she kissed me, leading to a night of lovemaking. The next morning, she asked me to be her boyfriend, and I accepted, for I had loved her in silence for all those years. I recalled the day Natalie first captured my heart. At the tender age of fifteen, I was forced by an elderly servant to wash his undergarments. My refusal was met with such brutality that he nearly killed me with his fists. As I lay there, dying, Natalie approached. In a delicate dress, she was like a little princess straight out of a fairy tale. She knelt before me and gently applied ointment to my battered flesh. It was at that moment that I truly saw Natalie up close for the first time. I held my breath, afraid that even the warmth of my exhale might disrupt the serenity of her presence. When she finished, she placed a candy in my hand. “If the pain becomes too much, take this strawberry-flavored candy. It’s very sweet.” It was the first time I had tasted such sweet. Through the years, I’d bent to her every whim without hesitation, as loyal as a steadfast hound. There was a time when appendicitis clawed at my insides, and as I was prepped for surgery, her call came through. Without a second thought, I abandoned the surgery to be by her side. Natalie and Mike grew up together. They were once in a love that had been put on hold by distance. Three months ago, Mike returned from abroad. Before his return, Natalie would summon me to her side for gallant escapades. Together, we would ride horses across verdant fields, ski down the powdery slopes, and grace the tables of couple’s restaurants. We indulged in all the rites of courtship reserved for lovers, but our bond could never be proclaimed to the world. She would even post our picture on social media, though my face remained a secret. It was only days ago that I discovered the truth hidden in her phone. Those declarations of our love were for Mike’s eyes alone. I was a pawn in her game to provoke his jealousy. Even the clothes and shoes she bestowed upon me were reflections of his tastes, not mine. As dawn broke, Natalie emerged from the ward, asking me to fetch breakfast. Noticing my stillness, she seemed to sense the turmoil within me. She took my hand and softly said, “Richard, you understand, don’t you? Mike and I grew up together. With his family abroad, I’m all he has here.” I nodded and went to get her favorite breakfast. Hamburgers and milk. Her brows knitted together in displeasure as she chided me, “Richard, can you not handle even the simplest task? Mike mustn’t have such greasy fare in his condition. Aren’t you aware of that?” My hand, clasping the hamburger, became still in the air as I sought to feed her.

Mike declared, “Natalie, it’s alright.” Natalie snatched the food from my grasp. “Fine!” Her eyes met mine. “You should go back. I’ll stay at the hospital to look after Mike.” I bit back the bitter taste of rejection, turning away from the ward. When I returned home, there lay the meal I had meticulously prepared. Each plate was untouched. All of them were Natalie’s favorites. From the refrigerator, I retrieved a cake. In fact, today was my birthday. But Natalie forgot. At noon, I ventured back to the hospital with a lunch box in hand. The murmur of conversation halted me just outside the ward. Through the sliver of an opening, I watched as several people gathered around Mike’s bed. “Mike and Natalie are a perfect pair,” one voice chimed. “Natalie, you don’t know how deeply Mike cares for you. He’s been waiting for you ever since your breakup,” another added. A question hung in the air. “Natalie, what about your boyfriend? Did you two break up?” Natalie’s closest friend was quick to interject, “What nonsense! He’s merely a bodyguard, of low status, entirely unworthy of Natalie!” “Indeed, his lineage is marred by an alcoholic father and a mother who danced her nights away; both deemed him an encumbrance and sold him off to the George family. He needs to remember his place.” Flushed, Natalie stared at Mike. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” I was thrust back to that night when she confessed her fondness for my bashful demeanor. In my arms, she looked blushed. Suppressing the tempest within, I entered the ward. My movements were rigid as I placed the lunch box on the table. The atmosphere shifted, charged with unspoken tension. Sneers followed. Mike’s eyes locked onto mine. There was a piercing challenge in his stare, silently demanding, “Just who do you believe you are to contend with me?” My fists clenched, and I retreated. Natalie’s voice trailed after me, “Richard, my friends were just joking. Don’t read too much into it.” I faced her and forced a grim smile. “Why not tell them I’m your boyfriend?” Her eyes evaded mine. “Haven’t I explained this before? I’m not ready to make it public. Don’t be unreasonable!” I kept silent. Natalie spun on her heel and returned to the ward. I stood there without moving. Half an hour passed before the visitors departed. My hand delved into my pocket, seeking car keys. But I found instead a set of Bluetooth earphones. Natalie had entrusted me with them, yet in the tumult of emotions, I had failed to deliver them to her. I approached the ward, turning the handle to find it locked. A sense of foreboding washed over me as I knocked. It took a long time before Natalie opened the door. Her coat was discarded, revealing a one-shoulder sweater. Her bare shoulder was marred with seemingly sexual bruises. My heart sank. Natalie asked coldly, “What’s the matter?” I handed her the earphones. “Your earphones.” She was stunned and took them. With a hoarse whisper, I asked, “What did you do with him?” Her expression hardened as she slapped me in anger, “How dare you question me?” Her displeasure was palpable. “Richard, stop with the suspicions. I’m exhausted for dealing with company matters and caring for Mike.” She tugged at her sweater, offering an explanation, “It’s just an allergy. I’ll see a doctor later.” Grief threatened to consume me as I gritted my teeth. Love did not blind me but silenced my protests. The following day, Mike was discharged, and Natalie tasked me with the errand of fetching them. Yet, on the way, fate intervened. I was caught in a car accident.

A wild cat, a sudden apparition in the road, caused my swift evasion, thereby my car colliding with a tree. A sharp pain seared through my arm. At this time, my phone rang. It was Natalie. The moment the connection was made, her voice surged through, laced with irritation, “Richard, what on earth is the matter with you? We’ve been stranded at the hospital’s entrance!” I tried to speak, “I’m…” Before I could explain my involvement in a car accident, she icily cut me off, “If you’re not here in ten minutes, you’re fired!” The call ended, leaving my words unspoken. I gazed at the phone numbly as a profound ache throbbed within my chest. My heart shattered. Glimpsing my bloodied arm, I gritted against the pain, maneuvering the car with one hand and steering towards the hospital. I even compressed a journey of twenty minutes into ten. At the hospital entrance, Natalie glared at me. “What kind of bodyguard are you? Always slacking off. Mike is fragile; he can’t stand for long.” I held back and felt heartbroken. It marked yet another time Natalie cast blame upon me, all for the sake of Mike. Just last month, they ventured out for a horseback ride; Mike mounted a particularly spirited horse, which bucked him off mid-gallop, leaving him with broken ribs as a harsh memento of the day. Natalie had admonished me, claiming that the turmoil stemmed from my poor choice in horse breeds. Merely a week prior, they planned a dinner outing and instructed me to place their order. I selected a dessert with mango, not recalling Mike’s allergy, which led to an urgent rush to the hospital for his allergic reaction. Natalie accused me of nearly killing Mike! A handful of nights ago, she indulged in drinks with Mike until the spirits took hold. While assisting them into the car, she directed me to aid Mike, who, in a moment of deliberate defiance, shook off my hand, resulting in his head striking the car door sharply. She laid the fault at my feet, accusing me of clumsiness for not securing Mike adequately, which led to the unfortunate collision of his forehead with the car’s frame. Whenever a misfortune befell Mike, Natalie accused me of my negligence and my dereliction. Yet, I was her bodyguard, not Mike’s. After escorting Mike to his apartment, I drove home. Once we disembarked from the vehicle, Natalie finally noticed my injury. She asked in surprise, “Your arm is bleeding!” I said calmly, “There was an accident.” She looked at me. “Why not tell me? Go to the hospital for bandaging.” When Mike suffered a car accident, her anxiety propelled her to his side at the hospital, where she remained steadfastly by him. Contrastingly, in the aftermath of my own accident, her concern was succinctly expressed with a detached directive, “Go to the hospital for bandaging.” I was human, flesh and blood, with feelings. “Natalie,” I called She looked up at me. My voice was hoarse, “Do you still like me?” If she were to say no, I could retreat to my former role as her bodyguard, never overstepping the bounds again. She smiled at me, “Yes.” I reached for an embrace, but she pushed me away. “You smell of blood. It’s awful. Don’t touch me.” My hand hung in the air, and the warmth in my heart extinguished. “When will we make our relationship known?” I gazed at her delicate features and asked, “What am I to you, a bodyguard or a boyfriend?” Or was I merely a tool to provoke Mike? She froze. Silence hung between us like a heavy curtain. “Now’s not the time for such romantic talk. Your hand’s bleeding; you should go to the hospital.” She turned away and went into the house, leaving me to gaze upon her back. I had trailed in her shadow to care for her. Yet, all she bequeathed to me, in the end, was the view of her departing back. I took a taxi to the hospital. The doctor had just bandaged my wound when I got a call from Natalie. Her voice was fraught with tears, “Mike’s missing. I can’t reach him. His family’s in debt from a failed business. I fear something’s happened. Please, you must find him quickly!” Natalie, ever privileged, never uttered the word “please.” My resolve melted away. In haste, I left the hospital, neglecting even to don my coat. I hurried to reach Mike’s apartment. Downstairs, I encountered a group of men moving with surreptitious intent, bearing a large sack that appeared to encase human forms within its shadowy depths. My suspicion whispered that Mike might be trapped within, propelling me into combat with those enigmatic figures. However, with my arm already wounded, I was quickly overwhelmed and brought to the ground by their force. They took me in the car. Amidst their hushed exchanges, I gleaned that their quarry was not Mike himself but rather the ransom he represented. Having recognized Mike as the one cherished most by Natalie, the kidnappers sought to exploit this love, demanding a ransom of one million dollars for his safe return. With urgency driving her every step, Natalie hurried to the designated beach, clutching the ransom of one million dollars. Both Mike and I found ourselves bound tightly with ropes, so our mobility was stolen. Yet, Natalie solely settled her gaze on Mike as she cried, “Let him go.” Mike was equally desperate. “Natalie, save me!” My wound reopened, blood flowing. My face turned ghostly pale. My strength ebbed to a whisper. Natalie spared me not a glance. She stared at the kidnappers. “I’ve brought the money, so let Mike go.” Abruptly, the kidnappers revised their demand, reasoning that two million dollars would suffice for two lives. They insisted Natalie procure an additional million dollars for my ransom, warning that without it, they would liberate only one of us. Without hesitation, Natalie pointed at me. “He’s just a dog I raised, not worth a million dollars. Mike must be safe. Let him go!” At that moment, my heart felt as though it had been pierced, bleeding profusely. The intense pain stole my breath. I had known she did not care for me. From the beginning, I was but a means to provoke Mike. Yet, to hear myself reduced to a mere pet in her eyes was a blow I had not anticipated. Her declaration of affection to me, it seemed, was as fleeting and insincere as her regard for a dog. Eyeing me, the kidnappers posed a grim choice to Natalie. “If you don’t choose him, he’ll be thrown into the sea.” Natalie fixed her gaze on Mike, never once straying to me. “His death is of no consequence. I want Mike to live.” The tether that held my sanity snapped. To her, my life was worth less than a glance. After a few seconds, a strange calm washed over me. I was a creature of the George family, so my existence was a debt to her. Now, it was time to repay that debt in full. From this moment on, I would owe the George family nothing. In the next heartbeat, my body was lifted. A splash marked my descent into the icy sea. As the chill of the night invaded my very bones, my eyelids fluttered to a close. At that final, fleeting moment, a singular thought consumed me. In my next life, I wished never to encounter Natalie again.

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The day before the wedding, I uncovered my girlfriend, Eleanor Sutton’s long-buried secret. She was the internet’s most famous author of heart-wrenching stories, having published a book about her tragic first love that moved countless readers to tears. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn’t the one she truly loved. The man who held her heart was my late best friend, Charles Kingsley. On our wedding day, I skipped town, done being her lapdog. But Eleanor chased me down, begging through tears for another chance. … Tomorrow was my wedding day with Eleanor. She was my childhood sweetheart, the girl I had loved for over a decade, and my first love. Back in high school, Eleanor saved my life during a fire that broke out at our school. At that moment, I vowed never to marry anyone but her, and she confessed she liked me too. My friends threw a party, getting me nearly three sheets to the wind, all while constantly offering their congratulations. “You’re the one tying the knot so soon, huh?” “Yeah, we’re still single, but you and Eleanor have been together for a decade. Marriage was just a matter of time…” “If only Charles were still around, he’d be thrilled… Let’s not bring up sad stuff on your big day.” Hearing their heartfelt wishes, I forced a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. To the outside world, Eleanor and I seemed like the perfect match. But love was a funny thing. Only the person wearing the shoe knew where it pinched. In all our years together, Eleanor and I never got more physical than hugging. She always said she wasn’t ready to take things further. I gave her all the time in the world, but Eleanor never let her guard down with me. Even last night, in the depths of silence, I heard Eleanor’s sobs. She was crying quietly next to me. Eleanor was actually such an optimistic person. I couldn’t imagine what could make her cry right before our wedding. I wanted to comfort her, but then I heard her whisper a name we never speak. My back stiffened. I must have heard wrong. Neither of us slept for the rest of the night. She went to cry on the balcony while I tossed and turned in bed. We were together but worlds apart. Eleanor left the house early today, simply saying she had something to take care of. I called her this evening, but she didn’t pick up. The ringing on the other end was deafening. For a brief moment, I felt like I didn’t understand our relationship anymore. But I didn’t let my friends see how upset I was. At some point, I had grown from a bright, hopeful kid into a scarred and weary adult. There were some things I would never talk about again. As my buddies dropped me off, I rolled down the window, letting the night breeze clear my head. The city felt vast and empty as if I had lost my place in the world while wandering in a daze. My friends were about to call Eleanor to pick me up, but I knew she wouldn’t come. After all these years, Eleanor still refused to meet my friends. Sure enough, when I got home, the place was cold and lifeless, not a trace of warmth. Her shoes weren’t at the door either. It looked like she hadn’t been back all day. I let out a heavy sigh, thinking I’d whip up some hangover soup in the kitchen. That’s when I heard a commotion at the front door. I’d barely made it there when the stench of booze hit me like a truck. Eleanor was plastered. Forcing a smile, I took her from her friends, who were practically holding her up. The moment the door clicked shut, Eleanor yanked her arm away from me. She stumbled off to the bathroom alone. Before long, muffled sobs echoed from behind the door. I pressed my lips together, about to knock on the bathroom door, when I noticed Eleanor’s phone light up. A message? I had barely picked up Eleanor’s phone when my eyes were drawn to the flood of notifications on her Twitter. It had more than a hundred notifications. What was going on? With trembling hands, I opened Twitter. I didn’t think deeply about it at the time. But I knew that the moment I unlocked her phone, my relationship with Eleanor was irreparably shattered. There was no going back. Eleanor had never told me she was Charnor, a famous angst writer on Twitter. For ten years, she’d been constantly memorializing her deceased first love, Charles, through her words. That name was taboo between Eleanor and me. Yet in corners I couldn’t see, Eleanor had never let him go. The day we started dating, she wrote on Twitter that no one could replace Charles, and even if she were trying to move forward, she’d never forget him. On our fifth anniversary, Eleanor posted that she still couldn’t move on. … I slowly scrolled through Eleanor’s Twitter, uncovering hints that she didn’t love me. On our eighth anniversary, Eleanor came to meet my parents at my house. That day was probably the happiest of my life. Bringing the girl you love most to meet your parents was a joyous moment for anyone. But during dinner, Eleanor didn’t even take a bite. She left abruptly, leaving me to finish the meal with my parents alone. Eleanor told me there was an emergency at work. Her Twitter, however, told a different story. She’d gone to Charles’ grave and broken down in tears. [Charles, I know there’s no going back. I have to move forward. I’ve met his parents. But I can’t forget you. Please, take me with you. My depression is getting worse again.]

Each word was like a drop of blood from her heart. If I were an outsider, I would probably be moved to tears by their love story. But I happen to be the protagonist of this story. Just today, Eleanor posted another tweet showing off her engagement ring. She said she planned to live a good life. She also said that although her life had no meaning without marrying Charles, she would keep looking forward as he had told her to. The comments below were all lamenting her lost love. I silently watched Twitter, my emotions growing more and more complicated. Soft crying still came from the bathroom. I thought Eleanor must be deeply in love with Charles. Then… what about me? What about me, the one who was about to marry her? I wanted to rush into the bathroom and ask Eleanor what she thought of our relationship, but I didn’t have the strength. Ten years with Eleanor… it was not a short time, but it was not particularly long either. I always thought I knew her. But now, it seems I never truly understood her. I closed my eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion as I delved into my memories. Actually, Eleanor and I did share some warm memories. We grew up as childhood friends, always side by side, and she would proudly tell others that I was her big brother from next door. Every time she said that her eyes would open wide in excitement. She was genuinely happy to have me as her neighbor and friend. When we first started dating, my buddies called Eleanor the perfect girlfriend. That winter was brutal, and Eleanor, who’d never been good with needlework, knitted me a scarf herself. She caught the crack-of-dawn train to my city just to wrap that scarf around my neck on New Year’s Day. I tapped her nose, teasing her for being silly. “It’s not silly,” she mumbled, her eyes crinkling with laughter. My fingertips were red from the cold, but that winter felt like the warmest I’d ever known. Looking back, I was so naive then. Even after college, I still clung to that old-fashioned fairytale about childhood sweethearts destined for love, deliberately ignoring the little warning signs. Over the years, had Eleanor ever loved me, even for a second? Was I always just a stand-in for someone else in her eyes? I was best friends with Charles in her story. But he died in a fire. I had no idea Eleanor and Charles were first loves. I thought they barely knew each other, never imagining I was just a background character in their unforgettable story. I opened my eyes, recalling the flood of comments from her Twitter followers. Everyone was cursing me out. They called me the most vicious man, stealing my best friend’s girl. Eleanor never once defended me, the innocent party, in all this. She just kept memorializing Charles in her way long after he was gone. My eyes suddenly felt hot. At that moment, I envied Charles more than ever. Even though he was long gone, someone still held his name dear in their heart. But what about me? My mental health issues had only multiplied over the years, clinging to life with the help of antidepressants. Only two reasons stop me from ending it all… My parents and Eleanor. I had daydreamed countless times about married life with Eleanor. Her Twitter post was the knife that shattered those dreams. At that moment, I suddenly didn’t want to get married anymore. I refused to be someone’s replacement. Just like that, I sat there wide awake until dawn, unable to figure out what the ten years with Eleanor meant. Was it just me, hopelessly romantic and living out a one-sided fantasy? After her tears, Eleanor had already gone to the bedroom to rest. I sat by the bedroom door, able to hear Eleanor’s faint breathing. She wasn’t sleeping well. At times, I could even catch bits of her sleep-talking. She was calling for Charles as if she was about to marry her first love the next day. Silently, I shifted my legs and changed my position. As the first rays of morning light crept in, Eleanor’s alarm went off. She still remembered it was our wedding day, and she even set an alarm for it. So, she did know we were getting married. But suddenly, I didn’t want to go through with it. I didn’t want to keep being the replacement. Eleanor had just gotten out of bed when she noticed me sitting by the door. She rubbed her eyes, completely unaware of how drunk she was last night. “Ryan? Why are you sitting at the door?” I looked at the confused Eleanor, and a sharp pain stabbed at my chest. I realized she was actually quite cold-hearted, even if she didn’t see it herself. She could marry me without a second thought while mourning someone else, walking down the aisle with me. It wasn’t fair. Not to me, and not to Charles either. I took a deep breath and spoke softly. “Eleanor, I saw your Twitter.” With just one sentence, Eleanor’s expression changed completely. The facade of calm she’d been maintaining seemed to crumble in an instant.

After a long pause, Eleanor spoke softly. “You… you know everything?” At this point, I had nothing left to say. I did know everything. I knew how deeply she loved Charles, and I knew she’d even published their story as a novel, making countless readers weep. And I, her fiance, was just a plain, unremarkable backdrop, serving no purpose in their story. If I served any purpose at all, it was probably as a cautionary tale. Eleanor’s face went pale. Her lips trembled, but in the end, she said nothing, only asking, “So… what now? What do you want to do?” Even Eleanor didn’t realize how cold her tone was at that moment. It was as if she’d drained every ounce of emotion from her voice. I wanted to ask Eleanor what she really thought of me or if she’d ever loved me at all. But those questions seemed meaningless now. In the end, I just sighed, “Eleanor… was Charles your first love?” I had never heard about this before. At the mention of Charles’ name, a flicker of visible pain crossed Eleanor’s eyes. We never spoke of Charles, acting as if he didn’t exist. But some things didn’t cease to exist just because we didn’t talk about them. We just hadn’t faced them before. Eleanor clearly had no desire to answer the question, merely glancing at the time on her phone and urging me to hurry and get dressed, as the makeup team would be here soon. Soon, our friends and family would arrive to offer their heartfelt congratulations, wishing us a long and happy marriage. But now, those well-wishes only felt like nails on a chalkboard to me. The Eleanor I loved deeply didn’t love me back. Countless nights, she had cried over another man. The thought of it made my heart sink. Looking at Eleanor, I felt all the energy drain from my body. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed answers now. As I was about to let Eleanor leave for the bathroom, I stopped her and asked, carefully enunciating each word, “I need to hear it from you. Did you ever love me? Or… how do you really feel about me now?” A heavy silence fell over the room. It shouldn’t have been a difficult question to answer. But Eleanor didn’t say a word. The look in her eyes as she gazed at me was tinged with weariness as if she were watching a fool. A fool, huh? I guessed I had played that role pretty well over the years. All this time, I’d foolishly believed Eleanor and I were soulmates. One night, when she was drunk, she did tell her friends that she’d definitely get married when the time was right. I hadn’t thought much of it then, but now I see the truth. Eleanor’s willingness to marry me was nothing more than appeasing her parents. I was the only one who stubbornly believed we were deeply in love. Maybe it was fate playing tricks, but I discovered her long-buried secret the night before our wedding. She’d never told anyone she was Charnor. It was because I loved her that learning the truth felt like a punch to the gut. “Stop making a scene. We won’t be able to face our parents if you keep this up. Ryan Hawkins, we’re not kids anymore. How I feel about you doesn’t matter now. Just go through with the wedding and give everyone closure. Aren’t you embarrassed, throwing a fit like this?” Eleanor’s voice was ice-cold, seemingly unaffected by my breakdown. It took me just a second to figure it all out. I couldn’t marry Eleanor. Even though I’ve loved her for ten years, even though I genuinely care for her, even though… No matter what, I wouldn’t accept misplaced affection. Eleanor’s heart belonged to someone else. After scrolling through her Twitter posts from the past decade, I couldn’t bring myself to love her anymore. Even if I was not quite ready to let go of these feelings, I needed to walk away. I couldn’t keep playing the fool. I grabbed Eleanor’s wrist. “Eleanor. We haven’t get the marriage license yet. Let’s call off today’s wedding.” Eleanor’s eyes widened in shock. She probably never thought I’d be able to leave so decisively. Eleanor, usually so even-tempered, actually got angry. She loudly demanded if I was done with my little game. But my mind was a jumbled mess. I needed to reconsider my relationship with Eleanor seriously. After all these years together, I felt like Eleanor had changed. To be precise, she’d changed long ago. The tides of life had swept us forward. She already changed, but I was the one standing still, still believing in true love, still thinking we could have a great future together. Before the makeup team arrived, a wild idea took root in my mind. I knew it was terribly ill-timed. But the truth was, I no longer wanted to marry Eleanor. Staying together in this muddy, undefined state held no meaning anymore. So, despite being a full-grown adult, I did something utterly childish. I became a runaway groom. I booked a flight out of town, rushing to the airport before any guests arrived. I was done being a doormat. Before boarding, the hospital also sent over my psychological report. Severe depression… See, Eleanor? You were not the only one who had a hard time all these years After Charles passed away, I completely bombed my SATs. I couldn’t wrap my head around why, right before the test, my best friend had to die in a fire. The school was grateful that only one person died in the fire, and Charles became the cold “death toll of 1” in the news. But only when I was there did I truly understand what it felt like. As the plane took off, I gazed out at the blazing sun, and tears began to fall. But after a moment, I chuckled and wiped them away. They said real men didn’t cry easily, so I couldn’t keep tearing up, right? Maybe it was just the sun shining too bright. I leaned back in my seat, exhausted, and thought, I won’t cry anymore.

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