In my past life, my daughter, Chloe, knew exactly how terrified I was of snakes. Yet, she still bought one and kept it in our house. She’d watch me jump around in sheer terror, a mocking smirk plastered across her face. My husband, Leo, just stood by and watched with cold eyes. He even claimed we needed to “respect our child’s hobbies.” He eventually snuck the snake into the bathroom while I was showering, calling it “exposure therapy” to help me get over my phobia. In a blind panic, I tried to escape through the window, slipped, and fell to my death from the sixth floor. In this life, I don’t want Leo or Chloe anymore. “Hey? Hey? Mom, can you hear me? I said I have a huge surprise for you!” Chloe’s voice through the receiver made me realize I had been reborn. I gripped my phone, my entire body trembling. In my previous life, Chloe had used this exact same cheerful, innocent tone to urge me to come home. The moment I opened the front door, a snake was waiting for me. I’ve always had a paralyzing phobia of snakes. Just looking at a photo of one would make me break out in a cold sweat. But in that moment, a real, live snake was hissing and flicking its tongue right in front of me. I couldn’t control my screams. I begged Chloe to take it away. But she just looked at me with those innocent eyes and said, “Mom, this is my new pet. You have to be nice to it from now on!” With that, she walked toward me, holding the snake in her bare hands. My legs went completely weak. The gourmet cake I had bought for her slipped from my hands and smashed all over the floor. Chloe rushed over, her face falling. “Mom! How could you be so careless? You ruined my cake!” She pouted, on the verge of tears. But I couldn’t care less about comforting her. As she moved closer, the small snake writhed in her hands, heading right in my direction. “Ah! Get it away!” I turned to run, but my foot caught on the edge of the stairs, and I tumbled all the way down. My leg snapped. I clutched my broken limb, screaming in agony. Then, I watched in horror as the snake slithered out of her hands and crawled onto my body. I blacked out from pure terror. “Mom! Are you even listening to me?! You are being so disrespectful right now!” Chloe’s sharp voice snapped me back to reality. She was lecturing me in her childish voice. In the past, I would have found it adorable. I would have smiled and said, “I’m sorry, sweetie. Mommy was distracted. Forgive me?” and then done everything to coax her out of her pout. But now? I didn’t give a damn. Without saying a word, I hung up. I turned to the bakery clerk and said, “Actually, I don’t want this cake anymore.” The clerk, who was in the middle of boxing it up, froze. “Ma’am, are you sure? This is the last custom strawberry shortcake we have today.” It was Chloe’s absolute favorite. It was always sold out by the time I picked her up from school. Today, Leo had surprisingly offered to pick her up, which was the only reason I could get to the bakery early enough to grab the last one. “I’m sure. I don’t want it. You can sell it to someone else,” I said. I paused, pulling out my VIP membership card. “Also, I’d like to cancel my membership and refund the remaining balance to my card.” To get Chloe her favorite treats, I had pre-paid a ton of money at this high-end bakery over the years. The balance was easily over $2,000. Now, I’d rather donate that money to charity than spend a single dime of it on that ungrateful brat.

After canceling the card, I got a refund of $500 in cash. From this moment on, Chloe wouldn’t get a single penny of my money. My phone started blowing up with call after call from her. Irritated, I finally picked up. “Dad, look! The little snake is crawling right onto my hand!” Hearing the word “snake” made my breath hitch. There was a sudden gasp on the other end. Chloe clearly hadn’t expected me to answer. But in a split second, her cheerful tone turned incredibly defensive. “Mom, why didn’t you say anything when I called? And why did you hang up on me? That is so disrespectful.” I ignored her attitude. “What did you just say about a snake?” “What? No… there’s no snake,” Chloe stammered, caught off guard, not knowing how to lie her way out of it. “Just come home, Mom. I have a surprise for you.” The “surprise” was that damn snake. Even though I had practically caught her red-handed, she still refused to tell the truth. Leo had taught Chloe well. He taught her how to demand “respect” and use it as a weapon against me. Yet, neither of them had ever shown me an ounce of respect! Leo knew exactly how terrified I was of snakes, but he went behind my back and bought one anyway. He had even lied to me, saying he didn’t have to work overtime today so I could “take a break” while he picked Chloe up. Chloe knew about my phobia too. Yet she wanted to lure me home, scare the life out of me, and laugh at my reaction. “Mom, aren’t you surprised? I’ve always wanted one, and Daddy made my dream come true!” They knew I was terrified, yet they let the snake roam free in the house. They let it slither around, even letting it crawl over my broken leg when I couldn’t move, laughing hysterically as the color drained from my face! Eventually, they “generously” told me that Chloe was willing to compromise for my sake and keep the snake in a glass tank. Though I was still paralyzed with fear, I endured it for Chloe. But even lying in bed, unable to move, I felt like a cold-blooded monster was watching me every second of the day. During that recovery period, every minute in that house was pure torture. I would wake up from nightmares screaming, clawing at my skin to make sure the snake wasn’t crawling on me. Once my leg finally healed, I was finally able to take a proper shower. But Leo secretly let the snake into the bathroom. I was washing the shampoo out of my hair, eyes closed. The moment I opened them, I gasped. The snake’s head was inches from my face, staring at me. I jumped back in panic, slamming my head hard against the sink. Dizzy and in excruciating pain, I screamed for Leo to help me. He was standing right outside the glass door. I could see his silhouette. “Aurora, your leg is healed now. You need to start cleaning the guest bathroom again. You have to learn to get over this phobia.” “If you keep acting like this, Chloe is going to feel guilty. You need to start thinking about your daughter.” “After all, you’re the only one in this house who hates snakes. You’re the odd one out.” I was desperate. So desperate that I climbed onto the toilet to get away. But the snake didn’t stop. It kept slithering closer. As I scrambled onto the window sill, the cold, slimy scales wrapped around my ankle. The wet, slippery sensation triggered a primal wave of terror. I forgot I was on the sixth floor. I kicked back and fell. As my eyes closed for the last time, I couldn’t understand why they had treated me this way. I always knew Chloe loved exotic pets. But Chloe also always knew that they were my worst nightmare. It wasn’t until my rebirth, hearing Chloe’s laugh over the phone, that I finally got it. She carried Leo’s blood. All the love, care, and guidance I had given her since she was a baby couldn’t change her cold-blooded nature. Just like Leo, she loved reptiles. And just like Leo, she looked down on me.

“You bought a snake, didn’t you? I heard you. Why are you lying to me?” “You know how terrified I am of snakes. Why are you doing this to me?!” The memories of my horrific death in my past life surged, and I couldn’t stop myself from screaming. Chloe was stunned into silence. Having let out all my rage, I slammed the phone down and hung up. A moment later, Leo sent me a Snapchat message, lecturing me: What the hell is wrong with you? Is this how a mother behaves? We agreed we would raise our child as an independent individual. If you can’t respect and support your child, why did you even have one? Chloe likes snakes. What’s wrong with keeping one? Are you really going to throw a tantrum over this? She’s crying because of you. And you’re still not home? Do you even care about this family? Aurora, grow up. Do you think we’re still dating? Does everyone have to cater to your feelings? If you’re not home, who’s making dinner? And did you get the cake Chloe wanted? You don’t care about anything else, and now you can’t even buy a simple cake for your own daughter! I let out a bitter laugh. I had sacrificed everything for this family, yet in their eyes, I was still a failure of a wife and a terrible mother. When we first got married, our finances were tight, so I wanted to hold off on having kids. But Leo told me that as women get older, the quality of their eggs drops. He claimed if we waited, I’d have trouble conceiving, or worse, miscarry. He said even if I did manage to give birth, the baby would be sickly. Anxious and blinded by his words, I forgot that Leo was five years older than me. If anyone had “poor quality,” it was him. Once I got pregnant, Leo would rub my belly every day. He promised he would raise the baby himself to make sure they grew up independent, successful, and respected. Seeing his supposed paternal love, I actually felt lucky to have married him. Then, he told me my uterus was too weak and forced me to take early maternity leave to “protect the baby.” I didn’t want to. I had just passed my probation at work. Taking leave now would make my boss think I had planned the pregnancy just to abuse the company’s benefits. But he just looked at me with pure disdain: “The moment you got pregnant, your boss started hating you anyway. If you don’t take leave now, you’re just letting them exploit you.” I couldn’t win the argument. Under the judgmental gazes of my colleagues and manager, I took my leave. “She’s barely even showing.” “She just passed her probation. Didn’t she get pregnant during her trial period?” “I remember the senior partners saying they didn’t want to hire women.” “Yeah, Jennifer vouched for her. She promised there’d be no issues during the critical six-month project phase.” “Even if she is pregnant, she looks perfectly healthy. Why does she need leave this early?” “Who knows? Maybe she has some ‘medical complications.’” My entire pregnancy was spent in a state of high anxiety. I was excited for the baby, but I was also terrified of losing my career, of raising a child, and of trying to re-enter the workforce later. But the moment the baby was born, Leo pressured me to quit. “Breastfeeding is the healthiest option. You’re a mother now. Your priority should be our child, not your selfish career.” I was too weak postpartum to fight him. Looking at the tiny infant in my arms, a wave of maternal love washed over me. Back then, I believed Leo was right. I was willing to sacrifice everything for my baby. But when I handed in my resignation, my colleague’s words echoed in my mind: “I knew she was just using us for maternity benefits.” It cut like a knife. Leo pretended to comfort me, though he was really just looking down on them: “People who haven’t had kids just don’t get it. Nurturing a new life is a woman’s greatest value.”

I ordered some DoorDash and enjoyed a moment of peace—something I hadn’t experienced since getting married. Ever since I got married, I had stopped eating takeout. Leo claimed takeout was unhealthy, yet he never cooked. Instead, he expected me to wake up at the crack of dawn to buy fresh groceries. After making breakfast, I had to prepare his lunch. Following Leo’s strict health standards and personal preferences, I had to pack a perfect bento box for him to take to the office. He would say, “It’s too much trouble for you to cook lunch at home, and commuting back and forth wastes too much of your time. I’m just looking out for you.” But the moment I finished my own work, I had to rush to the grocery store for dinner ingredients. The second I stepped through the door, I had to put on an apron and start cooking. After dinner, it was dishwashing, laundry, and deep cleaning. I was working a job while simultaneously carrying the full burden of a housewife. That was one of the reasons I eventually gave in to Leo’s pressure to become a stay-at-home mom. “Just be a stay-at-home mom. No more stressful office job. You’ll have it so much easier, and I’ll take care of you.” He made it sound so simple. But once Chloe was born, I was solely responsible for every single aspect of her life. When Chloe grew old enough to offer to help me sweep the floor, Leo immediately stopped her: “Chloe, let Daddy tell you something. You need to learn to be independent.” “Look, sweeping is your mom’s job. She’s the adult. That’s her responsibility. You shouldn’t be doing it for her, okay?” I was furious. “Leo, what do you mean ‘my job’?” “Chores should be shared by the family. Chloe is growing up, and she wants to help me. Why would you teach her otherwise?” “You don’t even work a real job anymore. If chores aren’t your job, whose are they? Mine?” “Can you grow up? Do you seriously need a little kid to do your work for you?” “This is exactly why I need to teach Chloe to be independent—so she doesn’t end up like you!” His voice boomed, startling Chloe into tears. Then, he turned his anger back on me: “If you don’t know how to raise a child, keep your mouth shut! Your random outbursts are going to ruin her mental health!” So this was his version of “taking care of me.” I didn’t have an office job, but the physical labor never stopped. It was just as exhausting, and he took it completely for granted. And all his talk about teaching our child to be “independent”? It was a joke. Parents are supposed to be role models. He lived like a king, expecting everything to be handed to him on a silver platter. He wouldn’t even empty a trash can if it was overflowing. What right did he have to teach anyone independence? He demanded Chloe be “respected,” so he used “respect” to control me at every turn. Not making Chloe’s favorite meal was disrespectful to her. Not picking Chloe up from school on the dot was disrespectful to her. Entering Chloe’s room without permission was disrespectful to her. If Chloe found trash in her room, it was still disrespectful to her. Respect, respect, respect. For their twisted version of respect, I paid with my life. But who had ever respected me? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I opened Snapchat and texted Leo: “I want a divorce.” He replied instantly: “Why?” “You guys want respect? Fine. I’m respecting you.” “Since you both love snakes so much, you can have the house. I’m out.”

Maybe they really did hate me. The moment I brought up divorce, Chloe called me multiple times, screaming that I was an irresponsible mother and a terrible wife. My voice was dead calm. “Who taught you to say those words?” Chloe sounded proud of herself. “I’m older now. I know how the world works.” “Other moms either make a lot of money or take perfect care of the house. They do a great job.” “Why don’t you make money, and you can’t even do the chores right? You’re failing as a mom.” “My friends’ moms respect them. They let them have cats and dogs, and the moms are the ones who walk them and clean up after them.” “But you? The moment you found out I got a snake, you ran away and didn’t even come home.” I listened to her entire rant patiently, then calmly replied, “Right. And remember when I wanted to get a dog? Did either of you let me?” Chloe choked on her words. Leo hated dogs. He claimed they shed too much. He said walking a dog was a waste of time and would lower his quality of life. But we all knew I would have been the one walking the dog anyway. At the end of the day, he just didn’t want me to have any distraction from serving him and his daughter. Chloe didn’t really care about dogs either way. But Leo had sat her down, telling her how much of a hassle a dog would be, and insisted on “majority rules” to get her on his side. If Chloe had agreed to the dog, she would have stepped on her precious father’s toes. So, to show “respect” to her beloved dad, Chloe voted against it. And that was the end of the dog. “You know your friends have cats and dogs,” I said. “Go ask them how many of their parents would tolerate a snake living in their house.” Chloe tried to argue. “But everyone is different! Why shouldn’t I be allowed to have a snake?” “Oh, I am allowing it. That’s why I’m giving you the house so you can raise it.” “You can let it sleep in my old bed if you want. I don’t care. None of this has anything to do with me anymore.” Leo chimed in over her shoulder, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let her go. Who cares if she comes back? Like we can’t survive without her.” I was actually really excited to see the answer to that. I reminded Leo: “Don’t forget to meet me at the family court tomorrow to file the paperwork.” I wanted to get out before they realized how much they actually relied on their live-in maid. Unfortunately, there was a mandatory thirty-day separation period before the divorce could be finalized. “Thirty days. See you then. Don’t go regretting this. Let’s see who else is going to spoil you like I did.” At the lawyer’s office, Leo was smugger than ever. He was absolutely convinced I couldn’t survive without him. But in this day and age, I had a working brain and a healthy body. There was nothing I couldn’t do to support myself. Without the two of them dragging me down, my real life was finally beginning.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “443794”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My husband has split personality disorder. Or so I thought. On our anniversary, he dragged me to his lawyer’s office for the third time to force me to sign the divorce papers. Right after, he forced abortion-inducing pills down my throat. I blacked out from the excruciating pain and spent three days in the hospital. When I was finally discharged, I saw Ethan standing near the hospital entrance. He was surrounded by his close friends. One of them, Marcus, leaned in and asked in a low voice: “Ethan, how much longer are you going to use this split-personality lie to trick Hazel? Do you really not care about the baby at all?” Ethan casually flicked a piece of lint off his jacket. “Chloe has been having nightmares again about how Hazel bullied her back in high school. She’s depressed and can’t sleep. I had to do this to make her feel better.” “Besides, Hazel is fertile. We can have another baby whenever we want.” Tyler looked at him, his face filled with pity. “But Hazel spent every single penny of her savings to find a cure for your mental illness. She didn’t even get to see her parents one last time before they died because she was traveling to find a specialist for you.” Ethan let out a cold scoff. “She spent that money voluntarily. And I’m supporting her for the rest of her life, isn’t that enough?” “Once Chloe gets over her trauma, I’ll just pretend my ‘other personality’ is cured. Hazel will crawl right back to me and call off the divorce anyway.” A sharp, tearing pain flared in my lower abdomen. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. What he didn’t know was that three times was my limit. Once this 30-day separation cooling-off period ended, He and I would be finished forever. ……

Standing next to Ethan, Chloe lowered her eyes. Tears quickly welled up in her eyes. “Ethan, lying to Hazel like this isn’t a long-term solution.” “You’re pretending to be mentally ill for my sake, letting people whisper behind your back. It makes me feel so guilty.” Hearing this, Ethan immediately turned and pulled her close. He gently stroked her hair. Chloe leaned into his chest, looking fragile and helpless. “It’s nothing,” Ethan’s voice was incredibly gentle, a stark contrast to the cold indifference he had used when talking about me. “As long as you can escape the shadow of your past and find peace, I don’t care how long I have to play this part.” Chloe buried her face in his shoulder, a small, triumphant smirk playing on her lips. But when she looked up, her eyes were filled with fake fear and jealousy. She let out a shaky sob. “But when the thirty days are up, you two will still legally be husband and wife.” “Just thinking about you sharing a house with her makes me shake. I can’t even sleep at night.” I stood hidden behind a maple tree, watching her pathetic, hypocritical act. A wave of nausea hit my stomach. Nobody knew Chloe’s true face better than I did. She and Ethan were childhood sweethearts. But when we were teenagers, Ethan fell for me first. Since then, Chloe’s bullying had never stopped. In high school, she locked me in a dark janitor’s closet during lunch, making me miss a crucial midterm exam. She spread disgusting rumors that I would sleep with anyone for fifty bucks, making the whole school ostracize me. During my period, she forced ice cubes into my underwear, laughing hysterically as I curled up on the bathroom floor, shaking in pain. She even destroyed the birthday gift I had spent months making for Ethan. She stepped on the shattered pieces and whispered in my ear that a girl like me would never be worthy of standing beside him. Back then, I was insecure and naive. I craved Ethan’s tiny scraps of affection so much that I swallowed all the abuse in silence. Later, I managed to marry Ethan. I thought I had finally secured a peaceful life. But the moment Chloe returned from abroad, she twisted the truth. She painted herself as the victim, crying to the world that I was the one who had bullied her for years, leaving her with severe PTSD. Ethan had gently patted her back to comfort her when she told him that lie. His eyes had filled with a deep affection that I mistook for love. “Let it go,” he had told her. “I’ll punish her for you. But I still can’t divorce her just yet.” For a split second back then, I actually thought he still had some lingering feelings for me. Hearing those words now, Chloe’s fingers clenched tightly behind Ethan’s back. I walked straight out from the shadow of the tree. “Since it’s such a hassle for you, Ethan, you don’t need to play this game anymore.” “Once the cooling-off period is over, we will sign the papers and go our separate ways. No one has to suffer.” Ethan didn’t expect me to appear. His body froze. Instinctively, he shielded Chloe behind his back. His voice was a mix of panic and defensiveness. “What are you doing here?” I let out a weak chuckle, my hand resting gently on my aching lower abdomen. “My baby is dead, Ethan. Where else would I be if not at the hospital?” He fell silent. A rare flash of panic crossed his eyes. He took a step toward me, seemingly wanting to check on me. I immediately took a massive step back. “Don’t come near me.” I kept my eyes down, avoiding his complicated gaze. “If acting is this exhausting for you, let’s just stop.” “You don’t have to play the crazy husband anymore, and Chloe won’t have to feel disgusted seeing me every day. It’s a win-win.”

Hearing my words, disbelief washed over Ethan’s face. I had always been submissive. He never imagined I would actually demand a divorce. His raw instinct took over, and he blurted out: “No. I won’t allow it.” Beside him, Chloe’s shoulders slumped. She put on her signature guilt-ridden face and spoke in a soft, self-sacrificing tone: “It’s all my fault. I’m just too weak.” “Hazel must have had a reason to dislike me back then. I deserve to live with this trauma.” “I shouldn’t have complained to you, Ethan. I shouldn’t make Hazel angry again.” Before she even finished speaking, she raised her hand and slapped her own face hard. She kept slapping herself, sobbing loudly. “Hazel, I’ll slap myself ninety-nine times just like before. Please don’t be mad at Ethan.” Ethan immediately grabbed her wrist, stopping her. He gently touched her reddened cheek, his face filled with pain. He turned and barked at Marcus: “Go to the convenience store and get some ice! Hurry!” Chloe began to shake violently, burying her head into Ethan’s chest. Her tears soaked his shirt as she screamed hysterically: “No! No ice!” “That’s what she used to hurt me… I can still feel the cold. I can’t take it!” At those words, Ethan’s gaze turned ice-cold as he glared at me. “Do you hear that? Look at the mental scar you left on her!” “I’ve been trying to make up for your sins, tolerating your behavior this entire time. When are you going to stop being so damn selfish?” My body was weak and trembling. Watching them play their disgusting roles, I forced myself to stand straight and repeated every single word clearly: “I am not making a scene. Once the 30-day period is over, we are signing the papers. We are done.” Ethan’s face darkened completely. Completely ignoring my weak, post-surgery state, He grabbed my arm violently. He dragged me in front of Chloe, forcing me to bow my head. “Apologize to Chloe right now. This isn’t something you can just walk away from.” His words were like daggers to my heart. “You hurt her so badly back then that she can never get pregnant. And I just had to rid you of three of your babies.” “If she forgives you, we can wipe the slate clean. We can go back to how we were.” I looked up into his cold, heartless eyes, Then at Chloe, who was looking at me with a smirk. I let out a mocking laugh. “Apologize to a pathological liar? Never.” Marcus and Tyler quickly stepped in to play peacemakers. “Hazel, don’t be so stubborn. Just say sorry and get it over with.” “Yeah, Hazel. Standing your ground like this is just putting Ethan in a tough spot.” “If you actually get a divorce, you have no family, no money. How are you even going to survive on your own?” Every word they said favored Chloe. They completely ignored the fact that I had just had a forced miscarriage and was standing here in a hospital gown, completely exhausted. Ethan let go of my arm and wrapped his hand around Chloe’s waist. He looked at me, completely confident that I had nowhere else to go. “I know you don’t actually want to leave me, Hazel.” “Your parents are dead. You have no savings. If you leave me, you won’t even be able to afford rent.” He paused, offering what he thought was a generous compromise. “Apologize to Chloe right now. I will let this go. I won’t force you to get miscarriages anymore, and I will keep providing for you.” Chloe clung to him, her eyes gleaming with the triumph of a winner, Waiting for me to break and beg.

Hearing Ethan use my helpless, lonely reality to blackmail me, my heart went completely numb. In the past, I worked at a clinic during the day and washed dishes at restaurants at night. My hands were covered in thick calluses, and every single dollar I earned went toward finding a specialist for his mental illness. My parents had begged me to walk away, crying because they hated seeing me ruin my health for him. But I was blinded by love. I refused to let go. Seeing my stubbornness, my parents had given me their life savings to help support us. During those days, Ethan was genuinely sweet. When I came home late from work, he would wait up with a hot bowl of soup, carefully blowing on it before feeding me. When my cramps got so bad I couldn’t move, he would stay up all night, keeping his warm hands on my stomach. Later, I flew abroad to consult with a brain specialist for him. Midway through the trip, I received a phone call. My parents had been in a fatal car accident. I flew back like a madwoman, Only to find two white sheets covering their bodies in the morgue. I collapsed on the floor, completely shattered. It was Ethan who held me tightly, rubbing my back as he cried with me. “For the rest of my life, I will protect you for them,” he had sworn. He said he didn’t want a dime of my money. He bought them the best plots in a beautiful cemetery and accompanied me there every year. Back then, I truly believed my sacrifice had paid off. But now, knowing I had no family left, He chose to stab me in my deepest wound. I clutched my hospital gown, swallowing the bitter tears. Just as I was about to scream the truth at him, Ethan calmly pulled out his phone. The screen showed a notification for the cemetery plot renewal fees. He looked down at me. “Your parents’ cemetery lease expires next month. They need me to pay the renewal fee.” “If you don’t apologize to Chloe today, I will cancel the lease. I will have their urns dug up and thrown into the sewer.” That single sentence shattered my remaining strength. My parents were all I had left. I couldn’t let them be desecrated after death. The suffocating pain choked my throat. I slowly lowered my head. “I’m sorry.” Those two words took every ounce of energy I had left. Ethan immediately smiled, pulling me into his arms. His warm breath tickled my ear as he whispered: “That’s my good girl. Just behave, and we can go back to how we used to be.” His embrace was warm, but it made my stomach turn with disgust. Chloe, leaning against his other side, spoke up in a sweet, mocking voice: “Speaking of which, I haven’t visited your parents in a long time, Hazel. Let’s go to the cemetery together.” “They were always so nice to me. I want to pay my respects.” I snapped my head up, immediately rejecting her. “No! I’ll go by myself.” Just the thought of the woman who bullied me standing in front of my parents’ graves, pretending to mourn, made me want to throw up. It was a desecration. Ethan’s grip around my waist tightened. His gentle tone vanished, replaced by a cold glare. “Chloe is just trying to be nice. Don’t give her that attitude.” Marcus and the other guys quickly chimed in, telling me not to be ungrateful. They praised Chloe for being so big-hearted and forgiving. Chloe lowered her eyes, playing the hurt victim again, Tugging at Ethan’s sleeve as if she didn’t want to cause trouble. I leaned against Ethan, Watching the strangers walk by the hospital lobby. My heart was completely dead.

The marble gravestones were cold. In the black-and-white photos, my parents smiled warmly. Looking at them, my heart ached with a dull, throbbing pain. Chloe had sent Ethan to the administrative office to pay the fees. Before leaving, Ethan had given me a warning look. “Behave yourself. Don’t cause trouble.” The pain in my stomach was getting worse, so I didn’t bother replying. I squatted down alone, my fingers tracing their photos. I whispered, my voice barely audible: “Mom, Dad… I couldn’t save your third grandchild.” “I’m so tired. Once the 30 days are up, I’m leaving Ethan. I won’t let them hurt me anymore.” Suddenly, Chloe’s mocking laughter echoed behind me. She strolled over and dropped her sweet facade. “If you had just accepted your place earlier, I wouldn’t have had to go to such lengths.” “Know your place, Hazel. Stop clinging to the title of Mrs. Sterling.” I slowly stood up, not surprised at all by her sudden change. I let out a cold laugh. “Even without me, Ethan would never look at a snake like you.” “I am leaving him. Now, get the hell away from my parents’ graves.” My words hit her right where it hurt. Chloe lost her mind. She lunged forward, grabbing my neck, And slammed me hard against my parents’ gravestone. She whispered maniacally in my ear: “I controlled you back then, and I can control you now. You will always be under my shoe.” Her cold words felt like venom dripping into my ears. “You were too scared to tell your parents about the bullying back in high school, weren’t you? Well, I was nice enough to tell them myself.” “I told them exactly what I did to you. They got so panicked they rushed out to find me… and that’s how they got into that car crash. They died because of you, Hazel.” The truth hit me like a physical blow. A wave of pure hatred surged through me. I gathered every bit of strength I had and slapped her across the face. “You monster! How could you be so evil?!” “Hazel! Stop!” Ethan’s angry voice boomed behind us. He rushed forward and caught Chloe, who had deliberately let herself fall to the ground. He wiped away her fake tears, his face twisted in anger. “I told you to behave! Why are you putting your hands on Chloe again?” I looked at him, seeing how blindly he defended her. All my love and hate vanished into thin air. “She’s been lying to you this entire time, Ethan. She caused my parents’ death!” Ethan didn’t believe a single word. He stepped forward, grabbed the back of my neck, And slammed my head against the cold gravestone. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. His grip was so tight it felt like he wanted to break my bones. He snarled: “Kneel here and think about what you did. Look at your parents and ask yourself if you deserve them!” He picked Chloe up in his arms, Turned around, and drove away, leaving me all alone at the mountain cemetery. I knelt in front of the gravestone, tracing my parents’ faces over and over. Eventually, the sky darkened, and a heavy downpour began. My thin hospital gown was soaked in seconds. My weak, post-miscarriage body couldn’t handle the freezing cold. Using the gravestone for support, I forced myself to stand and staggered down the mountain path. The heavy rain completely blocked my vision. As I rounded a sharp turn, A pair of blinding headlights suddenly rushed toward me. Before I could even react, the car hit me, and everything went black. …… On the other side of town, Ethan took Chloe to the hospital for a check-up. As they walked out of the clinic, a young nurse saw them. Her face twisted in disgust, and she muttered under her breath: “What a jerk. How does he even show his face here?” Ethan frowned, about to confront her, When his phone buzzed. It was a full refund notification from the cemetery. He immediately called the cemetery manager. The manager informed him that I had paid off all the fees myself, canceled the lease, and arranged for my parents’ urns to be moved to another cemetery. “Damn it, Hazel. You’re taking this tantrum too far.” He called my number repeatedly, but it went straight to voicemail. A strange panic began to bloom in Ethan’s chest. He decided to drive back to the mountain to find me, But as he walked toward the exit, a team of paramedics rushed past him, pushing a stretcher. “Emergency! Clear the way!” As the stretcher flew past him, A pale, limp hand fell off the side. On her wrist was a faded, red braided bracelet. It was the matching bracelet Ethan and I had woven together when we were teenagers. There was only one pair in the world. The moment Ethan saw it, His heart stopped.

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The charity student I had been sponsoring for ten years just got into a university near my house. He asked if he could crash at my place for a few days to get used to the city before the semester started. In my past life, I readily agreed. I not only bought him all kinds of daily necessities, but also prepared a brand-new MacBook and an iPhone as a reward for his hard work. But when he saw them, his face darkened instantly. “Liam, I used to think you were just some average middle-class guy. I actually felt grateful to you.” “I didn’t expect you to be this rich. Giving me just this cheap stuff seems a bit insulting, don’t you think?” “And that three-hundred-dollar monthly allowance you promised is a joke. It needs to be at least three thousand.” I refused him on the spot and told him that if he found it too little, he could find someone else to sponsor him. Seeing my firm stance, he immediately apologized, claiming he was just making a joke. I thought he had learned his lesson. I was wrong. That very night, while I was working late at the office, he slipped a massive dose of sleeping pills to my three-year-old daughter. Then, he crawled into my wife’s bed. By the time I found out, my daughter was already dead from an overdose. I was consumed by rage. But during our physical confrontation, he pushed me off the balcony, sending me plummeting to my death. Afterward, he used his sweet talk to seduce my wife, got her pregnant, and successfully took over my position, stealing my entire estate. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day the charity student called. Hearing his request to stay at my place, my face remained dead calm. “Sorry, Tristan. My house isn’t open to strangers.” “Also, since you are now an adult, you’ll have to figure out your own tuition and living expenses from now on.”

Before I could even hang up the phone, my wife, Chloe, snatched it right out of my hand. Her voice turned incredibly sweet as she spoke into the receiver. “Tristan, don’t mind Liam. He’s just exhausted from work today and in a bad mood.” “It’s just staying over for a few days, of course you can. I’ll pick you up from the station tomorrow.” She hung up and turned to glare at me, her voice filled with annoyance. “Liam, what the hell is wrong with you?” “You’ve sponsored him for ten years. What’s a few more years of college? You should finish what you started.” “The poor boy came all this way for school. He doesn’t know anyone here. What’s wrong with letting him crash on our couch for a few days?” I snatched the phone back and looked at her coldly. “I said no, Chloe. And I mean it.” “It’s my money. I give it to whoever I want. If I don’t want to, no one gets a single dime from me.” Tristan’s whimpering, victim-playing voice immediately came through the speaker. “Liam, Chloe, please don’t fight because of me.” “It’s my fault. I didn’t think this through. I didn’t mean to disrupt your family’s life.” “I won’t come, okay? Liam, please don’t be mad at Chloe.” “Please, I beg you, don’t cut off my tuition and allowance. I really want to go to college.” I let out a cold laugh. “Cut the act, Tristan. My decision is final.” With that, I hung up. Chloe’s face darkened instantly. “Did you take the wrong meds today? How can you be so heartless?” “Tristan is such a sweet, sensible boy. Why are you pushing him into a corner?” I stared at Chloe’s face. My mind was flooded with images of her ugly, smirking face when she committed perjury in court in my past life. Tristan was the one who murdered me and our daughter. Yet, to protect Tristan and the bastard child in her belly, she ruthlessly painted me as a depressed, lunatic husband who poisoned his own daughter before jumping off the balcony. An uncontrollable wave of pure hatred surged from the depths of my soul. I pointed directly at the front door. “Chloe, let me make this crystal clear.” “If you ever contact Tristan again, we are getting a divorce.”

Chloe froze, clearly not expecting me to take it this far. She sighed and reached out to grab my arm, her tone softening. “Liam, don’t be mad.” “I just thought since you sponsored Tristan for so many years, you actually liked the kid.” “I had no idea you despised him this much.” “Fine, fine. I promise I won’t contact him again. Just stop throwing the word ‘divorce’ around, okay?” I brushed her hand off, not even wanting to look at her. Chloe cleared her throat awkwardly. “By the way, the office is sending me on a business trip for a few days.” “Get some rest at home. I’ll bring you a nice gift when I get back.” I genuinely thought that without Tristan’s interference, I could still keep this family together. After all, my daughter was so young. I didn’t want her to suffer the pain of a broken family. But the next afternoon, when I went to pick my daughter up from her after-school art class. Just as I reached the door, the teacher ran up to me. “Mr. Vance, what are you doing here?” “Lily was already picked up by her mom and a young man a little while ago.” A horrible sense of dread washed over me. I frantically dialed Chloe’s number. The phone rang for a long time before she finally picked up. “Chloe! Where the hell did you take my daughter?!” Chloe’s cheerful voice came through the line. “Oh, you’re off work? I already brought Lily home.” “There’s a huge surprise waiting for you. Hurry back!” Ignoring whatever “surprise” she had, I slammed my foot on the gas and sped home as fast as I could. When I kicked the front door open, Tristan was sitting on my sofa. He was holding a glass of milk, slowly moving it toward my daughter’s lips. In my past life, this was exactly what Tristan did when I wasn’t home. He crushed a massive amount of sleeping pills, mixed them into the milk, and tricked my three-year-old daughter into drinking it. By the time I found out, her tiny body was already cold. Pure terror seized me. I rushed over like a madman and slapped the glass right out of Tristan’s hand. “Get the hell away from my daughter!” With a loud crash, the glass shattered on the hardwood floor, spilling white milk everywhere. Lily burst into tears, terrified. I scooped her up, holding her tightly against my chest, my entire body shaking with rage and fear. Tristan gasped, looking at the spilled milk on the floor, pretending to be completely helpless and shocked. Hearing the commotion, Chloe ran out of the kitchen. Seeing the mess and our crying daughter, she screamed at me. “Are you out of your mind?!” I glared at Tristan with venom in my eyes, then turned to demand an answer from Chloe. “I asked you, why is he in my house?!” Chloe quickly pulled Tristan behind her back, shielding him. “My business trip was canceled! Tristan just arrived at the train station, so I picked him up on my way back to have dinner with us. What is your problem?” I looked at her coldly. “Chloe, do you treat my words as a joke?” “What did I tell you yesterday? If you contact him again, we are divorcing!” Hearing this, Chloe lost her temper completely. “You are being absolutely ridiculous!” “I brought Tristan here because I wanted you to see how amazing and talented this boy is!” “If you just spend a few days with him, you’ll change your mind!” “I’m trying to save your ten-year investment from going down the drain, and this is how you treat me? You’re threatening me with divorce!” Tristan peeked out from behind Chloe, his eyes red, looking incredibly wronged and stubborn. “Liam, please don’t blame Chloe. It’s all my fault.” “Both of you are my saviors. I don’t want you guys to fight because of me.” “I’ll leave right now. I won’t get in your way.”

He made a show of grabbing his suitcase, but stopped right at the front door. “As for my tuition and living expenses, don’t worry, Liam. I’ll find a way.” “Even if… even if I have to steal or rob, I will get the money.” Chloe immediately grabbed Tristan’s arm, her heart breaking for him. “Tristan, don’t say such foolish things!” “Don’t worry. Even if he doesn’t sponsor you, I will make sure you finish college!” Then she turned and glared at me with absolute hatred. “Look at what you’ve done!” “I thought you were a generous, noble man. I didn’t realize you were so petty and narrow-minded!” “You are pushing a good kid into a life of crime!” I let out a cold, mocking laugh. Whether he went to steal or rob was none of my business. I wasn’t the one forcing him. Seeing that I remained silent, Chloe sighed. “You’ve been working too much overtime lately, so I’ll let this slide. I know you’re just talking out of anger.” “I’m going to take Tristan out for a nice dinner to calm him down.” “Stay home and cool your head! And stop using divorce as a threat.” “Lily is only three. If she grows up without a mother, she’ll be laughed at by all the other kids at preschool!” With that, she dragged Tristan out the door. Before leaving, Tristan turned back and shot me a quick look. That look was filled with smugness and pure provocation. Not long after, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Chloe on Snapchat. “Since you don’t want Tristan staying at the house, I’m taking him to a nearby luxury hotel for now.” “I’ll take him around the city for a few days to clear his head.” “You should spend this time reflecting on your behavior.” I stared at the screen and let out a cold laugh. Reflecting? Oh, I definitely needed to reflect. Reflect on how blind I was to have married such a piece of garbage who constantly backed an outsider over her own family. Chloe’s heart was completely rotten. Since that was the case, there was nothing left to say. I dialed my lawyer’s number immediately. “Gary, draft a divorce agreement for me. I need it done as fast as possible.” Then, I called a private investigator I knew well. “I need you to investigate two people for me. My wife, Chloe Vance, and a college student named Tristan.” Over the next few days, Chloe didn’t contact me, and I thoroughly enjoyed the peace. But looking at my daughter, I couldn’t help but feel anxious. This house was no longer safe. Who knew what disgusting tricks Tristan would pull next? With that in mind, I quickly packed a few of Lily’s clothes and daily necessities. I put her in her car seat and drove straight to my parents’ house. Just as I arrived, my phone buzzed with two photos from Tristan. The first photo showed a massive, luxurious bed in a five-star hotel. Laid out neatly on it were a brand-new MacBook Pro, an iPhone 15 Pro Max, several luxury watches, and a few designer men’s suits with the tags still on. The second photo showed two hands clasped together. On their ring fingers were matching Cartier love rings. I didn’t even need to guess whose hands those were. It was Chloe and Tristan. Looking at the photos, I chuckled. Tristan probably thought he had landed himself a super-rich sugar mama. But what he didn’t know was this: The only reason we lived in a penthouse and drove luxury cars was because I worked my ass off, pulling crazy overtime to become the Vice President of my company. Meanwhile, Chloe had zero ambition. She had been working the same dead-end, lazy receptionist job for years. Her monthly paycheck, after taxes and insurance, was a pathetic fifteen hundred dollars. And she sent every single penny of that to her toxic, male-favoring family. I only gave her a credit card because I didn’t want her to feel embarrassed when she went shopping with her friends.

I never expected she would use my hard-earned money to play sugar mama to a broke college kid. I called the bank immediately and froze the card. My mom came out of the living room. Seeing my dark expression, she walked over with concern. “What’s wrong? You look awful. Did you and Chloe have a fight?” I didn’t want my parents to worry, so I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “It’s nothing, Mom. Just a minor issue at work.” “I might be really busy for the next few days, so I was hoping you and Dad could watch Lily for a bit.” My dad walked out of his study and scooped Lily into his arms. “Don’t worry about her. Go handle your business.” “But remember, if you’re dealing with something difficult, don’t keep it to yourself.” “Your mother and I will always have your back. If things get too tough, just come home. We can still support you.” Hearing my dad’s words, my eyes welled up with tears. In my past life, after my death. My parents couldn’t bear the grief of losing both their son and granddaughter. They both passed away shortly after. In this life, I would never let that tragedy happen again. Leaving my parents’ house, I drove back to my apartment complex. Just as I parked my car and got out, I ran right into Chloe and Tristan. Chloe’s face was livid. The moment she saw me, she charged at me. “Liam! What the hell is your problem?!” “Why did you freeze my card?!” I looked at her coldly. “Let me remind you, Chloe. That is my card.” “Do I need your permission to freeze my own credit card?” Chloe’s face flushed red with anger, completely speechless. Seeing this, Tristan stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Chloe’s shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘your card’?” “Liam, don’t think I don’t know the truth. Chloe told me everything. You only enjoy this rich lifestyle because of her hard work over the years.” “I didn’t expect you to be such an ungrateful leech, trying to steal Chloe’s money just because you’re married to her!” He turned to Chloe, his face filled with dramatic pity. “Chloe, this kind of man doesn’t deserve you.” “He’s just dead weight. You should divorce him right now!” I sneered in my mind. A few days ago, he was playing the polite kid, and now he was calling her ‘Chloe’ so naturally. It was the evening rush hour, and many neighbors were returning home. Hearing the loud argument, they began to gather around us. Seeing the crowd, Tristan’s eyes turned red. He pointed a finger at me, shouting dramatically. “Everyone, please listen to this!” “He promised to sponsor my college education.” “But right before the semester started, he told me that if I wanted the money, I had to obey him.” “He wanted me… he wanted me to sleep with the rich, older women he introduced me to!” “If Chloe hadn’t stepped in to save me out of the goodness of her heart, I don’t know what I would have done…” With that, Tristan covered his face, looking like he was traumatized and deeply victimized. The neighbors’ looks toward me shifted instantly. “Oh my god, he looks like such a decent guy. Who knew he was doing something so disgusting behind closed doors?” “You can’t judge a book by its cover. He looks so handsome and professional, but his heart is absolutely rotten.” “Exactly! He has a daughter of his own. How could he be so cruel to another kid?” Listening to the whispers, Chloe took a step forward, a smug smile playing on her lips as she whispered to me: “Hear that, Liam? Everyone sees what you are.” “I’m warning you, unfreeze the card right now, and I might help you clear your name before this gets out of hand.”

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Seven months into my pregnancy, Ethan Carter handed me a cup of boba tea. I took a huge, unsuspecting gulp. An agonizing burn, like liquid fire, instantly seared my throat. It was ghost pepper syrup. I coughed so violently that I couldn’t even stand straight. The sudden, intense pressure made me lose control, and warm fluid began trickling down my thighs. My pale maternity dress was instantly ruined, damp and stained, as drops fell onto the polished tiles of the shopping mall. Amelia Rose, Ethan’s little assistant, suddenly ran out from behind a pillar and threw herself into Ethan’s arms. “See? I told you pregnant women have no bladder control. A few coughs and she leaks everywhere.” “Ethan, you lost the bet. You have to take me to the movies tonight.” “Besides, Clara is in such a messy state now, you probably don’t even have the appetite to touch her, right?” Ethan caught her by the waist, a lazy smile on his face. “Fine, I admit defeat.” Amelia leaned against Ethan’s shoulder, looking at me with a sweet, mocking smile. “Let’s bet again. Do you think Clara is going to cry?” Ethan turned his head to look at me. He didn’t try to cover my stained dress. He didn’t stop the onlookers from filming me with their phones. He just smiled and said, “I bet she will. She cares about her pride more than anything. She won’t last three minutes.” The two of them walked into the elevator, laughing and whispering, leaving me standing alone under the mocking, curious stares of the crowd. I didn’t cry. I just pulled out my phone and dialed a number. Late that night, hundreds of bodyguards surrounded Amelia’s apartment complex. I pressed a cold dagger against her cheek and smiled softly. “Want to make a bet, Amelia?” “Let’s guess if my next cut will be on your pretty face, or straight through your heart.”

Amelia stared at the blade pressed against her cheek, trembling as she shrank back into her chair. “Clara Vance, don’t do anything crazy!” “There are security cameras everywhere here! If you touch a single hair on my head, Ethan will never forgive you!” Even now, she was still trying to use Ethan to threaten me. I pressed my wrist down slightly. Amelia screamed and shut her eyes tight. The blade scraped past her ear, cutting off a lock of her hair. “Relax,” I whispered. “I always pay my debts. I’m just playing a little game of my own.” “Let’s bet on how many cups of ghost pepper water it will take for you to cough and wet yourself.” I signaled my bodyguards to open the cardboard box on the table. Inside were dozens of cups of prepared ghost pepper water. “You had your fun with me this afternoon. Now, we’re going to play the exact same game.” “Drink.” Amelia clenched her teeth, refusing to open her mouth. Just as a bodyguard forced a cup toward her lips, Ethan’s furious voice roared from the doorway. “Stop!” He pushed past the bodyguards blocking the entrance and rushed inside. Seeing Amelia pinned to the chair, he didn’t hesitate for a second. He pulled her into his arms, shielding her. “Clara, what the hell is wrong with you?” The moment Amelia saw him, her tears fell like rain. “Ethan, I was just playing a harmless prank on Clara this afternoon.” “But she brought all these people to corner me. She even threatened me with a knife.” She pointed to the lock of hair on the floor. “If you had come any later, she would have ruined my face.” Ethan stared at her for a long time, making sure she wasn’t actually hurt, before finally turning his cold gaze to me. “Amelia went a bit too far this afternoon, I admit that.” “But did you really have to make such a big scene?” “You’re healthy. A little coughing fit won’t kill you.” “Amelia has a weak stomach. Drinking this stuff will actually put her in the hospital.” So he remembered Amelia had a weak stomach. But he completely forgot that I was seven months pregnant, and my doctor had repeatedly warned me to avoid anything spicy or irritating. I didn’t bother arguing with him. I only asked one question: “Did you tell her about my pregnancy incontinence?” Ethan fell silent for a few seconds. “I only mentioned it casually once,” he muttered. “How was I supposed to know she would turn it into a bet?” When I was three months pregnant, I leaked for the first time because of a sudden sneeze. Back then, I had locked myself in the bathroom, too embarrassed to even open the door. Ethan had stood outside, gently comforting me for an hour. Later, he carried me to the bed and changed the sheets himself. He told me there was nothing to be ashamed of between husband and wife. He promised me, “This will be our little secret. No one else will ever know.” But now, even his little assistant could use my deepest embarrassment as a joke to humiliate me. Amelia hid behind his back, pretending to be innocent. “Clara, don’t get the wrong idea.” “Ethan was just worried about your postpartum recovery, so we talked about it.” “I even looked up pelvic floor physical therapy for you.” I looked at her coldly. “Was posting that video on Snapchat also to help me recover?” Amelia’s face stiffened for a second, but she quickly sneered. “I only sent it to a few friends in a group chat.” “They were the ones who shared it online. It’s not my fault.” She held her phone up to my face. The video of me in the mall had already been shared tens of thousands of times. The comment section was filled with vile laughter mocking my body and my stained dress. Someone had even made a GIF of my humiliated expression. Ethan glanced at the screen. “The internet has a short memory,” he said dismissively. “The trend will die down in a few days, and no one will remember.” He said it so easily. Because he wasn’t the one filmed in his most vulnerable moment. He wasn’t the one being laughed at by tens of thousands of strangers online. I ordered my bodyguard to pour another cup of ghost pepper water. “I won’t make things difficult for her.” “Drink this, delete the video, and make a public apology on Instagram.” “Then, we’ll call it even.” But Amelia didn’t reach for the cup. Instead, she gently touched her lower abdomen. The crying, pitiful girl from seconds ago was gone, replaced by a smug, victorious look. “I can’t drink this.” “The doctor said pregnant women should avoid spicy things.” I thought I had misheard her. “What did you say?” Amelia pulled a prenatal report from her designer bag and unfolded it in front of me. “I’m pregnant. The baby is Ethan’s.”

I stared at the medical report, completely speechless. Amelia seemed highly satisfied with my reaction. She wrapped her arm around Ethan’s, intentionally pressing her belly against him. “Clara, don’t be mad.” “I never wanted to take your place as Mrs. Carter.” “But don’t be too controlling. My baby will still need to see their father often in the future.” Ethan didn’t push her away. Instead, he looked down at her gently and murmured, “The doctor told you not to stand for too long. Go sit on the sofa.” He helped Amelia to the couch and ordered my bodyguards to take the pepper water away. Only after making sure there was nothing in the room that could harm her did he turn his attention back to me. His tone was incredibly calm, as if we were discussing a minor business deal. “Once, when I accompanied you to your prenatal checkup, Amelia wanted to play a game. She dared me to kiss her in the hospital hallway to see if you would catch us.” “We got carried away, and I lost control.” “But I never planned on divorcing you. I won’t let her threaten your position as my wife.” He even walked over and gently adjusted my coat for me. His touch was as warm as it had always been. But the words coming out of his mouth were ice cold. “Clara, we both grew up in this upper-class circle.” “Which man in our circle doesn’t have a few women on the side?” “Keeping a quiet, obedient mistress to relieve stress is completely normal.” “You were raised to be a perfect society wife. You should know when to make a scene and when to look the other way.” I stared at him, suddenly remembering the Ethan from many years ago. Back then, Ethan hated nothing more than the so-called “rules” of high society. His father had kept countless mistresses outside. His mother had spent her entire life clinging to her title as Mrs. Carter, yet she didn’t even get to see her husband one last time before she died. On the day of her funeral, an eighteen-year-old Ethan had knelt in the grief hall all night, his eyes bloodshot. The next morning, he had held my hand and promised: “Clara, I will never, ever become a man like my father.” When he was twenty-two, the Carter family tried to force him into an arranged marriage with another heiress. Ethan had flipped the tea table right in front of both families’ elders, grabbed my hand, and walked out of the Carter estate. Behind us, dozens of relatives roared in anger, and a fleet of luxury cars blocked the driveway. He didn’t even look back. That night, the Carter family froze all his credit cards and repossessed all his properties. With only a few hundred dollars left in his pocket, he had looked at me and laughed: “What’s there to be afraid of?” “Even without the Carter family, I can still give you the best life.” And he had kept that promise. When he proposed, he rented a private island. Hundreds of drones formed my name in the night sky over the ocean. The pink diamond on my engagement ring was bought at a Geneva auction for a staggering nine-figure sum. On the eve of our wedding, he had signed a Prenuptial Agreement with an Infidelity Clause right in front of all his family elders. The agreement clearly stated: If he ever cheated or fathered a child with another woman during our marriage, all his shares in the Carter Group, his family trusts, and his offshore assets would be transferred entirely to my name. At that time, everyone tried to persuade him not to sign it. But Ethan had handed me the pen, his face glowing with absolute confidence. “Sign it, Clara.” “I’ll never give you a chance to use it anyway.” I had believed him with all my heart. So, when the Carter Group’s capital chain broke, I convinced my father to use the Vance family’s funds to bail him out. When he was attacked by the board of directors, I handed him all of the Vance family’s voting rights. The day Ethan secured his position as the sole heir of the Carter Group, he held me tight and said: “Everything I have now was given to me by you.” “In this life, you will be my only wife.” Now, he still ruled the Carter Group. But he had finally become the very monster he used to despise.

Seeing that I remained silent, Ethan assumed I had finally accepted the reality. His voice softened. “Once the baby is born, I’ll buy Amelia a house in another city and give her a generous allowance.” “She won’t ever show up in front of you.” “You will still be Mrs. Carter, and our child will be the only legally recognized heir to the Carter fortune.” Amelia leaned back on the sofa, gently caressing her stomach. “Clara, Ethan still loves you the most.” “I’m happy enough just having him visit me once in a while.” She sounded so submissive. But the smugness in her eyes was glaring. They probably thought I would be just like Ethan’s mother, swallowing all the humiliation just to keep up appearances. I smiled slightly and turned to my bodyguard. “Call the legal team in.” “Trigger Clause 7 of the Prenuptial Agreement.” The moment I finished speaking, a dozen lawyers walked into the room. Leading them was Robert Davis, who handed a set of documents directly to Ethan. “Mr. Carter.” “Miss Rose’s prenatal report is sufficient proof of your infidelity, which violates the terms of the Prenuptial Agreement.” “As of this moment, your 37% shares in the Carter Group are officially transferred to Miss Clara Vance.” “Furthermore, the Vance family’s financial funding to the Carter Group is officially terminated.” Ethan’s phone immediately began to ring loudly. It was the Chairman of the Board. Even from a distance, I could hear the panicked roaring on the other end. “Ethan! What the hell did you do?” “The Vance family just pulled all their investments! The bank is calling in our loans!” “The board is demanding an emergency meeting to suspend you immediately!” Ethan gripped his phone, his face draining of all color. “Clara, we’ve been together for so many years.” “Are you really going to ruin everything I’ve built over a stupid little mistake?” I looked at him and laughed. “Ethan, didn’t you say you wanted to keep a mistress?” “I’m leaving her to you.” “As for the house, and the money you wanted to use to support her…” I snatched the keys to his luxury penthouse right out of his hand. “They are all mine.” “From today on, I am leaving you with absolutely nothing.” I turned to walk out. Behind me, Ethan finally lost his cool, desperately calling my name. I didn’t look back. At the door, I cast one last look at Amelia. “Congratulations,” I said. “This completely broke man is all yours now.”

But just as I stepped over the threshold, Robert Davis called out to me. “Miss Vance, wait.” His tone was heavier than I had ever heard it before. “We just checked the marriage registry database.” “There is no record of a marriage registration between you and Mr. Carter.” I froze in my tracks. “What do you mean?” Robert glanced at Ethan, his expression grim. “It means the marriage certificate you hold is fake.” “Mr. Carter’s only legal wife, from the very beginning, has been Amelia Rose.” I slowly turned around. The last trace of panic on Amelia’s face had vanished. She pulled two marriage certificates from her bag and waved them at me with a triumphant grin. “Clara, did you really think I was just Ethan’s hidden mistress?” “The pathetic, unregistered side piece has always been you.” I stared at the date on the marriage certificates. Three years ago, June 17th. The exact same day Ethan and I had supposedly gotten married. On that day, after we got our certificates, I had cried tears of joy in Ethan’s arms. Ethan had kissed away my tears and told me: “Clara, from this day on, we are legally husband and wife.” But it had all been a lie. Amelia giggled, covering her mouth. “Oh, by the way, I made a bet with Ethan that day too.” “I bet him that you trusted him so much, you wouldn’t even realize the officiant he hired was a fake, and you’d never check the registry database.” “I told him if you found out, I would leave him forever.” “But if you didn’t notice, he had to go to the real City Hall and marry me.” She flipped open the certificate. “And guess what? You didn’t notice a thing.” “While you were happily going home with your fake certificate, Ethan came to pick me up. We made it to City Hall right before they closed and registered our real marriage.” I looked at Ethan. “Is what she’s saying true?” Ethan avoided my eyes, looking guilty. “It was just a bet, Clara.” “I didn’t think things would turn out like this.” It was just a bet. Because he lost a bet, he handed my rightful title of wife to Amelia. And because I trusted him blindly, I lost my entire marriage without even knowing it. Amelia patted her stomach, her smile growing sweeter by the second. “Ethan even said that day that you were so easy to fool. A little hug, a quick kiss, and you’d never think to double-check.” “Clara, you’ve been a fool for three whole years.” “And now you want to use a Prenuptial Agreement to take his shares? Don’t you find that hilarious?” Robert Davis rapidly flipped through the agreement, his face turning pale. The very first clause of the prenuptial agreement stated: This agreement shall only take effect upon the date of legal marriage registration by both parties. But Ethan and I had never been legally married. Which meant whether he cheated or got Amelia pregnant, the agreement was completely invalid. I couldn’t touch a single share of his 37% holdings. Ethan finally looked up, adjusting his collar. The confidence returned to his eyes. “Clara, it’s not too late to stop this.” “Tell the Vance family to restore the funding and stop pressuring the board.” “I can overlook the fact that you broke into this apartment with a mob tonight.” “In the future, you can move to the suburban villa. Just focus on having the baby and stop causing trouble.” I stared at him. “And if I say no?” Heavy, synchronized footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway. Several police officers walked through the door. Amelia immediately threw herself into Ethan’s chest, crying hysterically while pointing to her head. “Officers, it’s her!” “She broke into my home with hundreds of men, held a knife to my face, and tried to force me to drink toxic liquids!” “I’m pregnant! She wanted to murder me and my baby!” Ethan held her tightly, looking at the police. “Officer, Clara Vance has been mentally unstable lately.” “She caused a scene at the mall this afternoon, and now she’s bringing armed men to my home.” “I’m genuinely terrified she will hurt my wife and our child.” Wife. He could finally call Amelia his wife, openly and proudly. The officer looked at the dagger in my hand, then at the bodyguards filling the room. “Miss Vance, we’re going to need you to come with us to the station for questioning.”

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I bought three window AC units for my family with my very first paycheck. But when I pushed the front door open after a grueling shift, my bedroom still felt like an absolute oven. Instead of the cool breeze I had paid for, there was nothing but a massive, heavy watermelon sitting on my mattress. My mom patted the thick green rind, looking incredibly pleased with herself. “I moved the AC units into Zack’s and Serena’s rooms. There was an extra one, so we put it in Serena’s art studio. You can just sleep with this cold watermelon tonight, Chloe. It’ll cool you down just fine.” My mouth opened, but the tight, suffocating pain in my chest choked back any words. She had completely forgotten. Only last month, I had been rushed to the ER with severe heatstroke. When I was discharged, the doctor explicitly warned that I couldn’t be exposed to extreme heat again. I turned my head toward the art studio at the end of the hallway. The crisp, cool air was practically leaking through the crack of the door. My dad was adjusting the easel light for my sister, Serena. My brother, Zack, was holding a plate of freshly sliced cold watermelon, feeding it to her piece by piece. And Luke, my boyfriend of three years, was holding the remote, carefully adjusting the AC vent for her. “Let’s angle the airflow upward, Serena. We don’t want you catching a cold before your big exhibit.” I wiped the dripping sweat from my forehead, looked at the ridiculous watermelon on my bed, and suddenly, the urge to fight just evaporated. I pulled out my phone and replied to the text from my manager: “You mentioned that transferring to the San Francisco branch would fast-track my promotion to a permanent role. I accept.” Having survived twenty-two suffocating summers in this house, I was finally ready to give myself a spring that would never end.

I locked my phone, slipped it into my pocket, and walked toward the kitchen to grab a glass of cold water. Just then, the art studio door clicked open. Luke walked out, holding Serena’s empty glass. Seeing me standing in the hallway, he paused. “Chloe, you’re home.” “Yeah,” I mumbled, brushing past him to reach for the pitcher. Luke followed me into the kitchen, setting the glass down on the marble countertop. “Your mom told you about the AC units, right?” “Serena is prepping for that major digital art exhibition. Her studio can’t get too warm, or her tablet overheats and her hand gets too sweaty to draw properly. It affects her flow.” “So you gave her the AC I bought.” I raised my glass and took a tiny sip. “It’s just for a few days,” Luke tried to explain. He reached out to touch my sweaty forehead, but I tilted my head, dodging his hand. His hand froze in mid-air before he awkwardly shoved it into his pocket. “Your room does get a lot of sun, but if we put the outdoor unit outside your window, it would face Serena’s bedroom. The noise would keep her up. She’s a light sleeper, Chloe. You know that.” Of course I knew. The entire family knew Serena was a light sleeper, had a sensitive stomach, and couldn’t handle being too hot or too cold. That was why she got the master bedroom, while I was tucked away in the suffocating corner room. “Yeah, I know,” I said, putting my glass down. Luke let out a sigh of relief, a small smile finally appearing on his face. “I knew you’d understand. You’re always the mature one.” He reached out to ruffle my hair. “Tomorrow’s the weekend. I’ll take you to Target to get a cooling gel mattress pad, and we’ll buy a nice, quiet tower fan to make up for it.” “No need.” I took a step back, escaping his touch. Luke’s hand froze again. “Chloe, don’t be petty.” His tone hardened slightly. “This exhibition is a massive deal for Serena’s career. As her sister, is it really that hard to show some support?” “I am supporting her.” “I said no to the fan because I really don’t need it.” Luke stared at me for a few seconds, trying to find any sign of silent resentment on my face. But my expression was completely blank. “I’m covered in sweat. I’m going to take a shower.” I turned and walked out. Behind me, the heavy thud of his glass slamming onto the counter echoed through the kitchen. I walked back into my oven of a bedroom. The giant watermelon still sat on my bed, its skin glistening with condensation. I pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk. Inside sat a sky-blue handheld fan. Carved into the plastic handle were five letters: Chloe. During our sophomore year of college, the dorm AC broke during a heatwave. Luke had run through five different blocks in the blazing heat just to find this for me. I traced the carved letters with my thumb. My fingertips turned white. I held the fan, about to put it back in the drawer, when my door was suddenly kicked open. Zack barged in, holding a plate of watermelon. The heavy wooden door slammed right into my elbow. Crack. The sky-blue fan slipped from my fingers, hitting the hardwood floor. The plastic casing shattered into pieces, and the tiny fan blade popped out, rolling uselessly under the bed. Zack glanced down at the mess. Without a shred of remorse, he stepped right on the broken plastic, crushing it further. He dumped the plate onto my desk. “Chloe, Serena said you had a long day at work, so she wanted me to bring you some watermelon.” There were only three soggy, pale green rinds left on the plate, with barely any red flesh on them. “Thanks.” I didn’t look at the plate, keeping my eyes fixed on my laptop screen. Zack glanced at the shattered fan, then at the giant watermelon on my bed, and cleared his throat. “Look, about the AC… don’t take it personally.” He scratched his head. “I’ll get my bonus next month. I’ll buy you another one.” “Sure.” I closed the tab on my screen. Zack blinked, caught off guard. He probably expected me to decline, just like I always did, sacrificing my own comfort just to get a hollow compliment about how “selfless” I was. But this time, I just accepted it. “You’re… not mad?” he asked, sounding unsure. “No.” I stood up. “I’m just tired. I want to sleep.” Zack smiled, clearly relieved. “I knew it. You’ve always been the reasonable one.” He patted my shoulder. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s the weekend, I’ll take you out for some good food.” “Okay.” I nodded quietly. He turned and left, shutting the door behind him. The suffocating heat immediately rushed back to wrap around me. I picked up the leftover watermelon rinds from my desk and dumped them straight into the trash can. The red juice dripped onto the broken fan pieces. It looked almost like blood. I didn’t bother cleaning it. I just pulled out my suitcase and started packing my clothes. I didn’t need to wait for next month. Because by next Wednesday, I wouldn’t be in this house anymore.

The next morning was Saturday. Early in the morning, the hallway was buzzing with noise. My mom was frantically looking for Serena’s designer dress, and my dad was busy polishing his shoes. “Chloe, hurry up and get dressed! Luke booked a private room at that fancy French place downtown. We’re celebrating the smooth prep for Serena’s gallery show!” My mom knocked sharply on my door. I pulled it open, only to see her holding a delicate silk shawl that belonged to me. It was a special gift from my college mentor, who had brought it back from Paris. I had kept it wrapped in tissue paper, never once wearing it. “Serena said the restaurant’s AC might be chilly, so she’s borrowing this shawl.” Without even waiting for my reply, my mom draped the silk over Serena’s shoulders. “Fine,” I said, turning toward the bathroom. By the time I finished getting ready, Luke’s car was already waiting downstairs. The family walked down, laughing and chatting. I trailed behind, watching Zack eagerly open the passenger door for Serena. Just as I reached for the rear door, Luke rolled down his window. “Chloe, can you sit in the back?” he said, his hands resting casually on the steering wheel. His tone made it sound like the most natural request in the world. My hand froze on the handle. The front passenger seat already had Serena’s custom orthopedic pillow resting on it. “Serena’s feeling a bit dizzy today. If she sits in the back, her motion sickness might flare up,” Luke explained. “Sure.” I pulled my hand back, opened the back door, and slid in next to Zack. The car’s AC was blasting. Serena wrapped my silk shawl tighter around herself, turning to smile sweetly at Luke. I leaned back against the seat, watching his tender profile in the rearview mirror. I remembered when I used to get motion sickness. Luke would always just tell me to suck it up because we were almost there. It turned out he wasn’t incapable of taking care of someone. He just didn’t want to take care of me. At the restaurant, the hostess led us to a private booth. Luke pulled out the chair right next to his. Serena slid into it naturally. “Chloe’s boyfriend is so incredibly attentive! We can definitely rest easy knowing she’s in good hands,” Serena teased with a playful giggle. I didn’t say a word, walking straight to the empty chair in the far corner. When the menus were handed out, everyone took turns ordering. My mom ordered a table full of expensive seafood—all of Serena’s favorites. “Chloe, what do you want?” my dad asked casually. “I’ll have the lamb chops,” I said, looking at the menu. “Oh, absolutely not. Serena is highly allergic to lamb,” my mom immediately cut in. “Okay,” I said, closing the menu and handing it back to the waiter. Under the table, Luke gently nudged my knee with his. I pulled my legs back, avoiding his touch entirely. He turned his head to look at me, lowering his voice. “I’ll take you out for your favorite tacos tonight. Just the two of us, okay?” “No, thank you.” I kept my eyes on my water glass. “What is your problem now?” His voice carried a sharp edge of irritation. “Everyone is happy today. Stop ruining the vibe with that long face.” Looking at his furrowed brows, memories from not too long ago flooded my mind. Before I brought Luke home to meet my family, I had been terrified. I was terrified he would be like everyone else, unconditionally choosing my sister, who had spent her entire life stealing the spotlight. I had cried as I told him my fears. He had laughed softly, calling me a silly girl, and promised he would always, without exception, stand by my side. He gave me the courage to bring him into my life. And then, he took that balloon of courage and popped it with his own hands. The food arrived quickly. Serena suddenly looked across the table at me. “Chloe, about that illustration project for Luke’s company… I still have a few final drafts to finish up.” “Are you free this weekend? Could you help me finish the line art?” Instantly, all eyes at the table locked onto me. Whenever she took on freelance gigs she couldn’t handle, she would dump the grueling prep work onto me. The credit went to her, the paycheck went to her. “I’m busy.” I kept eating, not even looking up. The table went dead silent. “Chloe!” My mom’s face darkened. “You’re just lounging around the house anyway. What’s wrong with helping your sister out?” “It’s my weekend,” I said, swallowing the bitterness in my throat. “And I have my own work. I need to put in overtime.” “Your stupid little internship?” Zack sneered. “Serena’s project is a major campaign for Luke’s company. If she messes this up, can you even afford to pay for the damages?” I put down my fork and looked at Luke. He was the project manager for this campaign. Luke avoided my gaze, taking a slow sip of his water. “Chloe, the deadline is really tight.” “You draw fast. Help Serena out a bit. Consider it a personal favor to me.” Looking at him, a sudden wave of dark humor washed over me. This man was supposed to be my boyfriend. Yet here he was, asking me to help another woman as a “favor.” “I said, I’m busy.” I grabbed a napkin and wiped my mouth. Serena’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “It’s fine, Luke. If Chloe doesn’t want to help, I’ll just pull an all-nighter. I can finish it.” “With your health? You can’t pull an all-nighter!” Zack snapped, turning to glare at me. “Chloe, what the hell is wrong with you? Is this still about the stupid AC yesterday?” “Fine. Put the AC back in my room, and I’ll help her draw.” For the first time in my life, I spoke my mind. The air in the room turned ice-cold. “You think you’re so tough now that you have a job? How dare you hold a grudge against your own family!” My dad slammed his palm onto the table. “I’m full. Enjoy your dinner.” I stood up, walked out of the private room, and wiped away the tear that slipped down my cheek. As soon as I stepped out of the restaurant, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an email from the HR department in San Francisco. They were reminding me to fill out the onboarding paperwork and send it back by next Tuesday. I pulled up the keyboard and typed: “Received. I will submit everything shortly.” I looked back at the closed doors of the restaurant. No one had run out after me. Instead, a text from Luke popped up: [You were incredibly immature today. Your parents are furious, and Serena was crying. I’ll set up another dinner later so you can properly apologize to them.] I didn’t reply. I deleted our entire chat history. Three years of messages, gone in a second. There wouldn’t be a next time. And the apology he wanted? He would be waiting for eternity.

On Monday morning, I emailed my signed transfer agreement back to HR in San Francisco. By Monday afternoon, I was packing my desk when my phone started vibrating. It was Luke. “Chloe, where are you right now?” His voice was hoarse, thick with a panic he couldn’t hide. “At the office.” I wrapped a picture frame in bubble wrap and put it in a box. It used to hold a photo of the two of us. Just a minute ago, I had shredded the photo along with some old files. “Get home as soon as you can. Something terrible happened.” “The final illustrations Serena submitted… the client’s legal team flagged them for blatant plagiarism.” I didn’t stop packing, tearing off a strip of tape to seal the box. “Oh,” I said dryly. “The client’s legal team sent a formal cease-and-desist. They’re demanding massive damages and a public apology.” Luke’s voice grew heavier. “I have to go. Just get home right after work.” The line went dead. I looked at the black screen, slipped my phone into my pocket, and carried my box toward the elevator. When I opened the front door to the house, the living room lights were off. Only the dim orange glow of the streetlights filtered in through the balcony. The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. Serena sat in the middle of the couch, burying her face in her hands, weeping softly. My mom was rubbing her back, while my dad sat with a grim scowl. Zack was pacing back and forth, looking highly agitated. Luke sat in an armchair, a half-burned cigarette dangling between his fingers. His face was pale. The moment she saw me, my mom stood up and rushed over. “Finally! You’re back!” She grabbed my wrist, her grip so tight it pinched my skin. “Your sister is in deep trouble. You have to take the fall for her!” I yanked my hand back, setting my bag down on the entryway table. “Take the fall? How?” I looked at her. “Luke said that if someone steps forward and claims those specific illustrations were just personal practice drafts leaked by a freelancer, the company can shift the blame away from Serena.” “Your sister is a famous artist. Her reputation cannot be ruined by a plagiarism scandal!” “And?” Looking at their desperate faces, my heart felt colder than ice. Zack stopped pacing and glared at me. “So you’re going to sign the confession!” His tone was entirely matter-of-fact. “You’re just an intern anyway. The worst they can do is fire you. Once the drama blows over, you can just find another job.” I turned my eyes to Luke. He kept his head down, watching his cigarette ash drop onto the rug. “Is this your idea too?” I asked him. Luke looked up, his eyes darting away guiltily before hardening. “Chloe, the client just wants a scapegoat. If you sign the liability waiver, I’ll compensate you under the table. I’ll even pull some strings to get you a new job.” I stared at the man I had loved for three years. To save his precious Serena’s career, he was completely willing to throw my entire professional future under the bus. “If I sign that, my reputation in this industry will be permanently ruined,” I stated, my voice dead calm. “Who cares about your stupid reputation!” Zack snapped, losing his patience. “Your pathetic little salary is barely worth keeping anyway. Do you have any sense of family loyalty?” “Chloe, your sister has always been fragile. She can’t handle this kind of blow,” my dad added, his voice heavy. “We raised you, we paid for your life. It’s time for you to pull your weight for this family.” I stood there, watching this absurd theater. I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. It had gone completely numb. When people start talking to you about “family loyalty,” it usually means they’ve already decided you’re the one who needs to be sacrificed. I let out a soft, mocking laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “And what if I refuse?”

I didn’t stay to watch their ugly reactions. I walked straight into my room and locked the door. Outside, they pounded on the wood, shouting curses and accusations. I put on my noise-canceling headphones, blocking them out completely. I spent the night in that sweltering, airless room. The physical toll of my previous heatstroke chose that exact night to flare up again. My head spun so badly I could barely stand. My throat felt bone-dry and cracked. I finally unlocked my door, intending to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. The moment I stepped into the living room, I saw Serena, her eyes swollen like plums, clinging to my mom. “Mom, forget it. Stop forcing Chloe.” “I’ll take the blame. It doesn’t matter if my career is over or if I go to jail… just pretend you never had me as a daughter.” “Don’t say that!” My mom squeezed her tight, her eyes turning into daggers as she glared at me. “As long as I have a breath in my body, I will not let anyone ruin you!” My dad slammed his fist on the table. “Chloe Miller, if you don’t sign that paper today, pack your bags and get the hell out of this house!” Zack rushed over, slapping the water glass right out of my hand. Smash. The glass shattered, sending sharp shards flying across the floor. “If you don’t help Serena, you aren’t leaving this house to go to work today!” “Why should Serena’s career be ruined while you get to act like nothing happened?” “If she can’t draw, you don’t get to work either. That’s only fair!” I gripped the doorframe, looking at my brother. It was laughably absurd. For twenty-two years, no one in this house had ever used the word “fair” when it came to me and Serena. I had cried and demanded fairness once. My mom had simply looked at me and said: She had only planned on having two kids—Zack and Serena. A perfect pair. But then I was an accident. My existence ruined her perfect family aesthetic. So I had no right to ask for fairness. Yet now, they were demanding “fairness” from me. I laughed out loud. But tears slipped down my cheeks anyway. My dry lips split, letting a metallic taste of blood seep into my mouth. Luke was gently pressing an ice pack against Serena’s swollen eyes. He didn’t even look at my pale, trembling face. “Chloe, think carefully.” “If you don’t sign, not only are you not leaving this house today, but I will make sure you are completely blacklisted from this industry.” “But if you sign, we can go back to how things were. I’ll even find a position for you in another company.” I lowered my eyes, hiding my trembling hands behind my back. I swallowed the blood in my mouth, forcing myself to look defeated and broken. “Fine. I’ll sign.” My voice came out hoarse and cracked. “But I need to go to the office first. I have to submit a formal leave of absence, and then I’ll meet you at Starry Media.” Hearing me finally break, the tension in the room instantly vanished. My mom let out a cold sniff. “Good to know you still have a shred of conscience.” Zack stepped back, letting me pass. “See? If you had just been this reasonable from the start, we wouldn’t have had all this drama.” I turned back to my room. I caught a glimpse of the rotting watermelon sitting in the hot corner of my room. I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door. An Uber was already waiting for me downstairs. On the way, Luke sent me a Snapchat: [Carter, the Legal Director of Starry Media, is here. When you get to the conference room, don’t say anything stupid. Just sign the paperwork, and I’ll take you to that nice French place tonight. I’ll even order a brand-new, silent AC unit for your room.] But now, the French dinners… The AC units… The family, the boyfriend—I didn’t need any of it anymore. When the Uber arrived at the high-rise, I didn’t go up. I pulled a thick manila envelope from my backpack. I handed twenty dollars to a courier in the lobby and asked him to deliver it directly to the top floor. The recipient: Carter, Legal Director of Starry Media. Then, I got back into the Uber. “Change of destination, please. To the airport.” As the car merged into traffic, I opened Luke’s chat. [The package you wanted has been delivered.] I tapped send, and without a second of hesitation, blocked his number. Then, I left the family Snapchat group. From this moment on, I was running toward a spring that belonged entirely to me.

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Ten minutes before the wedding march was set to play, I was sitting in the bridal suite, touching up my lipstick. Ethan Sterling walked in with a glass of warm water and helped me adjust my veil. “Drink some water. Don’t be nervous. I’ll take you out in a bit.” I smiled, took the glass, and asked him if his tie was straight. The moment the glass was empty, the back of my tongue went numb. I looked up at him. He had already locked the door of the bridal suite from the inside. “I asked the doctor. The dosage is safe. Three hours of sleep is all you need.” The lipstick in my hand slipped, crashing onto the skirt of my wedding dress, leaving a stark red smudge. He knelt down and tried to wipe away the stain. “Sienna is pregnant. She’s carrying Julian’s baby. She can’t handle any stress right now.” “The child needs a legitimate status. For today, she’ll wear your dress and go through the ceremony. I’ll explain everything to the guests later.” I tried to stand, but my knees buckled, and I crashed against the vanity. He caught me, his voice still filled with that same gentle, coaxing tone. “Chloe, be sensible. Once her pregnancy stabilizes, I’ll give you an even bigger wedding.” Outside the door, the officiant began calling for the bride. My vision blurred, and I fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, the first words came out through my gritted teeth. “Don’t touch me.” Ethan’s sister, Zoe Sterling, was crouching in front of me, twirling my wedding ring between her fingers. “Chloe, you woke up fast.” She tossed the ring onto the floor. “And here I thought the doctor my brother hired was reliable.” I pushed myself against the wall, trying to sit up, but my wrists were too weak to support my weight. My throat was dry and numb, and my chest felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton. “Where is this?” “The hotel basement.” Zoe smirked. “Don’t be so tense. The wedding went beautifully.” I stared at her. “Who was the bride?” “Who else? Sienna, of course.” She held her phone up to my face. The screen was playing an Instagram livestream of the reception. Sienna was wearing my wedding dress, holding Ethan’s arm, standing right under the brightest spotlight. The officiant called out, “You may now kiss the bride.” Applause erupted from the crowd like a crashing wave. My fingers slowly curled into fists. “Zoe, give me the phone.” “Why?” She pulled the phone back. “So you can crash the wedding? So you can trigger Sienna’s panic attacks?” “That was my wedding.” “Not anymore.” She tilted her head, her tone as casual as if she were commenting on an ill-fitting dress. “Chloe, you’re a nice girl. You just don’t see the bigger picture.” I let out a cold laugh. “My wedding was stolen from me, and you’re talking to me about the bigger picture?” Zoe’s face darkened. “Don’t get sarcastic with me.” “Sienna is carrying Julian’s only child. Her emotions can’t handle any shock right now.” “You’re only missing out on walking down an aisle once. She’s missing her entire future.” I looked up at her. “Her baby needs a name, so a living person like me has to be drugged and locked away?” “Didn’t Ethan say he’d make it up to you?” Zoe frowned, looking at me as if I were being ungrateful. “Why are you so hard to please?” “Make it up to me?” My throat burned, but I couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping. “Locking me in a basement, letting someone else wear my dress, take my place, and receive my congratulations—you call that making it up to me?” “Don’t make it sound so ugly.” Zoe stood up, her heel stepping right onto the train of my dress. “You were never good enough for my brother anyway.” “The Sterling family only let you in because you were quiet, obedient, and didn’t cause trouble.” “Now that Sienna is pregnant, your constant whining just makes you look incredibly selfish.” I reached for my pockets. My phone was gone. Zoe saw my movement and smirked even wider. “Looking for your phone?” She pulled it out of her designer bag and waved it in front of me. “It’s off.” “My brother foresaw all your little tricks.” I stared at the phone in her hand. “I need to call Ethan.” “Call him for what?” “He’s busy giving toasts.” “With so many guests and media out there today, he doesn’t have time for your drama.” My chest tightened. The drug from that glass of water felt like a thick film coating my throat, making my breaths short and shallow. “Zoe, I’m having an allergic reaction.” She raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Allergic to warm water?” “To sedatives.” I leaned against the wall, my voice cracking. “If it’s severe, it can kill me.” Zoe stared at me. She froze for two seconds, then burst into laughter. “Chloe, your acting is so outdated.” “Faking a life-or-death crisis the moment you wake up? No wonder you’re just a commoner trying to claw your way into high society. This drama is so cheap, like those trashy soap operas.” I forced out every single word. “Give. Me. The. Phone.” “No.” She stuffed the phone back into her bag, leaned down, and patted my cheek. “Just stay here for three hours.” “Once Sienna finishes the ceremony, Ethan will come get you.” “And honestly, if you actually die, consider it your final contribution to the Sterling family.” Footsteps echoed outside, and a bodyguard poked his head in. “Miss Sterling, they’re about to cut the cake upstairs.” Zoe immediately smoothed down her dress. “Keep an eye on her.” I grabbed the hem of her skirt. “Zoe… I am really dying…” She looked down at me and smiled. “Chloe, your biggest flaw is that you think too highly of yourself.” The door was locked shut again. I slumped against the cold wall. It felt like someone was sucking the last bit of oxygen right out of my lungs.

The bodyguard went out for a smoke, leaving my phone carelessly on the shelf near the door. I crawled over, pressed the screen to light it up, and dialed Ethan’s number. His voice came through the speaker. “Chloe, where are you?” I gasped heavily. “Basement…” “I’m having… an allergic reaction. Call a doctor.” There was a moment of silence on the other end. In the background, someone laughed and shouted, “Ethan! Sienna says the baby just kicked. Come feel it!” Ethan lowered his voice. “Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m not.” “My tongue is numb… my throat is swelling… my chest is tight.” “The drug you gave me contained benzodiazepines, didn’t it?” His voice grew cold. “How do you know that?” “Because I can’t touch them.” “Ethan, I told you this before.” The clinking of glasses echoed from the phone. He was quiet for so long that I thought the call had dropped. “I don’t remember.” I leaned against the door frame, my body sliding down inch by inch. On the day of our pre-marital physical exam, I had written down my allergy history three separate times. Ethan had sat right beside me, holding my hand, promising that he would memorize every single one of my medical triggers. But that was the same day Sienna returned from abroad after her surgery. She had posted on Instagram, saying how much she feared the smell of hospital disinfectants. That very night, Ethan bought out half a flower shop to fill her hospital room. My medical report was carelessly stuffed under the car air freshener. I asked him, my voice trembling. “Do you remember now?” Ethan’s voice sounded impatient. “Chloe, today is an exception.” “Sienna almost fainted earlier. The doctor said she can’t handle any shocks.” “I asked Zoe to keep you in the basement because I was afraid you’d do something reckless.” I let out a choked laugh. “Afraid I’d be reckless, so you drugged me?” He lowered his voice. “The dosage was very light.” “The doctor said you would sleep for three hours at most.” “You’re awake now, which means you’re fine.” “I will die.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Ethan, I am really going to die.” He sighed. “Every time you’re unhappy, you exaggerate things to the extreme.” “Just bear with it a little longer. Wait for me.” “We still have the family toasts and reception. Once it’s over, I’ll come down.” I gripped the phone, begging. “I can’t wait… right now…” He cut me off, his tone still patronizingly gentle. “Chloe, Sienna saved my life.” “When I got into that car accident years ago, she was the one who dragged me out of the wreckage.” “Now she’s pregnant with my late brother’s child. I can’t let her be humiliated in front of everyone.” I froze. “The person who saved you… was her?” “Who else would it be?” “Please don’t start arguing with me about this now.” I clutched my chest, a bitter smile gracing my lips. Ethan’s voice softened a bit. “Chloe, you’re quiet again.” “I know you feel wronged.” “But don’t blow this out of proportion.” “I’ll explain everything to you after today.” “Just bear with it.” I leaned against the door, black spots starting to swim in my vision. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “If I die, will you regret this?” He paused. “Don’t say such jinxed things.” Someone called out to him in the background. “Groom, the toasts are waiting!” Ethan immediately answered them. The line went dead. The bodyguard came back, snatched the phone away, and cursed. “Still trying to stir up trouble, huh?” I opened my mouth, but only a raspy, broken breath came out. The bodyguard glanced at me and sneered. “Miss Sterling said you’re a good actor.” “Don’t actually play dead on me.” I wanted to tell him I wasn’t acting.

When Zoe returned, she was holding a half-empty glass of champagne. The bodyguard stood at the door, whispering, “Miss Sterling, her face looks really off.” Zoe cast a casual glance at me. “If her face looked perfectly fine, how could she play the victim?” I slumped against the wall, my breathing turning into rapid, shallow gasps. “Epinephrine…” I raised a trembling hand, pointing toward my bag. “My EpiPen… inside pocket.” Zoe looked down and rummaged through my bag, indeed pulling out a blue injection pen. She held it in her hand, her expression turning smug. “Oh, look at that. You even brought props.” “Give it… to me…” “Just because you asked?” She raised the EpiPen high out of my reach. “Chloe, admit one thing first.” I stared at her. “Admit what?” “Admit that you’re just jealous of Sienna today.” Zoe crouched down, her voice low and venomous. “Admit that you’re faking this illness just to ruin her big day and steal her spotlight.” “I’m going to record a video.” “That way, when Ethan asks, I’ll have proof to show him.” A raspy, bitter laugh escaped my throat. “You Sterlings are truly experts at stabbing someone and expecting them to thank you for the blade.” “Still stubborn, I see.” She opened her phone camera and aimed it at my face. “Come on, say it.” “Say that Sienna is kind and generous, and you’re just a petty, jealous bitch.” I closed my eyes. “No.” Zoe pressed the EpiPen against the edge of the table, slowly pushing down. “If you don’t say it, I’ll break it.” The bodyguard gasped. “Miss Sterling, is that thing really life-saving medicine?” “She says it is, so it is?” Zoe sneered. “Does she know better than a doctor?” “My brother asked. The sedative dosage is perfectly safe.” “Besides, even if something does happen, it’s just her own weak constitution trying to blackmail the Sterling family.” I forced my eyes open, my vision already blurring. “Zoe.” “What?” “Does your brother know how incredibly stupid you are?” Her face twisted in anger. With a sharp crack, she slammed the EpiPen onto the floor. The blue plastic casing shattered, and the liquid medicine seeped out onto the concrete. In that exact moment, the final string of hope inside me snapped. Zoe looked at the spilled medicine and lifted her chin proudly. “Don’t look at me like that.” “My brother hates it when you make that face.” “As if the whole world owes you something.” I stared at the shattered EpiPen and whispered, “There are only three hundred of those custom-formulated pens in the world.” “Who are you trying to scare?” “It’s a custom-made prescription. The serial number is printed on the inside of the casing.” I looked up at her. “What you just destroyed wasn’t just a pen. It was evidence.” Zoe froze for a moment, then laughed contemptuously. “Evidence?” “You’re just an orphaned, penniless designer. You think you can sue the Sterling family?” “Has my brother spoiled you so much that you forgot your own place?” I didn’t bother to explain. Because explaining was useless. A massive cheer suddenly erupted from upstairs. The wedding was reaching its finale. Zoe checked her phone, her smile returning. “Sienna is about to toss the bouquet.” “Guess who she’s going to throw it to?” I said nothing. She answered her own question. “Me, obviously.” She stood up and walked toward the door. The bodyguard hesitated. “What about her…?” “Keep her locked in.” The door slammed shut. I dragged myself toward the shattered EpiPen, dipping my finger into the tiny puddle of remaining liquid, and pressed it against my outer thigh. The dosage was nowhere near enough. The precious little air left in my lungs was still slipping away. I reached into the hidden pocket of my wedding dress. Sewn inside was a thin, metallic signal transmitter. Before my grandmother passed away, she had slipped it into my hand. She had said, Chloe, you don’t have to return to the Lockwood family. But you must keep yourself alive. I had laughed back then, thinking she was being dramatic.

Zoe’s voice drifted in through the crack under the door. She was on the phone. “Ethan, she’s still putting on a show. She’s complaining that I broke her little rescue pen.” Ethan’s background was incredibly noisy—people clinking glasses, shouting “congratulations!” He asked, “How is she?” “She can talk, she can crawl, she’s full of energy.” Zoe laughed. “I think she just wants to steal Sienna’s spotlight.” Ethan was silent for two seconds. “Don’t rile her up.” “I’ll come down as soon as I take Sienna back to her room.” I used every ounce of my remaining strength to bang on the door. The sound was incredibly faint, like fingernails scratching against wood. “Ethan…” The hallway went quiet for a second. Zoe brought the phone closer to the door. “Chloe is calling for you.” Ethan’s voice softened. “Chloe, I’m listening.” I pressed my forehead against the cold door. “Tell them… to open the door.” “I can’t… breathe.” “I really can’t… hold on much longer.” Ethan sounded thoroughly exhausted and annoyed. “Chloe, today is our wedding day.” “Do you have to force my hand today?” “Force your hand?” “Do you have any idea how many people are upstairs right now?” His words came faster. “The press, our relatives, our business partners.” “If you crash the reception now, what happens to Sienna?” “She’s carrying my brother’s baby.” “My brother’s last wish was for me to take care of her.” “So I should just die in the basement?” My voice was so faint it was almost non-existent. The other end of the line went completely silent. A few seconds later, he said, “No one is asking you to die.” “I’m just asking you to wait.” “Why can’t you ever put yourself in my shoes, just this once?” Leaning against the door, I suddenly found it hilarious. When his stomach ulcer flared up, I drove across the city in the middle of the night right before a major design deadline to get his medicine. When his mother looked down on my background, I swallowed my pride at the dinner table, pretending not to understand her sharp barbs. After Sienna returned, he abandoned me at movie theaters, restaurants, and anniversary hotel rooms over and over again. I had always put myself in his shoes. But in the end, he wanted me to give up my very life. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “I regret it.” He paused. “Regret what?” “Regret marrying you.” The other side of the phone felt like it had been abruptly muted. Zoe was the first to explode. “Chloe, are you insane? My brother marrying you is the best thing that ever happened to your pathetic life!” Ethan suppressed his anger. “Chloe, don’t say things in anger.” “I’m not angry.” I pulled the signal transmitter out of my wedding dress. “I also regret saving your life.” Ethan’s voice instantly turned freezing cold. “What did you say?” Zoe burst into laughter. “Oh, here we go. The ‘life-saver’ drama again.” “Are you going to claim Sienna stole your entire life next?” I ignored her. The transmitter had only one button. My fingers were shaking violently. It took me three tries to finally press it down. Ethan’s voice was still coming through the speaker. “Chloe, Sienna is the one who saved me.” “Everyone in the Sterling family knows that.” “Don’t insult her with these desperate lies.” I smiled faintly. “Fine.” “Then I hope you and your savior grow old and gray together…” Ethan’s breathing grew heavy. “You’re becoming completely unreasonable.” I could barely hear him anymore. My ears were filled with the rushing sound of blood pounding against my eardrums. Outside, Zoe murmured impatiently. “Just hang up, Ethan. Sienna is looking for you.” The call was cut off. The bodyguard kicked the door from the outside and tossed my phone back in through the gap. “Stop acting.” “When Mr. Sterling comes down, you can explain yourself to him.” I didn’t have the strength to reply. I picked up the phone and dialed a number. A number I had deleted but remembered for years. On the third ring, the call connected.

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My boyfriend, Wallace Vance, was the most ruthless designer in the fashion industry. He showed no mercy, not even to me, his exclusive runway model. When my weight went over by less than half a pound, he kicked me straight off the runway. “Alice, this is business, not a game,” he said coldly. “I won’t give you special treatment just because you’re my girlfriend.” I respected his work ethic. Or at least, I tried to. Until today. I had to leave the gym early because of a sudden dizzy spell from low blood sugar. When I walked into our apartment, I saw Juliet, my curvy best friend, trying on Wallace’s brand-new couture gown. Wallace was looking at her with a look of pure adoration—a look he had never given me. “I spent months designing this collection specifically for your body,” Wallace cooed, his voice dripping with sweetness. “You’re going to be the most unique star in the modeling world.” Juliet pouted, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But Wallace, I’m so much bigger than Alice. I’ll look like a joke next to her.” “Alice has the standard runway body, but you? You’re my real muse,” Wallace whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “She doesn’t even compare to you.” A cold sweat broke out over my skin. My hands shook as I unlocked my phone and sent two texts to my dad. [Dad, I agree to the arranged marriage with Leo Sterling.] [Also, pull all James Group funding from Wallace’s fashion brand. Effective immediately.]

After sending the texts, my head was still spinning. I stumbled toward the kitchen, desperate for a piece of chocolate to stop the trembling in my hands. Just then, Wallace and Juliet walked out of the dressing room, laughing and whispering. The moment Wallace saw the chocolate in my hand, his smile vanished. “Alice, you’re supposed to be at the gym right now,” he snapped. “I’ll let the laziness slide this once. But chocolate? High-sugar junk food?” “Where is your self-control?” I stared at the tiny piece of chocolate in my palm, completely stunned. The man standing in front of me, screaming at me over a bite of chocolate, felt like a total stranger. I remembered when we first graduated. He had absolutely nothing back then. He did freelance sketching to pay the bills. He worked until his wrists were swollen just to make a few thousand dollars, and he spent every single penny of it on me. He used to buy me snacks and desserts, never caring about carbs or calories. He loved buying me pretty dresses and would always tell me how beautiful I looked. He never cared if I fit into a sample size. Now, with my heart racing from the hypoglycemia, I asked him quietly, “You can let Juliet model your couture, but I need your permission just to eat a piece of chocolate when my blood sugar crashes?” Wallace noticed my hands shaking. For a split second, guilt flashed across his face. He grabbed a glass of orange juice from the counter and handed it to me. “If you’re having a medical issue, of course you can eat. I didn’t mean it like that.” But Juliet’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. She bit her lip, looking incredibly hurt. “Alice, if you’re mad at me, I won’t wear the dresses. I’ll take them off right now.” “I know my body isn’t as perfect as yours. I’m not a professional like you.” Wallace panicked instantly. “No, Juliet! Don’t say that!” “Alice is too skinny. It’s unhealthy. You look perfect just the way you are.” “And besides, this collection was made for your curves. No one else can pull it off.” He turned back to me, his eyes full of annoyance. “Alice, if you really care about Juliet as a friend, stop comparing yourself to her. It’s pathetic.” “She has something you don’t. She’s not like those cookie-cutter runway models.” Without waiting for my reply, he grabbed Juliet’s wrist. “Come on, Juliet. Ignore her. Let me take you out to that seafood place you wanted to try.” The front door slammed shut. So, he knew being too skinny was unhealthy. So, all his strict rules were just a lie. All of Wallace’s professionalism and high standards disappeared the second Juliet was the one on the table. My eyes burned with tears. I tilted my head back, forcing them down. My phone buzzed. It was a message from my dad. [Alice, I’m so glad you’ve finally come to your senses! Leo is going to be thrilled. The engagement party is set for two days from now. Is that too soon for you?] I replied instantly: [No. Two days is perfect.]

While packing my bags, I found two sets of design sketches on Wallace’s desk. One was my wedding dress. There was only one draft. The lines were messy, the design completely basic and plain. The other set was Juliet’s bridesmaid dress. There were over a dozen detailed sketches. He had redesigned the embroidery on the hem nine times. The cut of the dress was specifically tailored to hide Juliet’s insecurities and highlight her best features. It was gorgeous. In fact, it looked far more like a luxury wedding gown than my own dress did. A few weeks ago, I had asked him, “Don’t you think my wedding dress is a bit too simple?” He had replied, “You look best in simple things.” I had been stupid enough to take it as a compliment. He just didn’t care enough to put any effort into me. My phone rang. It was the wedding planner. “Hi, Alice. I’m the coordinator for your wedding with Wallace. I just wanted to double-check one detail with you.” “Are we absolutely sure about replacing all the fresh lily of the valley with yarn crochet flowers? Artificial flowers might look a bit cheap on camera.” The tear I had been holding back finally rolled down my cheek. Juliet was highly allergic to flower pollen. He had planned this down to the very last detail. Without even consulting me, he had ruined the lily of the valley theme I had been dreaming of for years. I wiped my face. “It’s fine. Just do whatever Wallace requested.” After all, this wedding wasn’t really mine anyway. Whatever they did had nothing to do with me anymore. Shortly after I hung up, Wallace came home. He was holding a box from my favorite bakery. “Hey, Alice. Still feeling dizzy? I brought you your favorite lemon tart.” His tone was casual, as if nothing had happened. This was his usual way of sweeping things under the rug. When I didn’t answer, he pulled me to the dining table. “Even if you’re mad at me, you need to eat. It breaks my heart when you’re sick.” I stared at him, seeing a shadow of the boy he used to be. He used to care about me more than anyone. When I lost my appetite, he—a guy who hated the smell of grease—would look up recipes and spend hours in the kitchen trying to make something I’d eat. When my medical checkup came back with bad results, he would grill the doctor about every single metric until the doctor had to tell him to calm down. But everything changed the moment Juliet moved to our city. At first, Wallace criticized her. He said she had no business trying to be a model if she couldn’t manage her weight. But slowly, he started saying things like, “Curvy girls actually have a lot of charm.” They both loved bold, avant-garde styles. They shared the same creative vision. Later, he told me that Juliet was like his soulmate, his ultimate muse. The memories tasted bitter, making the sweet tart on the table look disgusting. I reached for the spoon. But before I could touch it, Wallace suddenly stood up, knocking the lemon tart right onto my lap. The sticky cream and pastry soiled my clothes, leaving me in a complete mess. Without even looking at me, he grabbed a shopping bag from the closet and rushed toward the door. “An emergency came up at the studio. I have to go.” “I’ll buy you another dessert next time.” I quietly cleaned the sticky cream off my clothes. Just then, my phone chimed with a Snapchat notification. It was Juliet’s public story. The caption read: [I just mentioned wanting a vintage silk dress, and someone brought it to me instantly~] The comments were already piling up. [Juliet’s curves look amazing in that slip dress! So gorgeous and cute!] [This photo has Wallace’s signature lighting. Wait, isn’t Wallace getting married soon? Is Juliet the bride?!] [Has to be! Wallace is so strict with models, but he always makes an exception for Juliet!] I tapped on the photo. I recognized the slip dress immediately. The shimmering silk, the delicate hand-pressed patterns. It was identical to the most precious dress in my collection. I ran to my closet and dug to the very bottom. The box was empty.

I drove straight to Wallace’s studio. On the way there, memories of my mother sewing that dress while she was dying of cancer kept flashing in my mind. When I was little, I hated wearing the same clothes as other kids. So, every year for my birthday, my mom would make me a custom dress. Until my seventeenth birthday. That year, she started working on the silk slip dress months in advance—from her hospital bed. Between chemotherapy sessions, she would sew stitch by stitch. She finished it the day before she passed away. It was the last birthday gift she ever gave me. I only wore it on my birthday, and only for half a day, because I was so afraid of ruining it. I pushed open the studio door. Wallace, who usually kept a professional distance from female models, had his arms wrapped around Juliet from behind, adjusting the tape measure around her waist. They looked incredibly intimate. Seeing me enter, Wallace’s face darkened, as if I had ruined their fun. “Give me my dress back,” I said, my voice cold. He knew the story behind that dress. He knew exactly what it meant to me. But looking at him, all I saw in his eyes was his adoration for Juliet. He paused for a few seconds, his tone growing arrogant. “Alice, honestly, this dress looks much better on Juliet. Don’t you think?” “You’re too skinny. You can’t fill it out. But Juliet has real curves. It fits her perfectly.” My whole body began to shake with rage. “So just because it fits her, you think you can steal it?” “Take it off right now, or I’m calling the police!” Wallace looked at me as if I had lost my mind. He immediately stepped in front of Juliet, shielding her. I was so angry that I rushed forward to grab the dress. In the scuffle, a pair of heavy fabric shears fell off the cutting table, plunging straight into the top of my foot. Pain exploded through my body as blood began to pour onto the floor. The shears had gone deep. I leaned down and pulled them out, causing a fresh gush of deep red blood to soak my shoe. Juliet started sobbing loudly. “Wallace, does Alice hate me that much?” “I know I’m not as skinny as a real model, but I’m trying so hard…” Compared to the bloody hole in my foot, Juliet’s fake tears obviously hurt Wallace much more. He glared at me, his patience entirely gone. “Alice! Do you have to make her cry to be satisfied? Apologize to Juliet right now!” “Me? Apologize?” The physical pain in my foot was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the hollow feeling in my chest. Juliet grabbed Wallace’s arm, acting like the bigger person. “Wallace, don’t argue with her. You’ve been working so hard lately.” “Alice, I’ll take the dress off right now. Please stop making a scene.” Her words only made Wallace’s heart ache for her more. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and looked at me with disgust. “Since Juliet is willing to be the bigger person, I’ll let this go.” “But you’re going to walk down to that bakery and buy Juliet’s favorite blueberry cheesecake to apologize. Otherwise, you’re never getting this dress back.” He was doing it again. Making me “apologize” for things that weren’t my fault. If I ate a little extra for dinner, he made me run ten miles to “apologize.” If I drank too much water and looked bloated in the morning, he made me take a freezing ice bath to “apologize.” I looked at him, and any remaining love I had for this man completely died. Only the desperate urge to escape was left. “Fine,” I said quietly. Wallace was stunned. He hadn’t expected me to give in so easily. He let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to be reasonable. Go on then. When you get back, we’ll talk about the wedding details.” At the mention of the flowerless wedding, I let out a dry laugh. “There won’t be a wedding. Once I get my dress back, we are completely finished.” Wallace assumed I was just being dramatic. He was already busy wiping Juliet’s tears with a tissue. I limped out of the studio, ignoring the pain in my foot, and hailed a taxi on the street.

I didn’t expect the ride to be a nightmare. The driver was driving erratically, slamming on the horn and speeding down the road. He was gritting his teeth, muttering and ranting about how his wife had cheated on him. Realizing something was terribly wrong, I grabbed my phone and spammed Wallace on Snapchat. [Wallace, my driver is acting crazy. Call the police for me.] [He’s mentally unstable. I’m in danger.] [Please, see this message and call the police!] We were about a mile away from the bakery when the driver suddenly turned to me, his eyes bloodshot. “I heard this bakery is great. Do you like cake too?” My heart was in my throat. I tried to keep my voice steady. “I’m just picking it up for someone else. I’ve never had it.” Just then, my phone rang. It was Wallace. Under the driver’s suspicious gaze, I trembling clicked accept. But it wasn’t Wallace’s voice. It was Juliet’s mocking tone. “Alice, stop spamming Wallace to get his attention.” “He’s busy using the fabric from your mother’s dress to design a new piece for me.” “And what’s with this fake emergency? Do you really think Wallace has time for your drama right now?” “Why don’t you just go die and see if he actually cares?” My back was soaked in cold sweat. Before I could scream for help, Juliet hung up the phone. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his expression turning cold and sinister. “I was going to give you a chance because you looked so pretty going to get cake.” “But it turns out you’re just like me. Unloved. Pathetic.” “Why don’t we just die together?” With a wild laugh, he yanked the steering wheel, crashing the car straight through the bridge railing. “No!” I reached forward to stop him, but it was too late. The car plummeted off the bridge, crashing into the freezing river below. The violent impact shattered my bones, and my body went numb. Before I lost consciousness, all I could feel was the biting cold of the water. Meanwhile, back at the studio, Wallace’s assistant rushed into his office. “Wallace, we have a massive problem.” “The James Group—our biggest investor—just pulled all their funding. We don’t have enough capital to launch the new collection!” Wallace rubbed his temples, frustrated. “Alice was the one who secured that investment. I’ll call her and see what’s going on.” But before he could dial, a breaking news alert popped up on his laptop screen. [Local Tragedy: A taxi driver went on a suicidal rampage today. The driver died on impact, but a female passenger was pulled from the river with severe injuries. She is currently in critical condition at General Hospital.] A sudden wave of dread washed over Wallace. He opened Snapchat. The moment he saw the chat history, his blood ran cold. The screen was filled with desperate SOS messages from Alice. Juliet came up behind him, whining. “Wallace, Alice was just playing a prank earlier, pretending she was in danger. I already called and chewed her out.” “Just ignore her. Hey, do you think Alice has any other vintage dresses I could borrow? Like that silk one…” Wallace turned on her, his face pale with fury. “Shut the hell up!” he roared. “All you care about is stealing her things!” “Do you realize you might have just killed her?!” He grabbed his car keys and drove like a maniac to the hospital. When he burst through the door of the ICU wing, he froze. Standing outside my room was a man he never expected to see. Wallace stuttered, “M-Mr. James? What are you doing here?”

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My husband had recently become obsessed with filming “couple prank” videos for TikTok. Late one night, he suddenly called me. His voice was unusually serious. “I cheated on you.” I thought it was just another one of his carefully prepared pranks. Playing along, I answered without hesitation,, “What a coincidence. I cheated too.” I waited for him to laugh and say, “Got you!” Like he always did. Instead, the line went silent. A few seconds later, he let out a relieved chuckle. “Thank God. Now I don’t have to worry about violating the prenup.” “The divorce papers are in the safe. The password is our wedding anniversary.” Then he hung up. Still smiling, I walked to the safe and entered the code. The divorce papers… were real. Just as I was about to call him back to confront him, my phone buzzed with a message from his new assistant. “Mrs. Carter, this isn’t a prank.” “I’m pregnant with your husband’s child. I’m six months along.” **Chapter 1** A photo of a pregnant belly was sent to my phone. I went completely cold, waves of nausea washing over me. I forced down the sickness and called Ethan back. It took three tries before he finally picked up. A young woman’s sweet, whiny voice came from the other side. “Babe, who is it? Calling so late…” Then came Ethan’s cold voice. “Did I not make myself clear?” I quickly explained, “I didn’t cheat! I thought you were recording another prank challenge, so I just played along…” He cut me off with a scoff. “Changing your story now? Did you see the terms in the divorce agreement and want to clear your name?” “Let me tell you, that’s not happening.” “I’ve already recorded you admitting to cheating.” “With my current net worth and resources, you stand absolutely zero chance if we go to court.” “For the sake of our history, I’ll let you keep the condo downtown, plus an extra three million dollars. Consider it my thanks for you staying at home to take care of me all these years.” He paused. “Sign the papers tomorrow. Let’s make this clean.” I married him right after college. I was by his side when he started from nothing, watching his tech company grow into an industry giant. I watched him become a billionaire. And in the end, my ten years of devotion and sacrifice were only worth a condo and three million dollars? His casual words crushed my heart into dust. My voice trembled. “Ethan! I know you’re doing this for a TikTok prank. Please stop lying to me, okay?” I still didn’t want to believe it, desperately clinging to that sliver of hope. But the voice on the other end changed. It was his new assistant, Olivia Ward. “Chloe, Ethan isn’t filming a prank. What’s between us is real.” “I’m already pregnant.” The phone seemed to be snatched back, but I could hear his faint voice in the background. “Why waste your breath on her? Let’s keep going.” My chest burned with acid. Before I could say another word, the call was disconnected. When I tried calling back, his phone was already turned off. I couldn’t sleep. I sat there in a daze for a long time. My tears soaked into the silk nightgown he had bought me just yesterday. “Sweetheart, I had a designer custom-make this for you. I hope it helps you sleep better.” I smiled bitterly, wiping my nose, and looked down at the diamond bracelet on my wrist. He had given me this bracelet the day before yesterday. “The moment I saw it, I knew it was perfect for you.” “People say women age after marriage, but to me, you’ll always be the girl who stole my heart.” I ripped the bracelet off and slammed it onto the hardwood floor. There was no going back… At eight o’clock the next morning, Ethan sent me a location. [Come here at ten. Bring the signed divorce papers.] Looking in the mirror, I seemed to have aged three years overnight. I had to apply concealer five times just to hide the dark circles under my eyes. I tried my best to look put together, but nothing could hide how exhausted I was after a sleepless night. When I arrived at the cafe, I saw Ethan sitting with Olivia. She sat right next to Ethan, leaving the seat opposite them empty. As soon as I sat down, Ethan pushed an iced Americano toward me. “I ordered this for you.” “But I never drink iced Americanos. You know I have a sensitive stomach. My ulcer just flared up again two days ago. I can’t drink cold things.” He frowned and pulled the coffee back. “Sorry, I forgot.” Just as he was about to order me something else, Olivia spoke up with a look of mock apology. “Chloe, I’m so sorry. That coffee was actually meant for me. This warm milk is what Ethan ordered for you.” “But my stomach suddenly hurt, and I wanted something warm, so I swapped them.” I didn’t hear a word she said. I just stared at her twenty-two-year-old face, feeling a sharp pang of envy. She was so young. No wonder Ethan liked her. I used to look like that, too. Suddenly, she stared at the necklace on my neck and gasped, looking at Ethan. “Didn’t I tell you to return this? Why is Chloe wearing it?” **Chapter 2** I frowned. “What do you mean?” Olivia smiled brightly. “Ethan saw this necklace and thought it would look good on me, so he bought it.” “But I didn’t really like it, so I told him to return it.” This necklace was a gift from Ethan for our seventh wedding anniversary, six months ago. “I was busy with meetings all day today, but I managed to slip out to the mall to pick this out. I thought it would look great on you.” I had looked at the pendant design and teased him with a smile, “Why did you buy me something that looks like it’s for a teenage girl?” He had just kissed my forehead. “In my heart, you’ll always be the same girl who stole my heart ten years ago. Now, go get ready. I’m making dinner, and we’ll celebrate our anniversary with a candlelit dinner.” Tears flooded my swollen eyes again. I must have looked pathetic. I struggled to unclasp the necklace, ripped it off, and threw it to the ground, letting it gather dust. Ethan looked annoyed. “Alright, calm down. I admit I forgot the exact date of our anniversary back then.” “But I couldn’t just go back empty-handed, so I got you that. I saw you wearing it all the time, so I thought you liked it.” I completely broke down. I grabbed the iced Americano and threw it right in his face. “I wore it not because I liked it, but because you gave it to me!” “Ethan, what do you take me for?” As I screamed those last words, a sharp pain shot through my stomach, and I collapsed onto my seat. But a second later, a cup of sticky, warm milk was splashed all over my face. “Chloe! I’ve always respected you, but how dare you throw coffee at Ethan in public?!” “Since you did that, don’t blame me for returning the favor.” Ethan immediately comforted her. “It’s fine, Olivia. I’m just here for the divorce papers. Don’t waste your time on her.” After Olivia finished wiping the coffee off his face and clothes, he held out his hand to me. “Give me the signed papers. Let’s not waste each other’s time.” “I’m not signing. As long as I don’t divorce you, Olivia will always be nothing but a dirty homewrecker.” Seeing my refusal, his anger flared instantly. “Don’t you have a side piece of your own? Or do you want an open marriage?” I felt sick to my stomach. “I don’t have anyone! I told you, I thought you were filming a TikTok prank, so I played along!” “You’re the only one who cheated!” But he scoffed. “Say whatever you want. This divorce is happening. Besides, you can never give me a child.” “But Olivia is pregnant with my baby. I have to take responsibility.” His words stabbed the most painful, vulnerable part of my heart. Ten years ago, to save Ethan during a mugging, I took a knife wound to the abdomen. The sharp blade pierced my lower stomach, and blood instantly soaked my dress. The doctors fought hard to save my life. But they told me— I would never be able to have children of my own. Ethan had stayed by my hospital bed, crying as he promised me, “Don’t be afraid. It doesn’t matter if we can’t have kids.” “I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.” “I will never let you down.” The pain made it hard to breathe. Finally, I gathered my thoughts and asked him, “When did you two start?” He didn’t hesitate. “Yesterday was our one-year anniversary. Today is day three hundred and sixty-six.” He remembered it so clearly. **Chapter 3** I smiled. “You’ve been together for so long, and Olivia only got pregnant now?” A condescending smirk played on his lips. “Olivia has standards. She refused to sleep with me until I promised to divorce you.” I stood up on my shaky legs, pointing at him. “Then what was our sex life for the past year to you?” He decided to stop hiding. “Let’s just say I couldn’t bring myself to ruin Olivia, so I used you to satisfy my needs.” “You already know the answer anyway. Why ask? Just to humiliate yourself?” My stomach cramped violently, and I dry-heaved again. The milk on my face tasted bitter, and I laughed at myself. “So the nightgown and the diamond bracelet… they were just things Olivia didn’t want, right?” He didn’t answer, which was as good as a confession. He just kept urging me without looking up. “Just sign it.” I pulled the papers from my bag and tore them to shreds. “Never. I won’t let you two be together!” Olivia threw a stack of photos onto the table, sliding them to me with a smug smile. “Chloe, I have proof of your affair. If you refuse to sign, we can post these online.” “If that happens, you won’t just lose Ethan—you won’t get the condo or the three million dollars either.” My head spun. I picked up the photos, but before I could even look at them, everything went black and I collapsed. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. A beam of light fell across Ethan’s face, making him look just like the man who loved me with all his heart ten years ago. He handed me a bowl of oatmeal, his tone surprisingly cold. “You haven’t eaten all day. Eat this, then sign the new papers. After that, we’re done.” Weakly, I took the bowl. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my medical chart on the bedside table. It clearly read: stomach bleeding and hypoglycemia. My hand shook, and the hot oatmeal spilled all over the blanket. I closed my eyes, breathing heavily. The cold air in the hospital room made me shiver. Ethan scoffed in disgust. “What are you acting weak for? You think this will stop the divorce?” “Ethan… I really didn’t cheat. There is no one else. Only you!” To my explanation, he simply threw a new set of papers at me. “Now the condo and the three million are off the table. You’re leaving with nothing. If you’re not happy, we can take this to court.” “Ethan, I helped build that company too!” I yelled, my eyes red. “Are you kidding me? You’ve been a housewife for years. The shares are all in my name.” With that, he shoved a pen into my hand. “Sign it. Don’t make me say it again.” Enduring the sharp pain in my stomach, I looked at the photos. In the pictures, I was acting intimately with a man I didn’t even recognize. There were even photos of us kissing. We were wearing five different outfits, implying we had met five times. Olivia walked in from the hallway, her voice soft and sweet. “Chloe, I didn’t want to show these to Ethan. I wanted to save you some dignity.” “But since you refused to sign, I’ll just have to post them online.” **Chapter 4** My heart squeezed painfully. I grabbed Ethan’s hand, trying to explain. “Listen to me, I don’t even know this man!” “I don’t want to hear it.” He cut me off, looking completely annoyed. “You don’t have to sign. We can go straight to court. It’ll just take a bit more time, but the result will be the same.” The pain in my stomach grew worse, and my heart ached in sync. After a couple of seconds of silence, I spoke in a raspy voice. “Fine. I don’t want to drag this out either.” Once he got the signed papers, he tossed a card onto the bed. “The three million is gone, but there’s thirty thousand dollars on this card. It should last you a while.” How pathetic. Ten years of youth and devotion. His net worth was in the billions, and I was worth thirty thousand dollars. He took Olivia’s hand and walked out of the room. Tears blurred my vision as I called out quietly behind him, “Ethan, you better not regret this.” He paused slightly and said, “I hope you and your lover are happy too.” After they left, I sat alone on the hospital bed, looking at the photos, a cold smile forming on my lips. I didn’t know the man in the photos at all. These photos were definitely photoshopped. Since she dared to frame me, she could wait for a court summons. I gathered all the evidence and filed a lawsuit that very afternoon. The next day, right after I was discharged from the hospital, Ethan’s calls started flooding in. “Chloe, have you lost your mind?!” “Olivia just got a court summons! She just started working, can’t you have some consideration for her?” The phone was quickly snatched away, and Olivia’s whimpering voice came through. “Chloe, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have hired someone to take those photos and expose your affair.” “I’m apologizing to you. Let’s both take a step back. Can you please drop the charges?” Before I could speak, Ethan ordered coldly, “Olivia just caught you with that man. Is it really worth suing her? Come to the cafe across from the office right now. We need to talk.” “I can’t. I just got discharged. I’m not in the mood.” He scoffed. “Not in the mood? Because of your new guy? Did he dump you already?” I just smiled and didn’t answer. “You should actually read what’s on that court summons first.” “Tell Olivia she’s going to pay for what she did.”

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For the ninety-ninth time, Austin drove straight to my boss Brooke’s mansion. And just like every other time, he blamed me. “Why didn’t you remind me we missed the turn?” “Whatever. Since we’re already here, I might as well drop these fruits off at Brooke’s place.” Before I could answer, he grabbed the basket of organic fruit we’d bought for my parents and headed straight for Brooke’s front door. I didn’t stop him. After all, this had become our routine. When we were supposed to pick up my wedding dress, he ended up driving to the golf club where Brooke was playing. When I was burning up with a high fever, he took my medicine to the bar where Brooke was having a business dinner. Even on my birthday, he brought Brooke to what was supposed to be our date. “Brooke’s been under a lot of pressure lately,” he’d said. “You’re her assistant. Try to be more understanding.” But he had completely forgotten. Today was my very last day at the company. It was also the day I was packing up and moving out of our shared apartment. Since he loved being there so much, he could stay and be Brooke’s loyal watchdog for the rest of his life. *** ###

I locked the car doors, sat in the driver’s seat, and started the engine. Just then, an email notification popped up on my phone. My resignation was officially approved. HR emailed me: *“Wishing you all the best in your future endeavors, Chloe.”* I stared at the confirmation screen and typed back a simple, *“Thank you.”* A second later, my phone vibrated. It was a voice message from Austin. “Where did you drive the car? Get back here right now.” I paused. Looking at our chat history, there was a long list of unread messages from me that he had ignored. This rare moment of him taking the initiative to text me felt almost surreal. But before I could even process it, his next message popped up: “Go buy a set of electric screwdrivers and bring them over. Brooke doesn’t have any here.” I stared at the screen for a few seconds. So, he hadn’t suddenly realized I wasn’t behind him. He only noticed my absence because he needed someone to run his errands. I scrolled up through our chat history. Every single message from him was about Brooke. *“Give that perfume set you brought back from Paris to Brooke. I’ll buy you a new one later.”* *“Brooke said she wanted Japanese food. I already used your card to book a table for her.”* Austin’s texts to me were always demands. He made the decisions, and he never once thought to ask for my opinion. Then there was the most recent message from a rainy day. I had texted him asking if he could pick me up from the subway station. He replied: *“I’m out meeting clients right now. Just take an Uber.”* But five minutes later, Brooke posted a photo on her Instagram. An umbrella was tilted entirely over her, shielding her as she got into the passenger seat of a car. *“Almost got stuck in the storm. Thank God for my personal chauffeur,”* her caption read. I knew the car’s interior all too well. It was Austin’s. Back then, I kept telling myself that he was just trying to help me build a good relationship with my boss. I thought he was doing it for my career. But my constant understanding only made him push the boundaries further. This time, I didn’t reply. While I was packing up my desk at the office, another text from Austin came in: “Why aren’t you back yet? Brooke wanted French food, so I took her to the restaurant first. Just Uber over and meet us.” This wasn’t the first time. Whenever we made plans to eat out, if I was even slightly late because of work or traffic, Austin would lose his temper and blame me. He never cared about my feelings. “Brooke is your boss. She’s under a lot of pressure, so it’s normal for her to have a bad temper. What’s the big deal if she snaps at you a little? Stop being so dramatic.” *Stop being so dramatic.* That was also what he said when a pipe burst in my apartment, flooding the entire place. I had called him in a panic. And he had said: “I don’t have time to deal with that. Just call a plumber yourself. Stop being so dramatic.” So, I learned to dry the carpets, change the light bulbs, and fix things on my own. I slowly learned to stop relying on him. But when it came to Brooke, he was a completely different person. “Brooke is always so busy with work. If she needs help around her house, I’ll just handle it. Since she lives so close to Chloe, it’s on my way anyway.” I couldn’t understand. Why was helping me “being dramatic,” but helping Brooke was “just on his way”? I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and texted him back: *“You guys go ahead. I’m busy.”* It took him an hour to reply: *“Are you throwing a tantrum again? Chloe, grow up. Stop acting like a child.”* I used to throw tantrums. Last winter, I had a terrible fever in the middle of the night. Shivering under the blankets, I called him and asked him to bring me some medicine. He told me he was on his way to Brooke’s party because Brooke had had too much to drink, and he needed to bring her painkillers and electrolyte drinks. I told him I was really sick too. He stayed silent for two seconds before saying, “You can still make phone calls, so it can’t be that bad. Just call an Uber to the ER. It’s a twenty-minute drive. Hang in there.” That was the first time I felt I couldn’t take it anymore. He was my boyfriend, yet I was never his priority. I broke up with him that night. But he didn’t even argue. He just blocked my number. He knew I loved him too much. He knew I couldn’t leave him. So, he let me cry for two days straight until my tears ran dry. And then, like a fool, I went back to him. Since then, I had never thrown another tantrum. But this time was different. I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was done. *** ###

I got back to my apartment. Packed cardboard boxes were stacked up in the hallway, and the living room looked completely empty. Only then did I realize that after seven years of dating, there were barely any traces of Austin in my apartment. Just a pair of dusty slippers and a coffee mug he used once. And I was the one who bought both of them. He had never given me a decent gift. Yet, for Brooke’s birthday, he went out of his way to order a massive bouquet of her favorite red roses. When I asked him about it, he always said, “Those materialistic things are pointless. Real partners don’t care about fancy gifts.” I had questioned him. I had expressed my frustration. But he simply replied, “I only buy gifts for your boss to make you look good in front of her.” I laughed at my own stupidity. My phone vibrated. It was my mom calling. “Hey, Chloe. Have you and Austin decided on a wedding date yet?” Not long ago, our parents had met. My parents were very happy with him, but when it came to setting a date, Austin said he wanted to focus on his career first and that there was no rush. At the time, though disappointed, I tried to be understanding of his career goals. But now, I only felt relieved. If a man constantly drove his car to another woman’s house before marriage, how could I ever trust him to come home to me after? “Mom, we’re not getting married. I’m breaking up with him.” My mom’s voice instantly grew tense. “Why? Did he cheat on you?” “No. I just realized we’re not right for each other.” Silence fell over the line. After all, everyone knew I had loved Austin desperately for seven years. I was the one who chased him first. To get close to him, I joined the outdoor hiking club he liked and hung out at his favorite coffee shops just to “bump into” him. After graduation, he got a job offer in Los Angeles. Without a second thought, I turned down a prestigious recommendation from my professor and took an assistant job at Brooke’s company just to be in the same city as him. My mom was so angry she didn’t speak to me for three days, but I only told her, “Mom, if I lose him, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” Back then, Brooke even joked with me: “Chloe, you are completely whipped. He’s got you locked down.” Brooke used to be a good boss. She looked out for me, and we got along like friends. But no one expected that she would eventually enjoy my boyfriend’s undivided attention without a single shred of guilt. I opened Instagram and saw Brooke’s latest post. It was a video of her romantic dinner. The location was tagged at the high-end French restaurant I had mentioned to Austin dozens of times. The candles flickered, the plates were artfully arranged, and a live piano played in the background. Every time I asked Austin to take me there, he would say, “We’re saving up for a wedding, Chloe. Can you be more practical? A single dinner there costs hundreds of dollars. We can have a candlelit dinner at home.” But now, just because Brooke wanted French food, he took her to the exact restaurant I had been dreaming of. I sank onto the couch, feeling utterly exhausted. Last year, when I bought a heavy wardrobe, I called Austin to ask if he could help me assemble it. He said he had a team-building event and told me to hire a tasker. To save money, I spent the entire night assembling it myself by watching YouTube tutorials. I ended up cutting my hand on a sharp screw. Yet, when Brooke bought new cabinets, Austin took a half-day off from work to help her. “It’s heavy lifting, and Brooke is living alone. As her friend, I should help out,” he had said. I remembered watching him sweat as he worked on her furniture, realizing he looked like a complete stranger to me. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to assemble furniture. He just didn’t want to waste his time on me.

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1 I can smell when a heart turns. Pure love is sweet; when it rots, it reeks of vinegar. This gift made me a fidelity appraiser, hired daily by women to sniff out cheating. Then came an odd request from a student wanting me to test her wealthy sponsor. Fidgeting with her bag, she confessed he flew home at midnight to console her, stayed up talking, and even kissed her while she slept. “Please follow us today,” she asked, smiling shyly. I agreed, missing the malice in her eyes. An hour later, trailing them, I breathed in the thick sweetness of real romance. As I reached for my phone, he turned, and I froze. It was my husband, Hampton. Only a few hours earlier, he had held me in our kitchen, kissing me deeply and promising he would be away on a three-day business trip. My mind went entirely blank. Without even saying goodbye to the client, I hailed a cab and rushed back home. Not long after I arrived, the front door clicked open. Hampton walked in, immediately pulling me into his arms. The air around him was tainted with a faint, sour tang, heavily masked by a strange, floral perfume. I stiffened, my nose wrinkling. “Did you change your cologne?” His arms tightened around me, his body freezing for a fraction of a second. “Oh, the company just hired a new assistant. We had to work closely on a project earlier. I must have picked up her scent. I’ll be more careful.” “A new assistant?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. A look of genuine pride and fondness washed over his face. “Yes, Erica. She’s the student I’ve been sponsoring. She’s incredibly driven. Every time I see her working, it reminds me of how hard you used to push yourself when we were younger.” He kissed my forehead, a gesture that felt more like a distraction than affection. “What’s with the interrogation? Surely you aren’t jealous of a young student?” I didn’t answer. I merely held my breath, desperate to escape the suffocating mix of cheap perfume and rising sourness. “Is that so? For a moment, I thought you used the business trip as an excuse to see someone else,” I said, trying to sound playful, though my chest felt as if it were being squeezed by iron bands. The sour scent in the air spiked instantly, sharp and bitter. Hampton averted his eyes. “You and your jokes. You must be hungry. I’ll go make us some dinner.” In that single moment, my heart plummeted into a freezing abyss. We had been together since we were eighteen, sweethearts who had survived everything side by side. Hampton’s heart had always belonged entirely to me. When I was twenty, my abusive father had raised a wooden club to strike me. Hampton had thrown himself over my body, taking the heavy blow instead. As blood dripped down his forehead, he had looked back at my sobbing form and smiled. Don’t cry, Celeste. As long as I’m here, no one will ever hurt you again. When I was twenty-eight, my landlord had secretly filmed me in my own apartment and leaked the videos online. Standing on the edge of a rooftop, feeling utterly worthless, I had wanted to jump. Hampton had flown eight hundred miles, rushing up to the roof to pull me into his arms, sobbing. Celeste, look at me. This is not your fault. Through all those years, the scent of his love had remained perfectly, unbreakably sweet. Until today. I clutched my shirt, trying to cling to any shred of hope. What if my ability was malfunctioning? What if I was just letting my anxiety get the better of me? I held onto that hope until bedtime. I watched Hampton as he stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair. “Hampton, do you believe a person can love two people at the same time?” His movements halted for a single beat. That split second felt like a needle driving straight into my eye. He resumed drying his hair, his voice entirely casual. “Are you still overthinking things because of Erica? Stop worrying. I only love you.” He leaned down to press a soft kiss against my cheek, but I could smell it, the sudden, overwhelming wave of sourness that flooded the air the moment the lie left his lips. The next morning, Hampton prepared breakfast just as he always did. The milk was warmed to the exact temperature I liked, a habit he had kept for five years of marriage. But today, he took a photo of the breakfast plate, smiling as he typed a message on his phone. The sour scent grew even thicker. I chewed on my toast, but it tasted like ash. Suddenly, a loud, frantic ringtone shattered the silence. Hampton’s face turned pale. A weak, sobbing female voice came through the speaker. “Hampton, my head hurts so much. I feel so sick.” He stood up immediately, grabbing his coat and rushing toward the door, completely forgetting his car keys on the table. “I’m on my way.” He paused at the door, covering the microphone, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Celeste, something urgent came up at the office. Take a taxi today.” I sat in silence as the front door slammed shut. After a long while, I stood up, took his spare keys, and went down to his car. Inside, a delicate new ornament hung from the rearview mirror. The car freshener had been replaced with a heavy, cloying scent of freesia. I had always despised strong floral scents, which was why he had always chosen subtle woodsy colognes in the past. I reached into the side pocket of the driver’s door and pulled out a lipstick. It was a bright, youthful pink. It was a shade I would never wear, meant for someone much younger. My fingers clenched around the tube, my nails digging into my palms. On my drive to work, I passed a high-end restaurant I had wanted to visit for months. Every time I had brought it up to Hampton, he had brushed me off. The reservations are too difficult to get, Celeste. Besides, I’m too busy with work. You should go with your friends. Instinctively, I pulled the car over and walked inside. There, by the window, Hampton was sitting across from Erica, gently stroking her cheek. In that instant, a breathtakingly sweet fragrance filled my senses. It was the scent of Hampton’s pure, untainted love, but it wasn’t directed at me. It was entirely for her. My vision blurred, but no tears fell. “Hampton!” I lost all my dignity, screaming his name as I marched toward their table. The quiet chatter of the restaurant died instantly. “Celeste?!” Hampton gasped, staring at me in absolute shock. “What are you doing here?” He stood up, instinctively shielding Erica, whose face had gone pale with fright. Standing before me, the sweet scent on Hampton vanished, replaced by an overwhelming, toxic sourness that choked my lungs. His love for her had completely eclipsed his love for me, proven by the way he stood protectively in front of her. “My husband is about to kiss another woman, and I’m not allowed to be here?” I laughed, the sound hollow and sharp. Erica burst into tears, shrinking back behind him. Hampton wiped her tears away, looking at me with a heavy sigh. “I am her benefactor, Celeste. Erica is young, she’s just confused about her feelings of dependency.” He paused, his voice hardening slightly. “I sponsored her because she reminded me of how difficult your own childhood was. There is no need for you to act like this.” Erica peeked from behind his shoulder, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, Celeste. I never wanted to come between you two. It’s just that no one has ever treated me as well as Hampton has.” A fuse blew in my mind. I lunged forward, grabbing Erica’s arm, trying to drag her out from behind him. “You knew exactly what you were doing!” “Hampton, help me!” Erica cried out, deliberately collapsing toward him. “Celeste! Stop this!” Hampton’s face turned furious. His hand clamped around my wrist like an iron vise, squeezing so hard I was forced to let go. The whispers around the restaurant grew louder. “She can’t even keep her husband, so she takes it out on a young student. How pathetic.” “He said he’s just her sponsor. She’s completely overreacting.” “Look at her acting like a madwoman. No wonder her husband is looking elsewhere.” Several people pulled out their phones, recording the scene. “Stop making a scene. Haven’t you embarrassed us enough?” Hampton hissed through clenched teeth. I looked at Erica, who was hiding a smug smile behind her hands. Unable to contain the rage, I swung my hand and slapped her across the face. She cried out, stumbling backward into Hampton’s chest. Seeing this, Hampton shoved me away with immense force. I lost my balance, crashing hard onto the tiled floor. My arm swept a glass cup off the edge of a nearby table. It shattered, the sharp shards slicing deep into my forearm. Blood began to pool, mixing with the spilled water on the floor. Hampton stared at his hands in disbelief, his voice shaking. “Celeste, I didn’t mean to—” I couldn’t hear him anymore. A sharp, stabbing pain flared in my lower abdomen, accompanied by the suffocating, bitter stench of Hampton’s betrayal. My vision went dark, and I blacked out. When I finally regained consciousness, the sharp smell of hospital disinfectant filled my nose. Hampton was nowhere to be seen. I sat up with great effort and reached for my phone. My inbox was empty, save for two messages Hampton had sent three hours ago. The doctor said you’re fine. You crossed a line today, Celeste. I’ve left for my business trip. Let’s take some time apart to cool down. My fingers trembled as I typed a reply, still clinging to a pathetic shred of hope. Is Erica with you? I tapped send. A bright red exclamation mark flashed on the screen. He had blocked me. I stared at the screen, unable to deny the truth any longer. He didn’t love me anymore. For two days, Hampton made no attempt to contact me. When the nurse came to discharge me, she looked at me with deep sympathy. “Mrs. Ward, your chart shows you are eight weeks pregnant. Is your husband not coming to pick you up?” I was pregnant? My hand slowly moved to my stomach. This child was entirely unplanned, and my mind spun in confusion. As I hesitated, several patients walking by stared at me, whispering and pointing. A sense of dread washed over me. I opened my phone with shaking hands. My name was trending at the very top of the local news search. Erica had posted a video online. In it, she wept bitterly, claiming she was a hard-working student who had earned her scholarship, only to be falsely accused of being a mistress by her sponsor’s jealous wife. She claimed I had physically assaulted her and threatened to have her expelled. In the comments, someone had leaked my past trauma, posting about how my landlord had filmed me, claiming I was a loose woman who had seduced the landlord myself. The comments were a toxic tide of hatred. She’s dirty herself, so she thinks everyone else is dirty too. What kind of woman behaves like this? No wonder her husband wants out. I’m at the hospital right now. The nurses say she’s pregnant. Her husband should probably get a paternity test. No! That’s not true! It’s all lies! I screamed in my mind, but looking up, I only saw the judgmental, disgusted stares of the people around me. I stumbled out of the hospital, desperately calling Hampton. If he would just answer, he would fix this. He knew the truth about the landlord. He would protect me. The phone rang until it went to voicemail, over and over again. My hand dropped, the phone slipping from my fingers and clattering onto the pavement. Tears finally spilled over. I remembered how Hampton had been spending more and more time on his phone over the past year, always claiming it was work. Now I realized his attention had been entirely on Erica. He wouldn’t even take my calls anymore. I let out a bitter laugh. Celeste, you are such a fool. I will not wait for you anymore, Hampton. I gathered what little strength I had left, hailed a cab, and went home. When I woke up again, I was lying in our bedroom, changed into clean pajamas. The door clicked open, and Hampton walked in carrying a bowl of warm porridge. Seeing me awake, he set the bowl down and tucked the blanket around me, his eyes showing a flicker of concern. “I saw the news online. I’ve already had the search results taken down.” “I was only gone for a couple of days. How did you manage to ruin yourself like this?” I didn’t answer. The air in the room was a sickening mix of sweet and sour, making my heart ache with a dull, constant pain. Hampton blew on the porridge, his tone turning cold and accusatory. “But perhaps this is a good thing. This lesson should teach you not to make scenes anymore. Erica and I have a strictly professional relationship. It’s not as dirty as you think.” Strictly professional? I looked up, staring directly into his eyes. Those eyes, which used to look at me with absolute devotion, now held nothing but cold indifference. “Hampton,” my voice was barely a whisper. “I have a secret. I can smell betrayal.” “Years ago, you smelled incredibly sweet to me. There wasn’t a single drop of sourness in you. It was like that from the moment we fell in love.” Hampton’s face froze. “Celeste, you’re exhausted. You’re starting to hallucinate.” I ignored him, continuing quietly. “But everything changed the moment Erica appeared.” “Now, you smell sweet only when you think of her. When you look at me, you smell incredibly sour and bitter.” After a long silence, Hampton stood up, his expression hardening. “You need professional help. Get some rest.” I sat up, trying to grab his hand, but he stepped back, letting me fall forward. At that moment, the front door clicked open. Erica walked into the living room, holding a paper bag. I froze, watching her walk in as if she owned the place. “I’m just here to drop some things off,” Erica said, her voice dripping with mock shyness. “Hampton forgot these at my apartment.” Instinctively, I snatched the bag from her hand and tipped it over. Hampton’s spare underwear and a half-empty box of condoms spilled onto the floor. My hands shook violently. “Is this your strictly professional relationship?!” A flash of panic crossed Hampton’s face, and Erica immediately began to sob. “Celeste, please don’t misunderstand! I must have grabbed the wrong bag by mistake!” Hampton’s attention shifted entirely to Erica, pulling her gently into his arms to comfort her. The air in the room became thick with the sweet scent of their mutual affection, so strong it made me gag. Hampton turned to look at me, his scent toward me turning entirely rancid. “Erica is still fragile from the online backlash. I’m going to take her home. We’ll talk when I get back.” I clenched my fists so hard my nails drew blood. “Hampton,” I called out, my voice cracking. “It’s not over.” “Do you have any idea what they are saying about me online?” My voice trembled. “They are calling me a monster. Even if you took down the search results, the rumors are still spreading. They are dragging my past through the mud again.” His shoulders stiffened slightly. “If…” I thought of the child in my womb, my throat tightening. “If Erica records a video clarifying the truth right now, I will forgive you. This is your last chance.” I reached for my phone. “Enough!” Hampton snapped, slapping the phone out of my hand. “Celeste, you are out of control! A few comments online won’t kill you! First you invent this ridiculous story about smelling love, and now you want to drag an innocent girl into your drama?!” “Lest you forget, I still have the files from your landlord’s camera. Do I need to release them myself to make you behave?” The threat hung in the air, cold and merciless. My strength deserted me, and I collapsed onto the floor, staring at the man before me in absolute disbelief. This was the same man who had deleted those files with shaking hands years ago, whispering that he would protect me. Now, he was using my greatest trauma to threaten me into silence. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. Hampton avoided my gaze, turning his back on me. “Calm down and think about what you want. I’ll be back when you’ve cleared your head.” Without looking back, he took Erica’s hand and left. I lay on the cold floor, a sharp, unbearable pain tearing through my lower abdomen. Warm blood began to soak through my clothes. I reached out weakly, trying to grab my phone to call for an ambulance, when a notification popped up on the screen. It was a message from Erica, containing a link. Do you like my gift, sister? I opened the link. My old, private videos had been uploaded online, accompanied by a caption claiming this was the proof of my loose character. The world blurred around me. I felt the last of my strength fade. I pulled the pre-signed divorce papers from my drawer, smeared my bloody thumbprint across the signature line, and left them on the table. I don’t owe you anything anymore, Hampton. Four days later, unable to reach me, Hampton finally rushed back to the apartment. When he opened the door, there was no one home. There was only the dark, dried blood on the floor, and the blood-stained divorce papers resting on the coffee table. His face turned instantly pale.

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