1 The day after my engagement, I stumbled upon a forum post online: [What’s the psychology behind people who knowingly become the other woman?] The top comment immediately hit with that “profound truth”: [FYI, the unloved one is the side chick!] [Even though my boyfriend already has a fiancée, I don’t consider myself to be interfering in their relationship.] [He gives me his time, money, and love. Every night he expends his energy on me, while his fiancée, who knows how long it’s been since she’s been ‘satisfied’~] Someone below asked how she could be so sure they weren’t. This ID, “Stargazing Bunny,” immediately replied: [I put my exclusive temporary tattoo on that part of him—it’s a bunny, you know~ Every time he comes to me, I check. If it’s not there, I don’t let him touch me. He guards it so carefully!] [After all, I’m young and fresh, and his fiancée is old and withered. Only a fool wouldn’t know who to choose.] [Yesterday was his fiancée’s 28th birthday, and he didn’t even go back to spend it with her. He just sent a “Happy Birthday” at midnight, oh, and he sent it while we were “exercising” in my bed. He even asked if it was exciting, so annoying~] My fingers froze. Yesterday was my 28th birthday. … Almost instantly, I knew. Harrison Thorne was cheating. I scrolled down further. Stargazing Bunny’s profile had other posts. The previous one, posted three days ago: [Today I casually mentioned wanting to try that private kitchen on the West Side, and Mr. T drove me there at noon. It took over three hours round trip, just for me to have a meal. I fell asleep on the way back, and he let me rest my head on his arm the whole time.] [His fiancée called to ask if he was coming home for dinner, and he said he was tied up at work. After hanging up, he winked at me and said, “Now, you are my work”~] The accompanying photo was of a steering wheel. Outside the window was that familiar old street on the West Side. No wonder that day, Harrison, who said he had a meeting. When he returned, he brought me the signature dessert from that West Side private kitchen. He said a colleague was passing by while on a project and knew I liked sweets, so he specifically had them bring me a portion. Even with his busy schedule, Harrison still thought of me. That feeling of being cherished moved me deeply. Now, it just made me sick to my stomach. Scrolling further back. Stargazing Bunny had posted a fashion dilemma: [Help me choose, ladies. Which outfit should I wear to the movies with Mr. T tomorrow? He usually wears business casual, and I don’t want to be too formal or too casual. I’m so torn.] The photo showed two small dresses spread out on a bed. I bet she chose the pale yellow floral dress. That night, Harrison, who had never commented on my outfits before, uncharacteristically asked me why I didn’t wear floral dresses. Because I was too busy with work, I usually just wore whatever was most convenient. Afraid I’d misunderstand, Harrison immediately hugged me and explained: “Of course, my wife looks good in anything. I was just thinking that when I have some free time, I’ll take you on a beach vacation. You’ve always wanted to go to the Maldives, right?” “Dresses look even more beautiful on the beach, especially bright colors like pale yellow, they give off such a sunny vibe…” “And with some curled hair, it would make for great photos!” Turns out he wasn’t describing an outfit; he was describing a person. I took a deep breath, suppressing the dull, throbbing pain in my heart. Last month, Stargazing Bunny posted two movie ticket stubs. [The most classic romance movie, of course, has to be watched with the one you love.] The showing time was 5:20 PM. That day was our five-year anniversary, Harrison’s and mine. He was very earnest when he first pursued me. He’d bring me an umbrella when it rained, and wait downstairs when I interned late into the night. When I couldn’t write my thesis, he’d help me outline it, patiently, again and again. My roommate said, “Guys like this are rare nowadays, you have to hold onto him.” I did hold onto him. For five years, Harrison was always good to me. He remembered my period, what I liked and disliked to eat, and all our important dates. He truly hadn’t forgotten. But he had broken his promise. 2 My fingers trembled, barely able to scroll the screen. I flipped to the very beginning. Last September, “Stargazing Bunny” posted several consecutive updates. [Today at the gym, I met a super charismatic man! I was warming up, and he was running next to me. After finishing a set, I looked up and found him looking right at me. He even smiled.] [When I was changing equipment, I accidentally knocked over my water bottle, and he immediately came over to help clean it up, asking if I got burned. His voice was so nice, a deep bass; it must be so sexy when he’s breathing hard~] [Today I saw a woman on his phone’s lock screen. He said she was his fiancée, but not as pretty as me.] [Damn it, why is such a disciplined and gentle man already taken? I don’t care, I have to get him!] Harrison had maintained a gym routine for many years. But he wasn’t very diligent in going every week. It seemed that it was from last September that he started frequenting the gym. At the time, I had discomfort in my lower back from sitting too long at the office and also thought about exercising. But Harrison said his gym was too far from my company and inconvenient. He actively helped me find another, nicer gym nearby and bought me an annual membership. I thought he was being considerate, thinking of me. Turns out, this was the real reason. That man who swore he loved me, wanted to spend his life with me, and promised eternal fidelity. All his “overtime” and “busyness” for the past six months. He wasn’t working hard for our future; he was spending all his time with another woman. For a moment, I wanted to storm directly into Harrison’s company, in front of everyone. Throw the evidence in his face, demand to know why he did this to me. Humiliate him completely, ruin his reputation. But such a public showdown seemed so ugly. Five years together, why should it come to this? I braced myself on the table and staggered into the restroom. Splashing cold water on my face, I calmed down slightly. Picking up my phone, I refreshed the page. “Stargazing Bunny” had just posted a new update. [Tonight, he said he had a business dinner, but he really just didn’t want to go back to face that old woman~ Anyway, he’s here with me. We ordered crawfish and beer. He peels shrimp so seriously, more seriously than he takes off his own clothes, hehe.] The accompanying picture showed a man’s hands peeling shrimp, his knuckles distinct. Above that, his collar was slightly open, revealing a sexy collarbone and Adam’s apple. This angle, this action—I was all too familiar with them. Once upon a time, Harrison used to sit across from me like this, peeling and deveining shrimp for me. I worried he was working too hard, but he just smiled and said: “What’s so hard about serving my wife?” “Anyway, in this life, I’ll only ever serve one woman: you.” My phone suddenly vibrated. A message from Harrison: [Wife, I’ll be home a bit late. Want me to bring you some late-night food? Crawfish, do you want some?] I stared at that line of text for a long time. Every time he said that before, I would send a happy emoji. I paused, then typed: [No thanks, I’m not hungry.] He replied instantly: [Okay then, get some rest if you’re tired.] The sound of the lock turning. I looked at the clock, 10:30 PM. Harrison pushed the door open, carrying a cake box. Seeing me sitting in the living room, he froze for a moment, then walked over with a smile. “Didn’t I tell you to go to bed early? Why are you still waiting for me?” He placed the cake box on the coffee table and opened it. It was a strawberry cake from my favorite shop. “Passed by and saw their new seasonal limited edition. Thought you’d definitely like it, so I bought it. Consider it a belated birthday treat. I’ve been so busy lately. Thank you, my wife, for being so understanding and generous, for understanding that your husband’s work is tough and he can’t always be with you.” He spoke, reaching out to touch my head. His tone was natural, his movements fluid. No different from any ordinary night over the past five years. I looked at him. That familiar face, those gentle eyes, that hand rubbing my head. He didn’t look like a cheating man at all. But that hand, an hour ago, hadn’t it touched another girl? Touched every inch of her skin? I closed my eyes in disgust, pulling away from his touch. Harrison’s hand froze in mid-air. “What’s wrong, wife?” “You don’t look so good. Did you encounter a difficult client again?” I calmly explained, “No, just a little tired.” “Then I’ll cut you some cake. Eat a bite and then go to bed, okay?” I watched him lower his head. The contents of that forum post flashed repeatedly in my mind. “Sent birthday wishes while ‘exercising’ in my bed,” “his fiancée is old and withered,” “the unloved one is the side chick.” The unloved one is the side chick. Perhaps in some people’s eyes, love is a competition where first come, first served doesn’t matter. As long as the first one isn’t firmly chosen, they can be righteously replaced by the next. “Harrison.” He looked up, still holding the cake knife. “Hm?” I looked into his eyes, enunciating each word: “Do you have anything else you want to tell me?” 3 That was the last chance I gave Harrison. As long as he confessed proactively, we could part amicably, preserving his last shred of dignity. And it would have brought closure to my final lingering sentiment for our five-year relationship. “What do you mean?” “Helen, what’s gotten into you today?” Harrison’s expression also paused. Perhaps it was guilt. Perhaps it was a test. For the first time in five years, I couldn’t read the man in front of me. “Harrison, are you hiding something from me?” The fingers gripping the cake knife tightened slightly. Just for an instant, then his expression returned to normal as he continued to cut the cake. “Hiding what from you?” His voice was gentle as he offered the first slice he cut to me. “Did I upset my wife by secretly buying a strawberry cake without telling her?” The scent of strawberries wafted over. My favorite smell. Before, every time I smelled it, I couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him. Now, looking at that slice of cake, I just felt nauseous. “Answer my question.” The smile on his face slowly faded. He placed the cake on the coffee table and sat across from me. His hands were clasped on his knees, his posture relaxed. But his gaze was fixed on me. “Helen, did something happen to you?” He was observing me. After five years of being together, I could discern the meaning of his every micro-expression. At this moment, the corners of his mouth were slightly downturned, and there was a faint crease between his brows. It was his tense posture when facing an uncertain situation. “Harrison, I’m asking you right now. Answer me first.” Silence spread between us. His phone suddenly rang. He glanced at the screen, didn’t answer, and immediately pressed to dismiss the call. “Work stuff. I’ll call them back later.” I casually said, “Call them back now. What if it’s important?” “Nothing is more important than you.” Harrison had said that countless times. Each time, I believed it. Now, it only felt ironic. “Helen.” He called my name seriously, his gaze focused. “I don’t know if my recent lack of companionship has made you overthink. But I can tell you, I’m not hiding anything from you. It’s been five years, you know best what kind of person I am.” I was silent for a moment, then asked again, “Where were you this afternoon?” His eyes flickered slightly, then quickly returned to normal. “At the office. I had a meeting until after one.” “Who did you have lunch with?” “Ordered some takeout, just grabbed something quick.” “And tonight?” Harrison paused. “Didn’t I tell you? I had a business dinner. Smell me, I still have the scent of alcohol on my breath.” He said, trying to lean closer to me. Seeing my disgusted expression, he looked hurt. “Alright, alright, I know my wife doesn’t like me drinking. I’ll go shower right away.” The sound of rushing water from the bathroom. I stood at the door, hearing a muffled voice from inside. “Didn’t I tell you not to call me when I’m home? What if she finds out? She seems to have noticed something lately…” “No way, she’s the only daughter-in-law my parents recognized long ago. I can’t break up with her. Just be good. Besides going public, I’ll give you whatever you want.” “Little minx, next week you won’t be able to get out of bed. See how I’ll satisfy you.” Hearing this with my own ears, I thought I would be heartbroken to the point of tearing myself apart. But in reality, there was only a dull, spreading numbness. Perhaps my heart had truly given up. At 3 AM, Harrison was already asleep. His phone lay on the bedside table, screen down. I picked it up; the password was my birthday, unchanged. I checked it, and there was no abnormality. Just when I thought he had cleaned everything, I suddenly remembered he had a so-called work-only private account. Switching over, there was only one contact named [Ms. Bunny]. The chat history was dense. Besides daily exchanges, it was mostly indecent flirtation and teasing. Before he left in the morning, she asked: [Are you up?] He replied: [Both I and it are up.] Accompanied by a picture of a blanket bulging. At noon, he sent: [So conflicted, don’t know what to eat.] She replied with a selfie wearing lace: [How about eating me?] After saving all the evidence, I put the phone back in its place. Turning my head, I looked at the man’s sleeping profile. I suddenly remembered something. My hand reached for his pants. Just as I started to pull them down, Harrison noticed my movement. He groggily opened his eyes and pressed my hand down. “Wife, do you want to? I’ve been so tired from work lately. Let’s do it another time.” Was he really tired from work? Or had he expended all his energy on that Ms. Bunny? I remembered the glimpse I had just caught. The bunny tattoo. “Harrison, wake up. Tell me the truth.” “Who is that woman?”

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1 During my prenatal check-up, Justin received a call, and his face instantly changed. He looked at me, full of internal struggle and pain. “Carrie, Maya’s flight is today. She’s never coming back to the States.” “One last time, I have to see her off.” I gently stroked my belly, watching him silently. “Do you have to go?” Justin’s voice trembled; he dared not look at me. “Carrie, I will live a good life with you from now on. The three of us, as a family, will be good.” With that, he left without looking back. He didn’t see me collapse to the ground behind him. In the operating room, the doctor confirmed again. “This baby, we can still save it. Are you sure you don’t want it?” I closed my eyes and nodded. No, I don’t want it. And I don’t want Justin either. The name Maya was a taboo between Justin and me. No one had mentioned it for a long time. Hearing it again today, it felt strangely surreal. Justin’s expression was torn and pained, just like when he knelt before me, begging for my forgiveness. He swore to the heavens, promising me he would completely cut ties with Maya. “Do you have to go?” My voice sounded strangely calm, as if it wasn’t my own. But Justin had already left without looking back. His retreating figure was resolute and final. I, however, smiled. A sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen, and blood stained the floor. This child, after all, couldn’t be kept. … After the surgery, I returned home, my face ashen. The room was pitch black; Justin hadn’t come back. No calls, no messages. I pulled at the corner of my mouth, a mocking smirk. Where Justin was, was self-evident. Just as I was about to go to the bedroom, the front door suddenly opened. Justin was back. He looked at me, a little surprised, his eyes flickering. “Carrie, why are you in the living room? Why haven’t you rested yet?” He stepped forward, trying to put his arm around me. But I smelled a perfume that didn’t belong to me or him. As my gaze swept over his neck, I also saw a red mark. I should have been furious, but at that moment, I felt a sense of finality and relief. No questioning, no hysterics. I pulled back a step in disgust. “Justin, let’s get a divorce.” Justin froze, then his tone grew irritable. “Carrie! What do you want? I already told you, this was the last goodbye! Why can’t you be understanding?” I looked at the agitated Justin before me, my eyes somewhat unfocused. He rarely lost his temper with me. In everyone’s eyes, Justin adored me. I believed it too. He would spend a fortune to buy me exquisite jewelry. He would even set off fireworks that lit up the entire city on my birthday, just to please me. … These things were countless. Until the appearance of one person: his new assistant, Maya. Only because I asked Maya to get out of Justin’s passenger seat, Maya’s eyes turned red with grievance. Justin then lost his temper with me. At that moment, I knew Justin had crossed a line with Maya. I cried, I made a scene, even threatened to expose Maya and make it impossible for her to stay in the city. Justin, a man of such pride, knelt before me. He said he would end it completely. He said he was just momentarily lost. He said he would fire Maya and never see her again. At that time, touching the child in my belly, I decided to give Justin another chance. But now, I knew, I didn’t want this man anymore. Justin was still making excuses. “Carrie, I told you, this was the last time. She’s already gone, can you please stop this? Didn’t we say we wouldn’t bring up divorce anymore?” I looked at Justin, and the man before me seemed unrecognizable, having become a liar whose mouth was only filled with falsehoods. My lower abdomen started hurting again. I was too tired to argue with Justin anymore and turned to go back to the bedroom. A deafening door slam echoed from the hallway. 2 That night, I slept restlessly, my dreams filled with fragments of the past. Justin and I were in an arranged marriage. Yet, we were surprisingly compatible. I had hesitated about this relationship at the time. This circle always had its fair share of affairs. My parents respected my opinion greatly, and they also advised me to think carefully. It was Justin. He knelt before me, swearing to the heavens. “Carrie, I will never betray you in this life!” “I’m not like them! I will treat you well!” “There will only be you by my side!” … The vows in my ears felt like they were from yesterday, yet they had long turned into a joke. When Maya’s eyes were red and she looked timid, I saw the heartache in Justin’s eyes. That favoritism, once exclusively mine, he had given to another woman. I tearfully confronted Justin, even slapping him several times. But I only got his reply. “Carrie, this is how it is in this circle! Besides, I haven’t even cheated!” I broke down. I stopped eating and drinking, even having suicidal tendencies. That night, when Justin woke up with a start, he saw me standing by the window, one foot about to step out. Justin cried then, holding me tightly, dragging me to the sofa, then kneeling on the ground, slapping himself repeatedly. “Carrie, I’ll never say such foolish things again.” “I’ll make Maya leave. She’ll never appear before you in this lifetime.” I looked at Justin, and my heart softened. Later, things between us seemed to return to how they were before. But my heart, I don’t know why, became increasingly numb, colder and colder, until it was utterly desolate. Perhaps, I should have divorced then, but I had a child. That child, whom Justin and I had yearned for for three years. … When I woke up, it was already bright daylight. I went to the living room, only to see the table laden with my favorite dim sum. Justin was looking at me eagerly. “Carrie, you must be starving, right?” “This is from your favorite bakery, Sterling’s Finest.” “Hurry, eat something.” Justin’s expression was natural, as if yesterday’s events had never happened. He even pulled out a chair for me and set out chopsticks. I silently sat down and ate. My body urgently needed nourishment, and I was too tired to argue anymore. Seeing me finish my meal, Justin also relaxed. He thought yesterday’s events were over. “Carrie, I’ll be on a business trip for a while. Take good care of yourself at home.” I calmly nodded. “When you get back, we’ll go file for divorce.” Justin’s face instantly changed. The cup beside him was slammed hard onto the floor. His tone was clearly filled with exasperation and anger. “Carrie, what do you want? I’ve already humbled myself, what else are you dissatisfied with? Why have you become so aggressive now? Carrie, I’m telling you, I’m not getting a divorce!” I looked at Justin’s distorted face before me, my heart surprisingly calm. The old Carrie would have probably cried from being wronged. Back then, she loved Justin. She couldn’t bear to let him go, even if he was emotionally lost. She would rather torment herself to death, just to give him another chance. But now, I didn’t want him. “Justin, I’m leaving. It’ll make space for your Maya. Why are you angry? I’m completing your happiness.” Justin grew even more furious. “Carrie! Don’t be so unreasonable! Yesterday, I told you it was the last time. I’ve already fired her as you requested, and we won’t see each other again. What else do you want me to do? Besides, I never even cheated in the first place! What do you want? I love you, only you, just you!” I laughed. I laughed at Justin’s shamelessness. “Justin.” “Do you really think I’m a fool?” “You came back so late yesterday. The red mark on your neck, the perfume on your clothes. This sudden business trip today.” “Justin, honestly, you’re quite shameless.” The room instantly fell silent. Justin’s chest heaved, his face alternating between green and pale. I ignored him and walked straight out the door. Justin probably forgot. When he knelt down and repeatedly promised to marry me, he had signed a divorce agreement. If he betrayed me, I could leave him anytime. Now, that divorce agreement was his comeuppance! 3 Leaving the house Justin and I shared, I returned to my parents’ home. My parents looked delighted to see me back. “Carrie, why did you come over today?” They came to greet me, their faces full of concern. “Didn’t you have a prenatal check-up yesterday? How’s the baby?” I couldn’t hold back anymore, and tears immediately streamed down my face. “Mom, Dad, the baby’s gone. I want a divorce.” My parents didn’t know about Justin and Maya’s affair. At that time, I was filled with resentment, pain, and indecision. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to be ruthless. I suffered and struggled alone, not telling my parents. My parents instantly fell silent after hearing my words. My mom’s eyes were red, and she hugged me tightly. “What happened? Are you hurt?” I cried even harder. I told my parents everything about Justin and Maya. Our family company still had a partnership with Justin’s family company. If we divorced, we would definitely have to sever ties. My dad slammed his fist on the table. “Divorce!” “Carrie, your mom and I are getting old; we don’t have much ambition left. No partnership, no partnership! We have enough money to support the three of us. No need to compromise!” Hearing my father’s words, I cried even more fiercely. I stayed at home like this. Justin’s calls were incessant, but I didn’t answer. I just wanted to quietly recover my body before dealing with the divorce. But that day, my father suddenly returned home, his face filled with rage. “That Justin, he’s a piece of trash!” It was from my father’s words that I learned Justin had actually started to suppress our family company! I couldn’t hold back anymore. I rushed out the door, determined to confront Justin. How could he have the nerve?! Returning to the house Justin and I shared. There was another person there: Maya, who was supposed to have left the country! Seeing me return, Justin’s face immediately darkened. Maya flinched, hiding behind Justin. Justin’s expression grew even uglier. “Carrie, do you have the nerve to come back?” I looked at him with a cold face. “Justin, why don’t I have the nerve to come back? You’re bringing your mistress into our home; how dare you lecture me? Even if we divorce, you have no right to target my dad’s company!” Justin’s eyes were dark and menacing. “Carrie, this is a warning and punishment for you! How dare you lay a hand on Maya? She was already leaving.” I looked at Justin and only felt absurdity. “I laid a hand on her? Justin, I wouldn’t want to dirty my hands!” Justin, however, sternly demanded. “Who else but you? You actually hired people to kidnap her and tried to humiliate her! Don’t you know, if I hadn’t arrived in time, Maya would have been ruined!” His gaze was cold, and a smirk played on his lips. “You once said you’d ruin Maya, didn’t you?” Yes, the crazy me, who once deeply loved Justin, had sworn to fight Maya to the death. But not anymore. I looked at Maya. She was softly sobbing behind Justin, but her eyes, when she looked at me, were full of provocation. I understood then: Maya had never intended to leave the country, never intended to leave at all. She was just playing a game of retreating to advance. The whole “kidnapping and humiliation” was her own well-staged act. Only Justin fell for it. Maya cautiously tugged at Justin’s sleeve. “Justin, please don’t argue with Ms. Jiang. I’m fine. It’s all my fault for getting too close to you, that’s why Ms. Jiang is angry. Don’t worry, I’ll definitely leave.” Justin, however, loudly stopped Maya. “Maya, don’t be afraid! I won’t let you leave! Going abroad alone, unfamiliar with the place, who knows what could happen.” After comforting Maya, Justin turned to me. “Carrie, I’ll arrange for Maya to work at a branch company. She won’t appear before us. This is compensation for you hurting her this time. Put away your petty thoughts. I told you, you will always be Mrs. Thorne.” At this point, his voice softened. “This time, I won’t pursue it. I know you care about me, and you’re just confused because you care. The partnership between Thorne Inc. and Jiang Corp. will continue. I’ll hold a press conference to stabilize the situation. We’re about to become parents, let’s be good and stop fighting, okay?” I only found it comical. He didn’t know the baby was already gone. The moment he chose Maya again. I didn’t want to argue with Justin anymore. Since he had no shame, I didn’t need to show any mercy. I gave Justin a deep look, then smiled and nodded. This time, I was going to give Justin a grand gift.

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1 A stranger started appearing in my social media logs, the account where I posted about my marriage. For a month, she kept visiting. Finally, I messaged her: [Who are you?] After a long silence, she posted three updates. The first text read: [First saw you a month ago. You were buying irises for your wife after work, saying they were her favorite. Mine too.] My husband had been bringing me irises daily for a month, claiming he bought them near his office. The second post showed two hands holding each other. The man’s hand had a hexagram tattoo—identical to the one on my husband’s hand. The caption: [Our first time holding hands.] My hands shook as I opened the third post. It was an ultrasound report with the message: [I’m pregnant. So, are you going to divorce your wife?] … I stared, frozen, at the glaring image of the ultrasound report on my phone screen. I recognized every word, every medical term. But now, they swam before my eyes, blurring into an incomprehensible mess. I blinked hard, again and again, until the woman’s name finally swam into focus: Serena. A name I didn’t know, a name I had never once heard James mention. I kept telling myself it had to be a coincidence. It had to be. Any man in the world could cheat, but not James. Never James. His entire paycheck went into our joint account. He was home on time from the gym. When he was home, he took on the lion’s share of the housework without a word of complaint. He had no bad habits to speak of, save for the occasional weekend workout or badminton game. I had free rein to look at his phone, to check his bank statements whenever I wanted. He was, in the words of all my friends, the flawless, ideal husband. Even my parents, who hadn’t been his biggest fans initially, now sang his praises. Him, cheating? It was impossible. But once a seed of doubt is planted, it grows with monstrous speed. The conflicting thoughts ricocheting around my head all day nearly drove me mad. So, when it was time for James to get off work, I left the house. I found a spot inside a convenience store across from his office building and waited, hidden from view. At 6:05 PM, right on schedule, James walked out of his building and headed straight for the flower shop next door. My breath caught in my throat, my nails digging unconsciously into my palms. But the moment I saw the shop owner, a wave of relief washed over me. The woman was… plain. Unremarkable. She looked a couple of years older than James, and more importantly, there was a little boy of about seven or eight at her side. Clearly a mother. James walked in and expertly picked out a bouquet of irises, handing them to the woman to be wrapped. He even chose my favorite shade of wrapping paper, a pale, soft blue. A small smile touched my lips. The anxiety that had been twisting my gut all day finally unknotted. I even felt a pang of guilt, chiding myself for being so paranoid and sensitive ever since the miscarriage. No wonder James, when pushed to his limit, had told me he felt like he was suffocating sometimes. After our biggest fight ever last month, I had actually started to reflect on my behavior. James’s face, etched with exhaustion, was seared into my memory. “I’m already exhausted from working all day to support us,” he’d said. “I don’t want to come home and be interrogated like a criminal.” He was right. I had been pushing him too hard. But just as I was about to step out and surprise him, my eyes widened in disbelief. The florist didn’t take the flowers right away. Instead, she stood on her toes and planted a quick, butterfly-light kiss on his cheek. James didn’t push her away. He simply rested his hand on the small of her back, a gesture of casual intimacy. My hand, resting on the door handle, began to shake. The scene unfolding before me was so absurd, it burned. It merged with another memory, a scene from six months ago, right after I found out I was pregnant. That night, James hadn’t pushed away the girl a client had shoved into his lap. I’d gone to find him, worried he was too drunk, and I saw it all through the small glass window of the private room door. I watched him drink the liquor she fed to him with her own hands. The emotional shock of it all sent me into premature labor. I lost our first child that day. Later, James knelt by my hospital bed, his eyes red-rimmed, explaining that it was just business, just an act. He couldn’t risk offending the client by rejecting the girl so bluntly. He swore he had no feelings for her whatsoever. What were his exact words back then? He’d said, “Those women have nothing on you. They can’t compare to your looks, your education, your background, the way you carry yourself.” “Olivia,” he’d sworn, “I’m not stupid enough to cheat with someone who’s a downgrade.” I don’t remember how I got home. It was the sound of the front door opening that pulled me from the suffocating fog. James stood there, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag of fresh groceries in the other. He sounded cheerful. “How about beef and asparagus for dinner?” His tone was so light, so normal. But to me, it felt like a boulder crashing down, shattering what was left of my heart. I finally looked up at him, my voice trembling. “James, have you done anything to betray me?” 2 James froze, his expression stiffening. A second later, he forced an unnatural smile. “Liv, what’s with you? Getting suspicious again?” “You keep such a tight leash on me,” he continued, his voice growing steadier, more confident. “You really have nothing to worry about.” He sounded so sure of himself, his tone even bordering on impatient by the end. He looked like a man with a perfectly clear conscience. Seven years together, five of them married. I knew him too well. James was a man driven by pride and ambition. That’s why he’d worked himself to the bone, clawing his way up the corporate ladder in just a few years—all because he couldn’t stand the thought of people saying he’d married up by being with me. But that same pride made him incredibly stubborn. He would never, ever admit to anything unless he was caught red-handed. I managed a weak smile, my eyes drifting to his phone, which he’d casually dropped on the entryway table. He had a routine. The first thing he always did after coming home was take a shower. Sure enough, seeing that I wasn’t pushing the issue, he seemed to think I was just bluffing. He let out a barely audible sigh of relief. “Whatever. I’m used to you accusing me of things anyway.” “I’m going to go shower,” he said. “I’ll make you something delicious when I’m out.” Just like always, he left his phone behind, probably not wanting to make me more suspicious by taking it into the bathroom. Or maybe he just knew that I’d always been the trusting type, that I’d never stooped to secretly checking his phone. But this time was different. I’d already called my best friend earlier today, the one who specializes in divorce law. She told me that with what I had, proving infidelity in court would be difficult. That’s why I hadn’t confronted him with everything just yet. I had pulled strings for him, using my father’s connections to discreetly pave his way, all to protect his fragile ego. He had indeed soared, but if he was the one who had wronged me, then he deserved to be the one to crash and burn. James was cautious; I’ll give him that. A quick scan of his phone revealed no obvious clues. His chat logs were filled with colleagues and business partners, all labeled with their company and title. Until I opened the chat with his “Badminton Coach.” [Mr. Knight, I’ve sent over the photos from last week’s session. Please check them.] [You and your wife make a great pair. You’re both very talented.] I had never played badminton with him in my life. So of course, the woman in the picture wasn’t me. It was her. The woman from the flower shop. The shutter had clicked at the exact moment their eyes met, their gazes overflowing with a love that was supposed to be mine. A tear fell, then another, splashing onto the cold glass of the screen. The sound of the shower, muffled by the door, was the only thing that drowned out my choked sobs. And then, I found more. In a chat log with a contact saved as “S. Reid,” I found a running commentary of his entire life. What he had for lunch, a great song he’d heard, whether he was stuck in traffic on his way to or from work. James shared every mundane detail of his day with her. I realized with a jolt that because I’d been so distracted all day, I hadn’t messaged him once. And he hadn’t sent me a single word. Like a thief, I scrolled through their private world, my fingers moving on their own, peeking at a happiness that wasn’t mine to see. I was so engrossed that I didn’t even hear the water shut off. The sound of the bathroom door opening startled me back to reality. I instinctively exited the app and locked the screen. He emerged from the bathroom just in time to see me setting the phone down. Panic flashed across his face. “Were you checking my phone?” “If you haven’t done anything wrong, what are you so afraid of?” I shot back, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips. But before I could say another word, he strode towards me and snatched the phone from my hands. The sharp edge of the phone case scraped across my palm, hard. A line of red beaded up instantly. But James didn’t even notice. He was already launching into a tirade. “Olivia, do you have any idea how you’re driving me crazy?!” “I know you’re from a wealthy family, that you were marrying down when you chose me, but haven’t I been good enough to you?!” “Do you know what I feel like?” he spat, his voice raw with wounded pride. “A dog on a leash, and you’re holding the other end!” His ego, finally unleashed, consumed him. He threw on his clothes and stormed out of the apartment. The heavy slam of the door echoed in the now-empty room, leaving me alone with the sound of my own weeping, which I could no longer hold back. I don’t know how long I cried. Eventually, exhausted, I just lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling. That’s when my phone lit up. That same account had a new post. [He knows I’m pregnant. He was so happy.] [He told me to keep the baby.] The phone slipped from my grasp, clattering to the floor. It landed face up, the screen glowing. And just as I looked, a new notification appeared. It was a direct message from her. [I know you’ve found out. Let’s meet.] 3 I never thought it was possible. I never imagined someone could be a homewrecker and be so brazenly proud of it. Serena sat down across from me, her eyes scanning me up and down, making no effort to hide her appraisal. “You’re not as beautiful as I imagined,” she said with a smirk. “But I guess looks don’t matter in the end. He’s mine now, isn’t he?” I squeezed my spoon, stirring my latte so hard the foam art dissolved, fighting the primal urge to throw the scalding coffee in her face. I took a deep breath. “You’re a woman. A mother, even,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Aren’t you afraid that one day, people will point fingers at your son because of what you’ve done?” She burst out laughing, as if I’d just told the world’s funniest joke. “Let me be honest with you,” she said, leaning forward. “My ex-husband left me for someone else, too. I was just like you back then—confused, devastated, I made a huge scene. But then I met James. And I finally understood. When love hits you, you just… you don’t care about anything else.” Her shamelessness was so profound it was almost comical. I nearly laughed myself. After a moment, I stared directly into her eyes. “He hasn’t actually agreed to divorce me, has he?” The smug satisfaction on Serena’s face instantly froze. I knew I was right. “James isn’t an idiot,” I said, letting out a dismissive scoff. “You really think he’d leave a wife like me… for you?” “Do you have any idea what kind of people he works with, the circles he moves in? If he actually divorced me and married you, what could you possibly bring him besides utter embarrassment?” My words hit their mark. Serena shot to her feet, her expression twisting into a mask of fury. “What are you so proud of? So what if you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth? You still couldn’t even keep your own man!” she shrieked. “I bet if we both messaged him right now, he would choose me without a second thought!” I raised an eyebrow, took out my phone right in front of her, and sent James a text. [Honey, my stomach hurts really bad. Can you take me to the hospital?] Serena, desperate to prove her point, did the same, her voice in the audio message dripping with a sickening sweetness that made my stomach turn. “James, honey, I’m not feeling so well. Do you think you were a little too rough last night? I’m worried about the baby.” Five minutes later, both our phones buzzed. James had replied. His text to me read: [I’m in a meeting. Go to the hospital yourself.] His reply to her was a voice message. His tone was laced with pure panic. “Where are you? I’m on my way. Don’t move.” As the message finished playing, a triumphant grin spread across Serena’s face. “You lose. Now get out.” “So what? As long as he doesn’t divorce me, you’ll always be the dirty little secret, the other woman who can never be seen in the light of day!” I snatched my purse, my whole body radiating a fury that looked completely genuine, as if I had been pushed past my breaking point. I stormed out of the café under her gloating gaze. James arrived faster than I expected. The second he saw Serena, he rushed to her, grabbing her hand, ready to whisk her away. She whispered something in his ear. I saw the tension visibly drain from his body. He smiled, then reached out and gave her nose an affectionate tap. Hiding just outside the café, I bit the inside of my cheek, hard, fighting back a wave of nausea. My hand, holding my phone up to record, was steadier than I could have ever imagined. That night, James came home as usual. He saw me sitting on the sofa, watching TV, and paused for a moment. Then, he came over and sat beside me. His voice was casual, but I could hear the subtle note of probing beneath it. “Honey, I’m sorry. I was just so stressed from work yesterday, I said some things I didn’t mean.” “Are you okay? Did you end up going to the hospital?” A faint, cloying scent of perfume clung to him. The same one Serena had been wearing. It was suffocating. I feigned indifference, pushing him away slightly. “Move. You’re blocking the TV.” He visibly relaxed. He murmured an obedient “okay” and disappeared into the bathroom. The moment the door clicked shut, I turned my gaze away from the screen. A second later, I was hunched over the trash can, vomiting my guts out. Later that night, in bed, James slid closer, his hand creeping onto my waist. “It’s been a while…” “It’s late. I’m tired. Let’s just sleep.” I shifted away, putting a deliberate distance between us. I felt his body go rigid. “My mom wants me to come over for dinner tomorrow,” I added. “So I won’t be home.” Tomorrow was Saturday, James’s day off. His routine was to go to the badminton club first thing in the morning. I used to think it was a sign of his self-discipline. Now I knew it was just an excuse to rush off to a date with his mistress. James didn’t question it. He just told me he understood and then, with nauseating hypocrisy, asked me to come home early because he would miss me. Soon, his breathing evened out into a steady rhythm. I picked up my phone and opened my chat with Serena. [Seems like you can’t satisfy him either. He was all over me just now, like a hungry wolf.] [I heard women get loose after having a baby. Is that true for you?] Then, I muted her notifications and put my phone away. The next morning, I made a show of leaving in front of James, even reminding him to pick me up from my parents’ place that evening. He agreed readily, even walking me to the door. Not twenty minutes after I left, I saw James’s car pull out of our apartment complex. Just as I’d predicted. He was going to meet Serena. Even from a distance, I could see their two bodies tangled together in the front seat. They were kissing in the car, right out in the open, for a good ten minutes. This time they didn’t go to the badminton club. They drove straight to the nearest hotel. I don’t know what Serena did, but James was practically sprinting out of the car, his every step screaming impatience. I forced myself to breathe, to quell the frantic pounding of my heart, and kept the camera rolling. I watched until they disappeared through the hotel’s revolving doors. Then, I made three phone calls. The first was to James’s parents, who cared about their reputation more than anything in the world. The second was to his direct supervisor, the man in charge of his next promotion. For the third, I took a deep, steadying breath and dialed the three numbers. “Hello, 911?” “I’d like to report solicitation at the Haven Hotel. The man’s name is…” “James. Knight.”

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Everyone knew I’d do anything for Alexander Pierce, the golden boy of Manhattan. I was his shadow, his doormat. So much so that while he was dropping a fortune on his personal secretary at a high-end auction, I was on my knees giving that same secretary a foot massage. Halfway through the massage, a line of glowing text suddenly materialized in my vision, like a comment on a live stream. [Here we go. It’s time for the heroine’s brother to need his medical bills paid. But she needs the secretary’s approval to get the money, and the secretary will refuse. The heroine will have to go sell drinks at a club to make cash!] [Just wait. When the male lead finds out, he’s going to call her a pathetic, gold-digging tramp again.] [Ugh, I know this is standard for a tragic novel, but the heroine’s life is just brutal. Later on, she even has to give the secretary one of her kidneys, her brother still dies, and the male lead gives her parents’ company to the secretary as a birthday gift.] My hands froze. So, I’m the tragic heroine in some twisted novel? I became your lapdog so you would save my family, and you turn around and annihilate them instead? To hell with this. I’m done. 1 Looking at Scarlett Monroe’s smug, entitled face as she luxuriated in my service, I could no longer suppress the rage simmering in my chest. I stood up, my voice cold. “The request I submitted for my brother’s medical expenses. Can you approve it now?” Scarlett’s brow furrowed in annoyance, her tone dripping with contempt. “What’s the rush? We’ll talk after the auction. Mr. Pierce said he’s buying me anything I want today.” She paused, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. “Besides, your brother is basically a vegetable. What’s the difference between that and being dead? Lying in a hospital bed is a waste of money and resources. Why are you in such a hurry to pay? A few more days won’t change anything.” “What did you say?” All the blood rushed to my head, a roaring sound filling my ears. CRACK! Before Scarlett could react, I swung my hand and delivered a sharp, ringing slap across her face. “Isabella… you dare hit me?” Scarlett stammered, clutching her cheek in disbelief. Just then, the door to the private lounge swung open and Alexander Pierce walked in. Scarlett immediately threw herself into his arms, pointing an accusing finger at me. “Alex! Isabella hit me for no reason! Look at my face, it’s already swelling up!” Alexander’s voice was ice. “Isabella. Who gave you the nerve to touch my people?” I rolled my eyes. “I asked your precious secretary to approve my brother’s medical fees. Not only did she deliberately stall, but she also wished him dead. Is there a problem with me hitting her for that?” Huddled in Alexander’s arms, Scarlett’s voice was fragile and innocent. “Mr. Pierce, her application form wasn’t filled out correctly. I just asked her to redo it, and she attacked me!” Alexander’s face darkened, his tone becoming a harsh command. “Isabella, Scarlett manages my finances. I told you all expenses have to be approved by her. You’re the one who didn’t follow procedure. Apologize to Scarlett. Now.” I straightened my spine. “I did nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?” [WHOA! The heroine is finally fighting back! She’s not taking it anymore!] [YES! It’s about time! Why should she have to endure this crap?] [Sigh, it’s no use. This is a tragic novel. As the heroine, if she resists now, she’ll just suffer more. The male lead will only hate her more.] I scoffed internally, a surge of defiance rushing through me. Bullshit. My fate is my own. This is my body, my life. Am I not allowed to make my own decisions? Tragic novel plot? Predestined misery? I refuse. I’ll rewrite my own damn story and make every single person who hurt my family pay. The moment that silent roar echoed in my mind, a crisp, mechanical sound chimed. [Ding! Congratulations, Host! Awakening successful!] [System Mission: Max out the target Alexander Pierce’s ‘Regret Value.’ Upon completion, the Host will gain absolute freedom and the reward of her brother, Liam, awakening!] Before I could even process the joy, my phone began to ring urgently. It was the hospital. A glint appeared in my eye. This was it. My chance. I immediately put the call on speaker. “Ms. Rossi, this is my final call to inform you that the deadline for your brother’s medical bill payment has passed. The hospital has been more than patient. As per our policy, we will be forced to cease all medication and disconnect all life-sustaining equipment. Please come to the hospital to collect your brother as soon as possible.” The color drained from Alexander’s face. And I, well, I had been waiting for this exact moment. “Doctor, please, I’m begging you, just a few more days…” Then, I closed my eyes and let my body go limp, collapsing to the floor. The second before I lost consciousness, the system’s voice chimed in my head: [Ding! Target’s Regret Value +10%! Current Value: 10%.] 2 Perfect. Step one, a success. I was held securely in someone’s arms. I could hear Alexander’s voice, sharp with an urgency and a thread of panic I’d never heard before. “Isabella! Isabella!” [WHOA?! What’s happening? The ice-cold male lead sounds like he’s about to cry!] [Wait, you guys! I think she faked it! I swear I saw the corner of her mouth twitch into a smile for a second!] [Damn! A strategic retreat? Beating the damsel in distress at her own game? She stole Scarlett’s signature move!] The comments in my mind exploded with shock and awe. Alexander quickly carried me out of there. Back at his penthouse, I waited a while before slowly fluttering my eyes open. The first thing I did was struggle to get out of bed, my voice a frantic, panicked mess. “My brother… I have to get to the hospital… I have to save Liam…” Alexander pressed me back down, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Don’t move. Just rest. I’ve already had someone pay all of his outstanding bills. Your brother will be fine.” Just then, Scarlett ran in, her eyes red and puffy. She dropped to her knees by the bed, apologizing profusely. “Ms. Rossi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hold up your approval. I didn’t know today was the final deadline. I’m so, so sorry.” Alexander looked at the kneeling Scarlett, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “Get up, Scarlett. It’s not your fault.” Then he turned to me, his tone placating. “She didn’t do it on purpose. Your brother is fine now, so let’s just drop it.” I sneered internally but kept my face placid, nodding meekly. “I know. I don’t blame the secretary.” My compliance seemed to catch Alexander off guard. Then, his eyes fell on the dark bruises on my knees, a souvenir from the long hours I’d spent kneeling to massage Scarlett. [Ding! Target’s Regret Value +5%! Current Value: 15%.] A barely perceptible smile touched my lips. Over the next few days, I was more docile than ever before. Whatever Alexander asked, I did, without complaint or resistance. He showered me with expensive clothes, jewelry, and designer bags, and I accepted them all with a quiet grace, neither overly excited nor unimpressed. When he took me to social events, I was the perfect companion: poised, gentle, and never speaking out of turn. The desperate, fawning girl was gone, replaced by a woman with a calm and composed demeanor. The jealousy and hatred in Scarlett’s eyes became almost impossible for her to conceal. I watched her from the sidelines, knowing the time was almost right. The fish was about to take the bait. Sure enough, one evening, Scarlett approached me, her smile carefully manufactured. “Isabella, Mr. Pierce is at a bar downtown. He’s in a bad mood and has been drinking. He wants you to go pick him up.” I put on a look of flattered surprise and nodded eagerly. “Okay, I’ll go right away.” The bar was dimly lit and deafeningly loud, thick with the smell of smoke and stale liquor. I found the private room Scarlett had mentioned and pushed the door open. The moment I stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me, the sound of a lock clicking into place echoing from the other side. [Oh no! She walked right into it! This is Scarlett’s trap!] [It’s over, Scarlett totally set her up to frame her!] [The male lead is on his way. When he sees her in a place like this, he’s going to assume she’s cheating or being promiscuous!] [Is this where the tragedy kicks in? She’s going to be wrongly accused again!] The comments in my head went into a frenzy of anxiety and worry. But I stood there, perfectly calm, even managing a cold smile. Scarlett thought she could frame me with a trick this pathetic? How naive. I calmly took out my phone and dialed a number I had saved long ago. I spoke a few quiet words, then hung up and waited. An hour later. BANG! The door was kicked open with brutal force. Alexander stormed in, his face a thundercloud. His eyes swept the room, and when he saw I was alone, a flicker of relief crossed his face. But when he noticed I was clearly tipsy, his expression hardened again. He strode over, scooped me into his arms, and carried me out, unceremoniously dumping me in the back of his car. Before I could react, he leaned over me, one hand closing around my throat. The pressure wasn’t enough to choke, but the threat was unmistakable. “Isabella, are you that pathetic? So desperate for money, so starved for attention? Isn’t latching onto me enough for you? You have to come to a place like this and whore yourself out? You disgust me!” From the passenger seat, a triumphant smile flashed across Scarlett’s face before she quickly replaced it with a look of guilt and remorse. “Alex, please don’t be angry. It’s all my fault. Isabella begged me, she said she just wanted a night out with friends, and I felt bad for her, so I said yes.” “I had no idea she would come to a place like this… It’s my fault. I should have kept a better eye on her.” Trying to pin the blame on me? Nice try, Scarlett. But this time, you seriously miscalculated. 3 I pulled a gold-leafed business card from my pocket and held it up to Alexander, my voice choked with sobs. “I’m sorry, Alex, I was wrong. I wasn’t… I wasn’t doing anything bad…” “I know you’ve been stressed about finding a celebrity spokesperson for the company’s new product line. You wanted that big star, but his team is impossible to get a meeting with.” “I heard his agent was here tonight, so I came to buy him a drink, to try and talk to him about a partnership.” “This is his card. He said he’s willing to learn more about our products.” “I messed up. I shouldn’t have hidden it from you, I shouldn’t have come here. I’m so sorry, please don’t be angry…” Alexander froze. The hand on my neck slowly loosened. The rage on his face hardened, cracking into an expression of utter disbelief. He looked down at the business card in my hand. Embossed on it was the name of the top agent in the country, the very man he had been trying and failing to get in touch with for weeks. He was stunned, his eyes a complex mix of emotions as he stared at me. His voice, when he finally spoke, was soft with disbelief. “You came here… to help me with a business deal?” I nodded furiously, tears finally spilling over and splashing onto the back of his hand, warm and full of unspoken pain. “Yes… I know I’m not smart, I can’t help you with big things, but I just wanted to do something, anything, to share your burden.” “I told Scarlett I was meeting friends because I was afraid I’d fail and disappoint you. That’s why I didn’t tell you beforehand. I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.” [Ding! Target’s Regret Value +25%! Current Value: 40%.] In the front seat, the color drained from Scarlett’s face. She was trembling with fury but couldn’t utter a single word in her defense. Her carefully laid trap had not only failed to ensnare me, but it had also backfired spectacularly, making Alexander feel even more guilty and protective of me. [HOLY! What a plot twist! That was absolutely masterful!] [The damsel-in-distress heroine just evolved into a black-hearted mastermind! She’s a hundred levels above Scarlett!] [LMAO! Scarlett’s face is literally green! She tried to set a trap and ended up helping her enemy!] [This heroine is a genius! Her brain, her strategy… who could possibly outplay her?] The comments were a chorus of cheers. I hid a cold smirk, my face still a mask of fragile vulnerability. Alexander looked at my tear-reddened eyes, his heart clenching with regret. His voice softened, his attempt at comfort clumsy. “I misunderstood you. I’m sorry.” In the following weeks, Alexander treated me better than ever before. Perhaps it was guilt, or perhaps it was because I had actually managed to secure the celebrity endorsement, solving a massive problem for his company. He showered me with gifts—jewelry, luxury cars, limited-edition handbags. If I so much as glanced at something, it would be delivered to me within the hour. I accepted everything without protest and without fawning over him. I maintained a careful distance—gentle, understanding, and never demanding—which only made him more captivated. Meanwhile, Scarlett watched his growing affection for me, her jealousy festering into a madness that deepened the scheming in her eyes. She couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t accept that the prize she had held so securely in her grasp was being stolen away by his former doormat. A few days later, Alexander had to fly out of state for an urgent business matter. The moment he was gone, Scarlett showed up at the villa where I was staying. She cornered me at the top of the grand staircase. There were no servants around. Just the two of us. I saw the malice in her eyes and knew what was coming. Sure enough, the next second, Scarlett lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. Then, she threw herself backward, tumbling dramatically down the entire flight of stairs. “AHHH!”

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Five years after I got out of prison, I saw him again. Nicholas Kim. His eyes fell on the empty leg of my trousers, and his voice trembled. “Ava… your… your leg…” He probably never imagined that the ballet champion who had once become an overnight sensation now needed a crutch just to walk. “If you were out, why didn’t you come find me? Do you have any idea how worried I was…?” His fiancée, my former best friend, nestled against his chest, her eyes red. “Ava, you were so thoughtless. Back then, to make it up to you, Nicholas arranged for all the city’s media to be there. He was going to propose to you in front of everyone, but you just vanished without a word, humiliating him completely.” “I only married him to protect what little dignity he had left…” Had to? I couldn’t help but let out a soft, humorless laugh. I glanced at her swollen belly. “So I suppose you had to let him knock you up, too?” “And I suppose you had to toy with Sebastian Kim’s affections back then?” “And you and Nicholas had to conspire to have my face altered and send me to that monster’s bed?!” 1 The autumn wind was cold, cutting straight through my thin, worn-out coat. Nicholas’s brow was furrowed, a storm of emotions in his eyes—frustration, surprise—but not a single flicker of guilt. When I was done, he let out a sigh, his tone dripping with condescension. “Alright, what’s past is past. Since you’re okay, just come home with me.” He gestured to the stretch limousine parked at the curb, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Get in the car.” I didn’t move. I just kept quietly wiping the grease from the diner tabletop. In the five years since my release, this was the only place that had been willing to take me in, to give me a job and a meal. But in Nicholas’s eyes, my silence was defiance. “Ava, how long are you going to keep this up?” He took two steps closer, towering over me. “Look at you, this pathetic state you’re in. How is this worthy of the name Mrs. Kim?” “Are you going to get in the car yourself, or do I have to have my bodyguards escort you?” Before I could answer, two men in black suits had their hands on my shoulders. I didn’t struggle. I simply gave the diner owner a deep bow, then turned and got into the car. The heat was blasting inside, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne. “This is a supplementary card with no credit limit. The PIN is your birthday.” He tossed a black card onto the seat in front of me, as if tossing a coin to a beggar. “And I’ve arranged for an apartment for you downtown. It’s fully furnished, you can move in right away.” He expected me to be grateful. All I felt was disgust. I reached out with my trembling hand—a permanent tremor left after my bones were shattered in prison—picked up the card, snapped it in half right in front of him, and tossed the pieces out the window. Nicholas’s face froze, the cracks appearing in his mask of superiority. “I can’t accept these. I don’t want them.” The anticipation in his eyes instantly morphed into rage. “Ava, don’t be ungrateful!” “You were locked up for three years. You’re completely out of touch with the world. Who else would want you besides me?” The car drove through our old university campus. Chloe, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up. “Ava, do you remember? Sophomore year, you said you wanted to have your own little light in this city someday.” “Now that Nicky has given you a whole apartment, what more could you possibly want?” Want? I stared out the window, my mind flashing back to a winter’s day in my second year of prison. In the communal showers, a group of inmates held my head under the icy water, my scalp screaming in pain as they yanked my hair. They forced me to watch the “wedding of the century” on a small, flickering television. Chloe, in a million-dollar gown, nestled in his arms. He looked down at her with a doting smile, telling the world she was the one true love of his life. And I was choking on dirty water, enduring the humiliation and torture. Because Sebastian Kim had paid off the guards to make sure I “shared in their joy” on their big day. The car stopped in front of a modern villa. Their love nest. Nicholas pulled me out of the car, gesturing towards the walk-in closet in the entryway, filled to the brim with couture. “These were all custom-made to your size. I had them ready for you before you were even released.” I stood at the doorway, refusing to go in. The house was filled with the overwhelming scent of gardenias, Chloe’s favorite. It was cloying, nauseating. “I’m leaving.” The moment I turned, he grabbed my wrist, his grip like steel. Nicholas suddenly lost control, his eyes red with fury. “Ava! I haven’t even held it against you for humiliating me by leaving like that! What more do you want?” “I’ve never bowed my head to anyone in my life! Do I have to get on my knees and beg for you to forgive me?” I looked at him, slowly prying his fingers from my wrist, and took a cold step back. “Stop acting, Nicholas.” “You only did all that because your company was about to go public. You wanted to create a ‘devoted husband’ persona for yourself.” “Don’t wrap your selfishness and calculation in a pretty bow and call it love.” “It’s disgusting.” Nicholas froze, his expression shifting from shock to pure rage. He pointed a trembling finger at me, his voice hoarse. “Get out! Ava, get the hell out!” “And when you’re starving on the streets, don’t you dare come crawling back to me like a dog!” I didn’t look back. I just walked into the darkness. Behind me, I heard the sound of a vase shattering, and his hysterical, furious roars. 2 That night, I was homeless. With only a few hundred dollars in my pocket, I found a seedy motel in a run-down part of the city. Fifty bucks a night. Lying on the yellowed sheets, I looked at my reflection in the cracked mirror—hollow cheeks, a face etched with a weariness far beyond my years. I was thirty, but I looked like an old woman. The former beauty of the university’s finance department, now just a crippled ex-con. I gave a bitter laugh and pulled the thin blanket over my head. The next morning, the diner owner called. “Ava, honey… you don’t need to come in tomorrow.” “Why?” I shot up in bed. The owner sighed. “Someone put the word out. As long as you’re working on this street, none of us will pass our next fire inspection.” “Don’t make this hard for me, kid. I’ve got a family to feed.” He hung up. I gripped the phone, my knuckles white. Nicholas. No one else had that kind of power, and no one else was that petty. I didn’t go begging to him. Instead, I spent the entire day at employment agencies and job fairs. The result was exactly what I expected. The moment they ran my ID, the friendly smiles would vanish. “Sorry, we don’t hire people with a criminal record.” “Kim Industries has made it very clear. Please don’t put us in a difficult position.” By sunset, I was sitting on a park bench, gnawing on the last half of a stale bread roll. A red Ferrari pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing Chloe’s face, hidden behind oversized sunglasses. She looked at me, a sarcastic smirk on her lips. “Hungry?” “Pride doesn’t fill your stomach, does it?” “Oh, Ava. Just be a good little dog for me, and I can make sure you get a meal. Otherwise…” I stared at her, my stomach twisting into a knot. Not from hunger. From rage. But I needed money. I needed to survive. “Fine.” Chloe smiled. “See? That wasn’t so hard. You were born to be on a leash.” She took me to a charity gala. No gown, no time to clean up. I stood among the city’s elite in my cheap, dusty coat, a ghost at the feast. Nicholas was there, laughing and talking with a group of investors. Chloe led me to stand behind them. “Well, well, if it isn’t the former finance department flower.” “I heard she took the fall for her ex-boyfriend and did three years?” “Still trailing after Mr. Kim, I see. Such a loyal pet.” The air was thick with whispers and mocking laughter. I looked at Nicholas. He knew the whole truth. I waited, hoping he would say something, anything, to stop them. He didn’t. He was too busy schmoozing with those investors over a multi-million dollar real estate deal. He just shot me a look, a silent command to endure it. One of the men, drunk, staggered over and wrapped an arm around my waist, his hand roaming freely. “Nicky, is this your new little bitch? She’s a bit old, but not bad to look at. Got a certain… flavor.” “How about you let me have a taste tonight? I’ll make it worth your while.” The whole room erupted in laughter. Nicholas took a sip of his wine, his voice casual. “If you like her, Mr. Zhang, you can have her kneel and lick your shoes.” Looking at the man who had once worshipped the ground I walked on, I felt nothing but a bone-deep chill. I turned, took the glass of red wine from Mr. Zhang’s hand, and smiled. “Mr. Zhang, is this wine any good?” He blinked, confused. “What?” SPLASH! A full glass of red wine drenched his greasy, leering face. The room fell silent. Mr. Zhang yelped, stumbling back and clutching his eyes. CRACK! A sharp, stinging slap landed on my cheek. Nicholas’s chest was heaving with fury. “Ava! Are you insane?!” “Do you have any idea how much that deal was worth?!” I tasted blood in my mouth. That slap shattered a decade of devotion, a final, brutal awakening. I wiped a smear of blood from the corner of my mouth and looked at the apoplectic Nicholas, my smile more painful than any tears. “Well, Mr. Kim. It’s a good thing that deal is dead.” 3 With that, I turned and walked away. A storm had broken out, the rain hammering down, each drop a tiny needle against my skin. The old injury in my leg flared up. It had been broken with a steel pipe in prison. Even with the amputation, the phantom pain lingered. On rainy days like this, it felt like a million ants gnawing at my bones. I dragged my broken body back to the motel and collapsed onto the bed, a high fever quickly taking hold. Curled up in the musty blankets, my consciousness fading, I thought I was going to die in this forgotten corner of the world. My phone rang. It was Nicholas. “Ava, stop playing dead.” His voice was a mixture of anxiety and impatience. “Get to the villa now. Chloe’s kitten, Snowball, is missing.” “You were always good at finding things. Get your ass over here and help her look for it!” My throat was raw from the fever, my voice a hoarse whisper. “I have a fever. I can’t move.” A cold laugh on the other end of the line. “A fever? Since when did you become so delicate?” “You used to run halfway across the city with a 104-degree fever just to bring me a late-night snack.” “And now you can’t even find a cat? Is it not enough money?” “You have thirty minutes. If you’re not here, I’ll have someone dig up your parents’ graves and scatter their ashes in the sewer!” He hung up. I clutched the hot phone, my eyes dry. He knew my weaknesses too well. I dragged myself out of bed, swallowed two fever reducers, and stumbled out into the torrential rain. By the time I reached the villa, I was soaked to the bone, my face as white as a sheet. Chloe stood in the living room, wrapped in a cashmere blanket. She looked at me with disgust. “What took you so long? What’s that smell? Stay away from me.” She pointed to the second-floor terrace. “The maids heard something on the roof. It’s too slippery for them to go up. You go check.” It was a sloped, glass-tiled roof, slick with rain. It was impossible to stand on. “My leg hurts. I can’t go up there.” Chloe sneered. “Ava, if my kitten gets sick from the rain, not even ten of your miserable lives would be enough to pay for it.” “Go.” I gritted my teeth and climbed the ladder. The terrace was empty. There was no cat. As I turned to go back, a glass tile under my foot came loose. I fell, hard, onto the concrete below. A rusty nail, sticking out of a wooden plank, pierced straight through the stump of my amputated leg. The sound brought them running. Nicholas and Chloe rushed up to the terrace and immediately spotted the Persian kitten cowering in a corner. “Snowball!” Chloe cried, scooping the cat into her arms. Nicholas beamed with relief. It was a long moment before they even noticed me, lying in a pool of my own blood. No panic. No concern. Only annoyance. “You can’t even do one simple thing right. Now you’ve made a mess of the terrace.” “What if you scared Chloe?” He waved a dismissive hand at the family doctor who had been summoned. “Just patch her up. As long as she doesn’t die here.” The searing pain brought a horrifying clarity. I looked at the man I had loved my entire youth, and the last flicker of light in my eyes died. I pushed the doctor away, propped myself up on my hands, and gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand. Blood dripped from my trouser leg. I bent down and gripped the nail embedded in my flesh. Squelch! I pulled it out myself. Blood sprayed, splattering onto the hem of Chloe’s expensive white silk skirt. She shrieked, stumbling back, the kitten in her arms hissing in alarm. “This skirt was custom-made! Do you have any idea how much it costs to replace it?!” Nicholas’s face was cold. “Apologize!” My body was trembling with pain, but I started to laugh. I reached my blood-soaked hand into my pocket and pulled out a small jade pendant, its surface worn smooth with time. Ten years ago, he had climbed a sacred mountain on his knees, his skin raw and bleeding, to get this for me. A charm for my safety. He had promised me then that he would give me the world. Later, when he became a tycoon, he threw it in a storage unit. I was the one who found it, who cherished it all these years. It was a testament to my love, and to my foolishness. “You’re right, Chloe.” “I can’t afford your skirt. Just like I can’t afford to get back the ten years I wasted.” I held up the jade pendant and smashed it on the ground. Crack! The jade shattered into a dozen pieces. Nicholas stared, a flicker of genuine panic in his eyes for the first time. “What are you doing?” “That was our promise! How could you?!” “A promise?” I shook my head, my smile a tragic mask. “These ten years… just consider me a joke.” He dropped to his knees in the mud and rain, frantically trying to piece the fragments back together. But some things, once broken, can never be made whole again. I pointed to my bleeding leg, my voice unnervingly calm. “This leg… I lost it in prison. For you.” “From now on, we’re even.” With that, I turned away, not giving them another glance. I dragged my mangled, bleeding leg down the stairs, one step at a time. Behind me, Nicholas roared like a caged animal. “If you walk out that door today, don’t you ever come back!” “I’ll blacklist you from every industry in this city! You won’t even be able to beg for scraps!” “Come back! Get on your knees and apologize!” I didn’t turn back. I didn’t stop. The rain was still falling, but I no longer felt the cold. The moment I stepped out of the villa gates, I took a deep breath. This time, there was no lingering affection, only release. Goodbye, Nicholas. Goodbye forever.

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To save money, I bought a used tablet online. The seller I met for the in-person exchange was a pretty young college student. “Ma’am, this is the latest model. If my boyfriend hadn’t just bought me a huge high-rise apartment as our marital home and built me a custom media room, I would never dream of selling it!” Seeing the pure happiness radiating from her face, I couldn’t help but think of Liam. Once his company’s big project finally launched, we could move out of our tiny rental and buy a place of our own. “He also said no old things in the new house, so I have a lot more stuff to get rid of. You can follow my account and contact me if you see anything you need.” “Oh, my boyfriend’s here!” The girl, Jenna, waved her arm excitedly. I turned to look. A black Maybach was pulling up to the curb. The window rolled down, revealing a familiar face. Our eyes met, and we both froze. The man in the driver’s seat was none other than my boyfriend, Liam. 1 “I’m interning nearby, and he insists on driving me to and from work every day. He’s so worried something might happen to me.” “I told him he’s overreacting, what could possibly happen to me on my regular commute? But he just won’t listen.” I stood there, listening to Jenna’s gleeful chatter, a chilling numbness spreading through my body. A flash of panic crossed Liam’s face, quickly replaced by a look that was both a warning and a threat. His gaze fell to the tablet in my hands. “It’s just a tablet. Why didn’t you buy a new one?” Right. It was just a tablet. But I couldn’t bring myself to buy a new one, because I was trying to save every penny so we could have a home together sooner. Jenna shot me an apologetic look and playfully tapped Liam on the shoulder. “Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean everyone is.” “Besides, my tablet is practically new. If you hadn’t insisted on buying me a better one, I wouldn’t be selling it.” She turned back to me. “Don’t mind him. My boyfriend only ever buys new things. If he doesn’t want something anymore, he just throws it out. He doesn’t understand the secondhand market at all.” “I was going to rent a place near my internship, but he said he didn’t like the idea of me living in a pre-owned apartment, so the very next day, he bought me a new one!” “And now he won’t let me use any of my old stuff. My clothes and shoes have to be from the latest season, and my electronics have to be the newest models. He even got on my case for selling this tablet, said I don’t know how to save money.” Jenna gave Liam a mock-reproachful look. Her words were a complaint, but her face was aglow with happiness. But I remembered. I remembered when Liam and I were crammed into our tiny rental. To save money, all the furniture and appliances I bought were used. I remembered haggling shamelessly with sellers just to save a few dozen dollars. I had felt so embarrassed, but those few dozen dollars meant I could add a pork chop to Liam’s lunchbox. Back then, he would hold me, his eyes full of pain and guilt. “Chloe,” he’d said, “one day, when I make it, I promise I’ll get you the best house.” But eight years had passed, and I was still living in a rental, still using secondhand things. And he, without my knowledge, had bought another woman a brand-new home. Jenna’s words were like a gaping hole torn open in my chest. A cold wind blew through, freezing me to the bone. Liam glanced at me and cleared his throat. “Let’s get going. Don’t we still have to buy new furniture?” Jenna paused, then stamped her foot playfully. “Oh, right! I almost forgot. If you need anything else used, just let me know!” As Jenna walked around to the passenger side, Liam took the opportunity to lean in and whisper to me, “I’ll explain when I get home tonight.” The Maybach sped away, leaving me in a cloud of dust. I could just make out their conversation through the open window. “So what are we buying?” “Whatever you want. Only the best is good enough for my little princess.” I looked down at the tablet in my hands and suddenly felt like a complete joke. So, in Liam’s eyes, I was the one who only deserved used things. I walked home like a zombie, not even noticing when it started to rain. It was an old, run-down building, with terrible security. Not long ago, I’d been harassed by a man on my way home from working late. I was so terrified that day that every late night at the office since had been filled with dread. But I never moved. Because this place was close to Liam’s office. It meant he could sleep in for an extra hour, even if it meant I had to commute for two. But while I was living in fear, he was playing chauffeur for someone else. I sat on the sofa for hours, and then I turned on the tablet. The moment the screen lit up, I froze. 2 Jenna was still logged into her social media. The screen was on her latest post. It was a selfie of her lying in bed. Beside her, half of Liam’s face was visible. The caption read: [Found the perfect mattress! So expensive, but hubby’s paying! He says I deserve the best. Thanks, honey!] I scrolled down, torturing myself with post after post. Candlelit dinners, morning runs, vacations together… The one that stung the most was a travel vlog. It was from Lover’s Isle, a place I had told Liam I dreamed of visiting. Last year, he had asked if I wanted to go, but I’d calculated the cost and said no. He had just told me the day before that the company’s profits were down. The vlog was filmed during that exact time. The place of my dreams… he had taken someone else there. A surge of pure rage welled up from the pit of my stomach. I grabbed my phone and dialed his number. Again and again, he declined the call. My damp clothes were chilling me to the bone. I curled up on the sofa, a sharp, stabbing pain in my heart. In the middle of the night, I woke up burning with a fever. Through a hazy fog, I saw him walk in. He frowned at me, draping his coat over my shivering body. “Why are you sleeping out here? You know your immune system is weak. Are you trying to get sick?” I ripped the coat off and stared at him, my eyes burning. “It’s not what you think. Jenna is my mom’s friend’s daughter. My family asked me to take care of her.” I let out a hoarse laugh. “Take care of her? How? In bed? Or in a river-view penthouse?” His face flushed with the anger of being caught. “Don’t be ridiculous. Jenna is innocent and naive, she’s just starting out. The world is a complicated place, of course I have to look out for her.” “And what about me? Don’t I need to be looked out for?” He stared at me, a look of genuine confusion in his eyes. “You’ve been working for years. What do you need looking out for?” There was a time when all I had was a bad cramp, and he would risk getting reprimanded to bang on the dorm supervisor’s window in the middle of the night just to bring me medicine. And now, he said I didn’t need looking out for. Jenna was a recent graduate who needed care. What was I doing when I had just graduated? I was with him, meeting with clients, being forced to drink until I was sick. And because I didn’t want to jeopardize his project, I suffered in silence and never told him. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I shoved him, hard. “Liam, in your eyes, do I just not need anything? Do you have any idea…” He grabbed my hand, his voice laced with impatience. “Will you just stop? Why are you picking a fight with a kid who just graduated?” His words sent a wracking cough through my body. He reached out and touched my forehead, and his expression darkened. “You’re burning up, don’t you know that?” He swept me into his arms and rushed me to the hospital. I drifted off into a feverish sleep. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed with an IV in my arm. Liam was sitting by my side. The scene was so painfully familiar, a ghost of our past, and my eyes began to sting. He met my gaze and was about to speak when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and stepped out into the hallway to answer. A tearful voice drifted in. “Liam, I was putting a doll away in the closet, and I cut my hand. I’m so scared!” “How did you do that? Don’t be scared, I’m on my way.” He took two steps, then remembered I was still lying in bed. “Jenna cut her hand. I’m going to go check on her. You… just get some sleep. I’ll come back to see you later.” I watched his back disappear through the doorway, and the tears I’d been holding back soaked into my pillow. In that moment, I understood just how thoroughly I had lost. Later, I was jolted awake by a terrifying feeling of suffocation. I couldn’t reach the call button. I fumbled for my phone and dialed Liam. It rang a few times before he picked up. “Help… me…” Liam’s voice was annoyed. “It’s just a cold, what could possibly be wrong? Jenna cut her hand, I have to take her to get a shot. Stop making a scene!” The line went dead. As the dial tone droned on, I lost consciousness. 3 When I opened my eyes, a wave of soreness and a lingering sense of breathlessness washed over me. A doctor was standing by my bed, a complicated look in his eyes. “Ms. Noth, you had an allergic reaction to the medication in the middle of the night, which caused you to stop breathing. We were lucky we got to you in time.” “But we confirmed with the man who brought you in. He said you didn’t have any allergies, so we administered the drug. This is no joking matter, you could have died!” My fists clenched, a dull ache spreading through my chest. Liam. He didn’t even remember my allergies anymore. My phone screen lit up. I answered, and Jenna’s sharp voice cut through the line. “Why is your number in his phone? You already knew him, didn’t you? You bought my tablet just to provoke me!” “I knew his clothes smelled like someone else. It was you, you were seducing him! You shameless homewrecker, I’m going to expose you!” The words ‘homewrecker’ pierced me like a knife. “Liam and I have been together for eight years. Who do you think the homewrecker is?” The line went silent for a few seconds, then she hung up. Twenty minutes later, she called back. But this time, it was Liam. “Chloe! Why did you call and deliberately upset Jenna? She’s young and fragile, she doesn’t handle things well. Are you trying to drive her to suicide?!” “Jenna is threatening to kill herself right now. You need to get over here and apologize to her!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Liam, she’s the one who called and screamed at me. And you want me to apologize to her?” His voice was hard. “Jenna is young and immature, she was just blowing off steam. You’re so much older than her, you shouldn’t hold it against her. She almost killed herself, don’t you think you bear some responsibility for that?” I started to laugh, a broken, tear-filled sound. “In your dreams, Liam,” I said, each word a shard of glass. The next day, as I was checking out of the hospital, I noticed people pointing and whispering. “That’s her, right? The other woman who deliberately bought used things to taunt the wife.” “So shameless. Is she here for an abortion? Why doesn’t God just strike her down with lightning?” A jolt of fear went through me. I ducked my head and hurried out of the hospital. Jenna had posted about me online, painting me as the villainous other woman. My phone was flooded with hateful messages. My apartment door was splattered with paint. My boss called and fired me, citing my “poor character.” But I couldn’t let them rewrite the truth. I contacted a popular online influencer, gave him the full story of my history with Liam, and asked him to help me set the record straight. The influencer posted my story, and public opinion instantly flipped. I thought I had won. But I had underestimated Liam’s cruelty. He sent me a video. It was of my younger brother, Aaron. He was on his knees, held down by several men, his eyes wide with terror. Liam’s voice on the phone was chillingly calm. “Chloe, if you don’t apologize, then I’ll have to let your brother apologize for you.” I was in disbelief. “Liam, you’re using Aaron to threaten me? Are you even human?” After our parents died, Aaron had always looked up to Liam as a brother-in-law. A few years ago, when a business rival had sent thugs after Liam, it was Aaron who had protected him, risking his own life. In the scuffle, he had accidentally killed one of the men. He’d also suffered a head injury that left him with a mild intellectual disability and was sent to a juvenile correction facility. I remembered Liam’s tears that day. “It’s all my fault. I promise, I’ll take care of you and Aaron for the rest of my life.” But now, he was using Aaron to force me to my knees. He was silent for a moment. “I can’t let Jenna die.” Maybe it was the death of my last hope, but suddenly, I felt like there was nothing left to fight for. I nodded. An apology. Fine. From now on, I only had my brother. I was still waiting to bring him home. 4 I went to Liam’s office. The receptionist swiped me through the security gate, her eyes filled with contempt. “Mr. Hayes brings Ms. Miller here all the time. Everyone in the company knows they’re a couple. I’ve heard of the wife beating the mistress, but I’ve never seen the mistress cyberbully the wife. You’ve got some nerve.” When Liam’s company was on the brink of collapse, I had used my parents’ inheritance to bail him out. He had sworn then that he would never forget my kindness. But now, everyone in this company saw me as a shameless homewrecker. The irony was suffocating. On a large screen in his office, I saw my brother, screaming in terror. I lunged at Liam, but Jenna shoved me to the ground. My hand landed on the shattered fragments of a glass that had just fallen. Pain exploded in my palm, and blood began to flow. A flicker of pity crossed Liam’s face. He reached out a hand to help me up. But Jenna started to sob. “Everyone online is calling me names. My friends, my classmates… they’re all laughing at me. I might as well be dead!” Liam’s expression immediately hardened. “Jenna’s reputation has been destroyed because of you, she almost died. It’s not too much to ask for you to apologize.” “Kneel, slap yourself a hundred times, and bow your head to the floor ten times. Record a video admitting you’re the other woman, and we’ll call it even. I promise, your brother won’t be harmed. Otherwise…” My body trembled. I clenched my bleeding fist. But no matter how much my hand hurt, it was nothing compared to the feeling of being sliced apart from the inside. I walked over to Jenna, who was holding up a phone to record, and my knees hit the marble floor with a sickening thud. “I’m sorry. I’m the other woman.” I repeated the words, over and over, as I slapped my own face. Again and again. The initial sting gave way to a dull numbness. Soon, my mouth was filled with the metallic taste of blood. On the screen, my brother couldn’t see what was happening, but he heard the sounds and began to struggle wildly. After the slaps, I began to bow, my forehead hitting the cold floor with a dull, rhythmic thud that echoed in the silent office. Liam nodded, satisfied. Just then, his assistant called him out of the room. Jenna knelt down and whispered in my ear. “Did you like the pictures on the tablet? Chloe, how dare you try to compete with me? I’m going to make you lose the most important thing in your life.” Suddenly, my brother clutched his throat, gasping for air. His asthma was acting up! I begged the men on the screen to give him his inhaler, but Jenna stopped them. “Don’t give it to him. He’s just like his sister. A great actor!” “Please, he’ll die! You’re murdering him!” My pleas were useless. I tried to run out to get Liam, but his assistant, who had just returned, pinned me to the floor. My brother lay on the ground, his body convulsing. As I screamed, his struggles grew weaker, until they stopped completely. I lay on the floor, my eyes filled with a burning hatred for Jenna. “What’s all the noise…” Liam walked back in. Jenna immediately threw herself into his arms, sobbing. “She suddenly attacked me! She said she would never apologize! In all the chaos, we didn’t even notice that her brother was having an attack…” Liam looked at the screen, his face turning to stone. “Chloe, was an apology that hard for you? Are you happy now that Aaron is dead?” “She wouldn’t give him his medicine!” I shrieked. “Jenna killed him!” Jenna put on a wounded act, which only made Liam’s gaze on me colder. “Since you refused to apologize, and now you’ve gotten Aaron killed, don’t blame me for what happens next.” After he left, I dragged my broken body to the city bridge over the river. My phone buzzed. It was a notification from the official account of Liam’s company, which I followed. They had posted a picture of a marriage certificate. Liam and Jenna’s. The influencer who had helped me had also posted a statement, claiming that the evidence I had given him was photoshopped, that I had deceived him. Public opinion had flipped again. But I didn’t care anymore. I climbed over the railing, looked down at the churning water below, and jumped. Liam. From this moment on, we are done. I didn’t see the phone I left behind on the bridge light up with an incoming call. And at that moment, as Liam was taking Jenna to the hospital, a strange, creeping unease began to settle in his heart. “Don’t worry, Ms. Miller is perfectly fine. This is just a minor scratch, it doesn’t even need to be treated.” Jenna pouted, pulling back her leg, which had a tiny scrape on it. “But it still hurts…” Liam looked at the scratch, and for some reason, he thought of Chloe, kneeling on the floor, her hands covered in blood. Chloe. That must have hurt so much. As he was leading Jenna out, they passed a doctor in the hallway. The doctor recognized him and his tone was reproachful. “Hey, it’s you. How could you not know your own girlfriend’s allergies?” “You didn’t even answer your phone that day. If we hadn’t gotten to her in time, she would have died!” Liam froze. “What did you say?”

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Stuck at a long red light, I opened my phone. A question on my feed asked: [Life, freedom, love, and money. How would you rank them?] The comments were a mess. Most ranked money first. Only one stood out: “Love will always be my number one. Without love, nothing else has any meaning.” Someone mocked them, calling them a hopeless romantic. But I silently agreed. Love should come first. After all, the love Mark gave me was always perfect. Amidst the ridicule, the original poster calmly replied: “If you were me, you would choose the same. Last year, I had acute kidney failure. He gave me one of his kidneys. And at the time, he wasn’t even my boyfriend. He was just my doctor.” My heart stopped. Last year, Mark had also donated a kidney—to a stranger. I’d been strongly against it, but he’d soothed me, saying, “Saving lives is a doctor’s duty.” My fingers went cold, trembling as I scrolled. The comment continued: “He only has one kidney now, but in that department… he’s still more than I can handle. Broad shoulders, narrow waist… he leaves me sore every single night.” A photo was attached: a man’s muscular back in a dimly lit bathroom, a faint bite mark on his left hip. I had left that mark on him at eighteen, as punishment for punching my high school crush. 1 It wasn’t until a chorus of horns honked behind me that I snapped back to reality. I was still twenty minutes from Mark’s hospital. I pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine. I went back to the post. The tide in the comment section had already turned. “What? A love story this pure still exists in the 21st century? You’ve made me believe in love again.” The original poster continued her calm narration: “His parents divorced when he was a kid, and neither of them wanted him. Even though he’s successful now, deep down, he’s still a little boy who craves love.” A sharp pain lanced through my heart. “I grew up in an orphanage, so I guess we’re kindred spirits. I can’t give him anything but love, but that’s the one thing he needs most.” “It’s enough that we can heal each other. Even if he’s already married… I don’t care. I just want to be with him, one day at a time.” A storm of question marks erupted in the comments. But she seemed oblivious, continuing on. “I’m dying. I don’t have much time left. I was afraid of hurting him, I rejected him so many times. But every time I saw how broken and sad he looked, I couldn’t bear it.” “Life is too short, and our meeting was too beautiful. I’ll take whatever time we have.” The final post. “Here’s a picture of us.” I stared at the words, the screen’s brightness searing my eyes. The loading icon spun and spun, making my eyes ache. My finger hovered over the screen, unable to tap. The truth was a hand, squeezing the air from my lungs. A soft thump. I jerked back to the present. In my rearview mirror, a girl’s electric scooter was lying on its side behind my car. She was scrambling to pick it up. She was slender and frail, dressed in a faded white sweatshirt. As she hurried over to my car, my heart gave a strange, painful lurch. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” she said, bowing, her palms pressed against my window in a panic. “It’s my first time riding one, I couldn’t brake in time… I’m really so sorry…” The window was fogged up. Her face was a blur through the condensation. But her silhouette, her eyes… a sudden, terrifying premonition washed over me. I took a deep breath, and my thumb finally pressed down. The moment the picture loaded, I heard my own breathing stop. On the screen, Mark’s head was slightly bowed, his gaze so tender it could drown a person. In his arms was a girl in a white sweatshirt, her face tilted up to his, smiling. She was identical to the girl outside my car window. The world went silent. The only sound was my own heartbeat, thudding so hard it hurt. I slowly lifted my head. Her hand was still pressed against the glass. She was still talking. And my eyes began to burn. 2 The air was unnervingly quiet when Mark arrived. Ten minutes earlier, the girl had made a phone call. We had remained on opposite sides of the car window, one of us standing, the other squatting by her fallen scooter. Neither of us had spoken another word. Until a familiar car turned the corner. Until a familiar figure strode towards us. Until Mark, without even a glance at my car, went straight to her and knelt by her side. “Not listening again. Didn’t I tell you to stay home and rest?” He took iodine and cotton swabs from his pocket and began to expertly clean her scraped knee. The girl giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s nothing! I just wanted to go grocery shopping. It’s your birthday, I wanted to do something special.” “You can’t get hurt again,” Mark said, his head bowed as he carefully tended to the small scrape. “I don’t need any special occasions. I just need you to be safe.” “I know, I know~” I got out of the car. “Two thousand for the repairs. I’ll accept a private settlement.” In the moonlight, Mark looked up, his face instantly draining of all color. “Amber…” he stammered. I didn’t let him continue. “You got here fast,” I said, pointing first at him, then at the girl cowering behind him. “From the moment you answered her call to now, fifteen minutes. That’s all it took for me to see exactly where she stands in your heart.” The wind whipped into the collar of my shirt, and I suddenly felt very cold. “Mark.” I said his name. Three syllables I had been saying since I was ten years old. For fifteen years. I had called him to wake him up, to come to dinner, to say “I love you,” to say “I’ll wait for you.” I had never felt so tired. “Do you have any right to do this to me?” He didn’t answer. The girl shrank further behind him. I stared at her for a long time. Long enough for Mark to take a half step forward, shielding her even more completely. That single gesture hurt more than any photograph. I didn’t say another word. I turned, pulled open my car door, and sped away, just seconds before the tears could fall. In the rearview mirror, he was still standing there, his arm protectively around her, his eyes following my car. The streetlights cast a dim, yellow glow. The face that had made my heart race a thousand times suddenly looked like a stranger’s. The car went faster and faster, memories replaying in my mind like a movie. Ten years old. The day his parents left, he moved in next door. He was so thin, like a piece of paper. I would sneak food from my house and pass it to him over the balcony. He would eat ravenously, tears streaming down his face, saying, “I owe you. Thank you.” Eighteen. He repeated a year of high school just so we could go to the same university. A senior gave me a love letter, and he beat the guy to a pulp. I screamed at him, bit him. He wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, his eyes red. “Amber, I like you too. Be my girlfriend, okay?” On the rooftop, he kissed me for the first time. Then he picked me up and spun me around, laughing like a fool. “Amber, this is the happiest day of my life… Thank you, for healing me, again and again.” Twenty-two. On his first day as a resident, he proposed in front of everyone, swearing he would only love me for the rest of his life. I chose to move to another city for a career opportunity. He helped convince my parents, then told me with unwavering certainty, “Amber, you be you. I’ve got your back.” Every weekend, without fail, he would drive three hours to see me. Rain or shine. For over a thousand days, he never let me spend a weekend alone. Every night, we would talk on the phone for hours, never running out of things to say. Every anniversary I forgot, he would surprise me with something full of love. I don’t think I ever once doubted his love for me. But I don’t understand. I really don’t. How can one heart hold two loves at the same time? My eyes were burning. The wind rushing in through the half-open window stung them. But what hurt more was the heart that had loved for so many years. 3 I turned the car around and drove back to my own city. A hundred and twenty kilometers. I cried so hard I could barely see the road. It took me three hours. My best friend was waiting at my door, holding a cake, her face full of anticipation. “You’re back so soon? How did it go? Was Mark thrilled when you told him you were pregnant?” Today was Mark’s birthday. It was also the day I had planned to tell him I was pregnant. My job transfer had finally been approved. I could move back to his city. So the moment I got off work, I had rushed to see him. I wanted to tell him in person that we were going to have a baby, that we could finally end the long-distance, that we would never have to spend another weekend apart. But instead, I had walked into a nightmare. One I couldn’t seem to wake up from. I looked at my best friend, and my eyes welled up first. The composure I had been desperately clinging to finally shattered. “He’s cheating on me. With the girl he donated his kidney to.” My friend stared at me for three long seconds, and then her own eyes turned red with a fury that surpassed my own. The next second, she was sobbing and cursing Mark’s entire family tree. I completely broke down, collapsing into her arms. She had been there for all fifteen years of our story. When Mark couldn’t afford tuition and was about to give up on college, I stole my family’s savings for him. My dad beat me until my back was covered in welts. I had worked myself to the bone for twenty straight days on a project, just so I could get a promotion and apply for a transfer back to his city. The six months Mark was studying abroad, I broke my leg and lay in a hospital bed, never telling him a word about it. Every time, she would call me a fool, asking me if he was worth it. And I would always tell her, yes. Mark had had it so rough. He only had me. I had to be good to him, better and better. She knew. I loved Mark more than I loved myself. So now, she was a mess of tears and snot, crying and cursing. Cursing him for being blind, for being a heartless bastard, for being a dog who deserved to die. I knelt by the toilet, crying and throwing up. “I want a divorce.” “I’m not having that scumbag’s baby.” “I want Mark to suffer.” Three in the morning. I was curled up in the corner of the sofa, watching the city lights blink on and off. My friend, exhausted, was asleep on my shoulder, tear tracks still wet on her cheeks. I used to think that a good relationship was built on fireworks, on the moon, on roses brought from across mountains, on a million moments of hardship and a thousand tearful embraces. Now I know. Love is built on conscience. The front door suddenly opened. It was Mark. “Amber, it’s not what you think between me and Sarah.”

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To marry me, Alexander knelt for three days and nights, enduring his family’s brutal judgment. But on our fifth anniversary, I received a video of him in bed with someone else. It was clearly filmed in secret. The girl in the video lay on her back, a pillow propped under her hips. The frame shook for a few seconds before steadying. Then I heard that familiar voice. “Legs up. Ten minutes. It helps with conception.” That night, I handed him the divorce papers. Alexander’s eyes were red as he tried to explain. “The family needs an heir, Serena. It’s been five years, and you haven’t gotten pregnant. I was out of options.” “Please, don’t divorce me. I promise you, I’ll break it off with her right now.” Looking at the lattice of scars that still marked his back, my resolve softened. For the next three years, he was a model husband, constantly updating me on his whereabouts to put my mind at ease. Until the day I flew a thousand miles to surprise him on a business trip. And found him with a woman and a child in his arms. 1 “Daddy, can you stay with me a little longer this time?” The boy was about two years old, a cherubic little thing. Alexander knelt, pulling the child into a tight hug. “Of course. Daddy promises.” The woman, Jessica, immediately knelt beside them, gently pulling the boy back. “Sweetie, you can’t be demanding. You’ll make things hard for your daddy.” A shadow of guilt flickered in Alexander’s eyes. The next second, he covered the child’s eyes with one hand and leaned in to kiss her. When they parted, a glistening thread connected their lips for a moment. “Jess,” he murmured, his voice thick, “you’re always so understanding.” “Don’t worry. As long as you stay hidden, as long as you don’t make a scene in front of my wife, I’ll take care of you.” His voice was a low rumble as he nuzzled his nose against hers. My heart seized in my chest. The positive pregnancy report in my hand crumpled as my fist clenched around it. Alexander and I had once been that tender, that passionate. I knew that look in his eyes. He was aroused. I should have thrown the door open right then. I should have screamed at him. “You said you broke it off with her! Why did you lie to me? Don’t you know? I’m pregnant, too!” But I didn’t. I turned in silence and walked away. I went back to our home in Westwood, as if I had never been there at all. One day passed. Then two, then three. Alexander didn’t come home on schedule like he usually did. It wasn’t until a week later that he finally appeared, looking tired from his travels. “Babe, did you miss me?” I just stared at him, searching his face for any crack in the facade. But his dark eyes reflected only me. He looked as if I was still his entire world. Then my gaze fell to his neck. There, on the pale skin, were two stark, crimson marks. I reached out, my fingertip lightly touching one of the marks. “Alexander, what’s this?” I asked softly. He stiffened, his eyes darting away. “Probably a bug bite…” “It’s spring,” I said, cutting him off. “An allergic reaction, then,” his voice grew steadier. “I was at the construction site, and the wind was kicking up all kinds of dust. You know how sensitive my skin is. The slightest thing makes it red.” He took my hand, his tone sincere, his eyes clear. But I didn’t believe him. I looked straight into his eyes. “Is there anything else you have to tell me?” Alexander had always adored children. He was the sole heir to the Prescott Group, the future of the family. Outside the walls of our life, his illegitimate half-brother was circling like a vulture, waiting for him to fail. He needed a child. And yet, he had defied all that pressure to marry me, a woman who struggled to conceive. He had been so devoted, so loyal. So I, in turn, offered myself up as a sacrifice. I had tried countless remedies to get pregnant. Cold needles, one after another, piercing my skin. The medicine was bitter, the injections agony. But while I was dreaming of nothing but a child… He already had one. Now, all I wanted was the truth. “Serena, I love you,” Alexander said, leaning down to kiss me lightly. “I love you so, so much. It’s carved into my bones.” 2 He was lying to me again. My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number. “Ms. Serena, since you already know, can you please give Alexander back to us? A child can’t grow up without a father. I’m begging you, just let us be a family.” It was followed by a picture of a ring. I instinctively touched my own bare ring finger. Our engagement ring. I must have dropped it by accident, right outside the door of their villa in Brookhaven. But the ring wasn’t the only thing I had lost. My hand, holding the phone, began to tremble uncontrollably. Seeing my expression, Alexander immediately tried to look at my screen. “Babe, what is it? Did someone… text you?” I locked the phone and looked up, meeting the poorly hidden anxiety in his eyes. “No one. It was what you just said. It makes me sick.” I forced a smile, my eyes swimming with tears. “You love me,” I scoffed, “but that didn’t stop you from sleeping with someone else.” Pain flashed across Alexander’s face. He pulled me into a crushing hug. “I’m sorry, Serena. I know I hurt you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, being good to you.” He thought I was talking about three years ago. I shoved him away and ran for the bathroom, doubling over the toilet and heaving until my stomach was empty. Alexander’s face went pale. “Serena, you’re thinking about it again.” He clutched his hair, looking utterly broken. “Can’t you just forget it? We decided to start over. Please, stop hurting yourself like this, stop torturing me with it.” He staggered towards me, reaching for my hand. “Let’s just move forward, okay?” I stared down at our joined hands. After I chose to forgive him, I could never stop my mind from wandering whenever we were intimate. His hands had touched that woman. His lips had kissed her. His body had been entangled with hers. The thought alone was nauseating. I was disgusted by his betrayal. But I was even more disgusted with myself for taking him back. Again and again, I would be sick. And he would jam his fingers down his own throat, forcing himself to be sick with me. Each time, he would end up a wreck, his eyes red and his face a mess, kneeling on the floor and clutching my hand. “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault,” he’d plead, over and over. “Serena, forgive me. Please, stop thinking about it…” Just like he was doing now. He looked so pitiful. And so detestable. I ripped my hand from his grasp. “Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” Ding. Buzz. Both our phones chimed at the same time. “Ms. Serena, you can’t have children, and you’re not getting any younger. How much longer can you hold on to your position as Mrs. Prescott? Why not leave with some dignity? His heart has been with me for a long time. Do you need proof?” In the next instant, Alexander gripped his phone tightly. “Serena, there’s an emergency at the Brookhaven office.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. He turned, grabbing his jacket. “I have to go right away. You should get some rest.” He didn’t have time to soothe me. Because on the other end of the line, Jessica was pregnant again. And their child was crying his little heart out. “Mommy, don’t get rid of the baby sister! Daddy, come back!” 3 On my phone, a flood of new messages was pouring in. On my birthday, Jessica had a high fever. Alexander stayed with her in the hospital room all night, holding their son. When I went to the chapel on Serenity Peak to pray for a child, he was with her at the old cathedral in Brookhaven, praying for a protection charm for theirs. Last New Year’s Eve, I went to the family estate alone, enduring a lecture from his mother in the library. He was at their villa in Brookhaven, setting off fireworks with her. In every moment of my loneliness, Alexander chose her, betraying me. The opening riff of my ringtone, a heart-wrenching ballad, tore through the silence. It was my doctor. “Serena, your uterus was damaged in the past, and the lining is very thin. For the first trimester, you need absolute rest. No major emotional swings. Bed rest is best. This might be your… your last chance to be a mother.” I laid a hand on my still-flat stomach. It felt like the whole world was closing in on me. My body moved before my mind could think. I ran out the door after him. But all I saw was the taillights of his car disappearing down the street. My hand trembled as I dialed his number. After a few long rings, a robotic female voice answered. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is currently busy…” He had rejected my call. At the same time, Jessica sent one last screenshot. It was a message Alexander had just sent her. “Jess, I promise you, I will handle everything. When you have this baby, I’ll give you and our children a real home. Wait for me. I’m on my way.”

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To save me from a fire, my boyfriend, Tristan, suffered severe burns and went blind. Guilt consumed me. I sold my parents’ house, worked multiple jobs, and saved every penny for his treatments, even enduring broken bones without medical care. Five years later, while delivering food, I saw him, unscarred, sight restored, proposing to another woman, Lila. I overheard his friend say that to buy his expensive medication, I’d been starving myself. Tristan coldly explained that my suffering was revenge: because I reported Lila’s drunk‑driving brother (who killed my parents), he wanted me to despair. He planned to later “recover” and return to me, claiming I’d have no choice but to obey. Holding my terminal cancer diagnosis, I smiled through tears. In a month, I’d be with my parents again. 01 The heavy delivery box dug into my shoulders. It was a familiar pain, one I had endured countless times. But now, it felt as if five years of numbness had been stripped away, and every sensation came rushing back, sharp and agonizing. Every pore in my skin felt like it was being pricked by a needle. The laughter from the private room seeped through the door. “I was at the night market last month and saw Aubrey selling socks from a little stall. A few local thugs were shaking her down for protection money.” “Those creeps were putting their hands all over her, and she just had to bow and scrape. It was pathetic…” Tristan’s friend sighed dramatically. “She used to be the star of the music department. You wouldn’t recognize that proud, aloof girl now.” I gripped the strap of my delivery box, my knuckles turning white. Tristan’s voice was suddenly tense. “Did you help her?” “Are you kidding? Last time I bought a bowl of noodles from her stall, you chewed me out for a month, said I was going to ruin your grand plan. This time, I just watched from a distance… You should have seen it. After those guys left, she knelt on the ground to pick up the scattered socks, and she just started crying. But after she cried, she went right back to selling. Like one of those resilient little weeds that just won’t die.” I remembered that day. The humiliation. The hospital had sent another bill, but I’d just spent everything I had on Tristan’s imported “miracle drug.” I was still three hundred dollars short. For that three hundred dollars, I had swallowed my pride and endured the thugs’ taunts, just hoping I could earn enough so Tristan wouldn’t be kicked out of his premium private room. “Good,” Tristan’s voice relaxed, laced with satisfaction. “If we don’t grind that pride out of her, how will Lila ever let go of her anger? And how will Aubrey ever learn to be humble?” Lila’s soft voice chimed in. “Tristan, honey, maybe… that’s enough? It’s been five years. I’m sure she’s learned her lesson.” “How can it be enough?” Tristan’s tone hardened. “Lila, I know you’re the kindest, most soft-hearted person, but she’s the one who insisted on calling the police, the one who sent your brother to prison. You cried for a whole month. I promised you, for every day your brother suffers in there, she’ll suffer out here. He’s not out yet, so her suffering isn’t over.” “But what if she finds out?” Lila whispered. “So what if she does? She has nothing left. Where can she go except back to me? Besides, Aubrey is too headstrong. If I don’t teach her to bow her head, she’ll just keep getting hurt. One day, she’ll understand I did this for her own good…” My fists clenched, and the chilblains on the back of my hand split open, welling with blood. Tristan, is this your professional code of ethics as a lawyer? He had probably long forgotten that my deceased parents were the benefactors who had funded his education for ten years. I turned, about to ask a waiter to deliver the food for me, when my phone buzzed. [You have 3 orders nearing their delivery deadline. Please complete them as soon as possible.] I fumbled to lower the volume, but the door to the private room swung open. “Is that my delivery?” Lila poked her head out. She froze for a second when she saw me. I kept my head down and held out the bag. “Your order. Please check it.” Lila let out a small, delicate laugh. She reached for the bag, but the moment her fingers touched it, she gasped. “Oh my! Why can’t you hold it steady…” The bag dropped from her grasp. The exquisite pastries inside shattered, splattering cream all over the floor. “Lila, are you okay?” Tristan’s concerned voice grew closer. I quickly pulled a mask over my face and tugged my helmet down low. Tristan wrapped his arm around Lila, pulling her into his embrace. The warm, yellow light of the hallway illuminated his expensive cashmere sweater. His skin was smooth and clear, without a single scar. His bright eyes swept over me, and then away. I stood there, head bowed, not knowing what to do. I turned to leave. But he grabbed my arm. 02 “You damage a customer’s order and think you can just run off? Apologize!” A wave of relief washed over me, immediately followed by a bitter pang. For a moment, I thought he had recognized me. The customer is always right. I bowed again and again, murmuring apologies. I bent down to pick up the ruined desserts. Tristan clicked his tongue. “Lila’s been abroad for five years. This is the one dessert she’s been craving. Now look at it. How is she supposed to eat this?” Lila tugged at his sleeve, her voice soft and sweet. “It’s okay, Tristan… I’m sure she didn’t mean to. It’s just a shame… And my new shoes you just bought me, they’re limited edition, and they got cream on them…” I looked down. A small smudge of cream stained her high-heeled shoe. “According to consumer protection laws, a delivery person who damages a customer’s property is liable for three times the value,” Tristan said coldly. I straightened up, looking at him through the visor of my helmet. For five years, I had visited him in the hospital every single day. I cleaned him, fed him, read him the news. He was “blind,” so he would always trace my face with his hands, from my brow to my jaw, and say with a pained voice, “Aubrey, you’ve gotten so thin.” Now he stood before me, his eyes perfectly fine, and he didn’t recognize me at all. “How much? I’ll pay.” “The shoes were thirty-two hundred… can you even afford that?” Lila whispered. Thirty-two hundred dollars. That was months of my blood and sweat. “And that doesn’t cover Lila’s emotional distress,” another man added, stepping out of the room. “Look, you obviously don’t have the money, and we’re not unreasonable. Just get on your knees, wipe the cream off Lila’s shoe, and we’ll call it even.” His eyes were filled with cruel amusement, as if I weren’t a person, but a dog to be toyed with. I looked at Tristan. He was gently comforting Lila, saying nothing to his friend’s suggestion. My phone buzzed with another deadline warning. If I stayed here any longer, I would lose my entire commission for the day. I closed my eyes, clenched my fists, and knelt. A low chuckle rippled through the room. Head bowed, I used my sleeve to wipe the cream from Lila’s shoe. Suddenly, she flinched back, pressing herself into Tristan’s arms. “Tristan…” she whimpered, her voice thick with tears. “It makes me think of my brother… I wonder how he’s doing in there, if his hands are getting ugly chilblains like this delivery person’s…” Tristan kicked me. It was so sudden I fell backward, and the leg I had broken slammed against the doorframe. A blinding pain shot up from the bone, but I bit my lip, refusing to cry out. “Get out,” Tristan said with disgust. “Don’t stand here upsetting Lila.” From the safety of his arms, Lila looked at me. Her eyes were gleaming with triumph. I pushed myself up from the floor, grabbed my delivery box, and stumbled out of the club. Behind me, his voice was as gentle as if he were a different person. “Don’t cry, Lila. I’m already working on the appeal. We’ll get your brother out of there soon…” The cold hallway wind seeped into my collar. I was frozen to the bone. I finished the rest of my deliveries in a numb daze and returned to the basement room I rented. The smell of mildew hit me as I opened the door. The ten-square-meter space contained a single bed and a wardrobe propped up on bricks. A thick layer of frost covered the windowpane, and the moonlight that filtered through was pale and ghostly. For all these years, I believed I was the one responsible for Tristan’s injuries. To ensure he got the best treatment, the most comfortable private room, I had scrimped and saved, living a life worse than a beggar in a slum. I held up my hands, swollen and red like raw carrots, and pulled a photograph from under my pillow. In the picture, I had just won the gold medal at a piano competition. My parents stood beside me, their faces beaming with pride. Tears dripped onto the photo. Mom, Dad, your daughter was a fool. It took me so long to see the truth. When we’re reunited, you’ll scold me for being so stupid, won’t you? A sharp pain twisted in my stomach. I reached for my painkillers out of habit, but my phone rang. “Aubrey, are you done with work? Why didn’t you come see me today? I missed you.” Tristan’s gentle voice was once my only salvation. Now, it felt like a thorny vine, wrapping around me, suffocating me. I limped into his hospital room. Tristan was once again the helpless patient, his eyes unfocused, his skin a mess of prosthetic scars. He was leaning against the headboard, his head turned toward the door. “Aubrey? Is that you?” Then his expression changed, his voice filled with alarm. “What happened to your leg? Who hurt you?” I stood in the doorway and just looked at him. For a long, long time. Then I walked in and sat by his bed, just like always. “Tristan, you can’t see. How did you know I hurt my leg?” 03 The alarm on his face froze for a fraction of a second. Then, he naturally reached out, his hand fumbling in the air. “I heard your footsteps. They were uneven… one heavy, one light. Aubrey, you always walk so quietly, like a little cat.” He turned his head, his expression full of pain. “Did you injure your leg?” I lowered my eyes. “It’s nothing. I just took a bad fall.” “How could you be so careless?” He grabbed my hand, his thumb stroking the chilblains on my skin, his voice thick with self-reproach. “Aubrey, this is all my fault… If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have to work so hard. I’m just a burden to you…” I had heard those words for five years. Every time, I would fall into his arms and cry, telling him, “You lost your sight for me. It’s my duty to take care of you for the rest of my life.” Now, I just felt like a clown. I pulled my hand from his and handed him the glass of water from the nightstand. “While I was out delivering today, I heard a story.” “It was about a man who pretended to be paralyzed for five years, just to test if his girlfriend truly loved him. The girl sold everything she had to pay for his treatment. When she finally found out the truth, she jumped from the hospital roof.” Tristan’s hand paused. The water glass hovered in mid-air. After a long moment, he placed it back on the nightstand. “Why… why are you suddenly talking about that?” “I just wanted to ask you.” I leaned closer to his scarred face. “You’re not pretending, are you?” His entire body went rigid. The eyes that had played the part of a blind man for so long trembled for a split second. His lips moved, but no words came out. Before he could speak, I laughed. “If you were, that would be wonderful. I would rather you be healthy.” Seeing the complex emotion flash across his face, the pain in my stomach flared again. A metallic taste rose in my throat. I rushed to the bathroom. The moment the door closed, I braced myself against the sink and vomited a mouthful of blood. The red mixed with stomach acid, burning my throat. I turned on the faucet, washed away the evidence, and splashed cold water on my face. The person in the mirror was skeletal, with sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes. A breathing corpse. I could hear him on the phone, his voice low. “Are you sure? He’s being released on the 28th of next month?” “Good, that’s great! Lila will finally get to see her brother… Okay, I understand. I’ll be there to pick him up myself.” He hung up. I pushed the door open and walked out. He looked up, his face glowing with excitement. “Aubrey, the doctor just called!” “He said there’s a new technology from overseas. They can do the skin grafts and the eye surgery at the same time. The surgery is scheduled for the 28th of next month!” He was trembling with excitement, reaching a hand out towards me. “Aubrey, I’m going to get better! I’ll be able to see you soon!” I took his hand, watching the realistic ecstasy on his face. “That’s wonderful… that’s just wonderful…” he repeated, over and over. I looked down at him, my eyes stinging. One month. Lila’s brother gets out of prison, and he gets “cured.” Five years. He really was a man who kept his promises. My punishment would not be one day longer, or one day shorter. It was just a shame I wouldn’t be there to see it. Tristan’s hand fumbled by the bed and picked up a piece of paper. My body went completely still. It was my Do Not Resuscitate form. 04 But Tristan didn’t even glance down. He maintained his blind persona, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance. “What’s this?” he asked softly. I looked at his charade of a face and gave a bitter, internal smile. “It’s your latest bill.” He pulled me into his arms. “Aubrey, when I get better, the first thing I’m going to do is buy back the piano you sold.” He stroked my hair, his voice a gentle murmur. “And we’ll have a wedding. You’ll look so beautiful in a wedding dress.” I managed a stiff smile in his embrace. Tristan, the future you’re promising… is one I can never reach. There is no future for us. I left the hospital and went back to my basement room. I pulled out a dusty cardboard box. Inside were the notebooks Tristan had made for me when he was my father’s student and tutored me. There were photos we had taken together, one for every day of our early relationship. And the nine hundred and ninety-nine handwritten letters he had sent me. I sat with the box in my lap for a long time. Finally, I struck a match. The flame licked at the edges of a photograph. His smiling face curled in the heat, then turned to ash. I opened my banking app and looked at my remaining balance. It was just enough to buy a small plot for myself, next to my parents. Just as I was about to close the app, my phone rang. “Ms. Aubrey? This is the Phoenix Crest Cemetery management office. Would you be able to come by? There’s an urgent matter.” My heart clenched. I grabbed my jacket and ran out the door. When I got to the cemetery, I could see a group of people gathered around my parents’ grave. Several workers with shovels were pointing at the headstone. “What are you doing?!” I screamed, sprinting towards them and throwing myself in front of the grave. “This is my parents’ grave! What do you think you’re doing?!” Lila stepped out from the crowd. “Aubrey, perfect timing,” she said with a gentle smile. “My little Sheldon passed away, and a mystic told me this plot has the best energy to ensure he has a good reincarnation. So, I bought it.” She paused, her smile widening. “Oh, by the way, Sheldon was my pet turtle.” “You’re lying!” I trembled with rage. “I never sold my parents’ grave!” Lila calmly pulled a document from her purse and unfolded it in front of me. “Look closely. A transfer agreement. In black and white.” My eyes fell on the signature at the bottom, and I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. Tristan. I knew his signature like the back of my own hand. For five years, I had signed countless bills, medical disclosures, and surgical consent forms for him. He claimed he couldn’t see, so I signed on his behalf. But for the documents that required his personal signature, I would guide his hand, tracing each letter. This signature… he wrote it himself. I remembered. The year my parents died, I was only twenty, and I knew nothing. It was Tristan who handled everything—the funeral, the cemetery plot, all the paperwork. I was so grateful then, I thought he was the best person in the world. It turned out, he had been “arranging” everything for me from the very beginning. I lunged for the paper. Lila stepped back, and several men immediately grabbed me, pinning me to the ground. They shoved my face into the dirt, the cold, earthy smell filling my nose and mouth. Lila took out her phone, dialed a number, and put it on speaker. “Tristan, honey…” “I want to bury Sheldon’s ashes at Phoenix Crest, but she’s blocking the way. What should I do?” Tristan’s voice came through, clear and crisp. “Lila, you’re just too kind. That’s why people take advantage of you. You need to be firm when it counts, or every stray cat and dog will think they can stand in your way.” Lila cooed a sweet reply. She turned on the video camera and pointed it at me. “How about this. You apologize, say you were wrong, and I’ll have them stop. What do you say?” My face was buried in the dirt, my eyes burning. “I… was wrong.” “Louder, I can’t hear you.” “I WAS WRONG!” I screamed with every ounce of strength I had left. Lila smiled with satisfaction and waved the phone. “See, Tristan? She apologized. Did I do a good job?” “Perfectly,” Tristan’s voice was laced with amusement. Lila put her phone away and sauntered off with her entourage. I lay on the ground, staring at the grave, which was now a chaotic mess of overturned earth. Tears mixed with the dirt on my face. After a long time, I climbed to my feet. With my bare hands, I began to push the soil back into place, handful by handful. From this day forward, this grave would not only hold my parents. It would also hold my heart, which had been tossed aside like trash. The day of Tristan’s “surgery” arrived. “Aubrey, when I come back from this surgery, I’ll be able to see you. Once I’ve recovered, I promise I’ll make up for these five years.” He got into the car that was taking him to the “airport,” and it drove away. He wasn’t just taking my lying lover with him. He was taking the last flicker of life from my body. The pain in my stomach was getting worse, a twisting, churning agony. I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. I took out my phone and recorded a video of myself. “Tristan, in the next life… don’t let me ever meet you again.” I hit send. The phone slipped from my grasp. My vision blurred. In my last moments of consciousness, I thought I saw someone standing in a bright light, reaching out a hand to me. Mom, Dad, are you here to take me home?

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My childhood sweetheart of a husband loved to go fishing with his female coworker. For the first three years of our marriage, we fought about it constantly. By the fourth year, I was tired of fighting. I picked up my own rod and tackle box and started leaving early and coming home late, just like him. At first, Ryan didn’t care. Not until he came home late one night and found I still wasn’t back. He panicked. He begged me, promising he’d never go fishing again, that he’d stay home and be a good husband. But I wasn’t interested anymore. After all, the man I had on my line was Crestwood’s newest resident. The billionaire widower, Arthur Kingsley. 1 I’m a lazy person. Too lazy to find a new boyfriend, so I married my childhood sweetheart, Ryan. It was fine at first. Our families knew each other inside and out, and we’d grown up together. He was handsome in a clean-cut way, had never had a serious girlfriend, and I knew him down to the last freckle. Life after the wedding was pretty good. Until his parents, tired of him lounging around, arranged a job for him. In his department, there was this loud, outgoing girl who was always asking him to hang out. It started with dinners and karaoke, but somehow, they got hooked on night fishing, staying out all night long. Here I was, in the prime of my life, left to warm the bed alone night after night. How could I stand it? When I fought with Ryan about it, he called me dramatic. His coworker, Sarah, would always add fuel to the fire. “Oh, Ryan, you should just go home. It looks like the little wifey will die without a man around.” A few of their single male colleagues would snicker along. I ignored them and tried to pull Ryan home, but he shoved my hand away so hard I nearly fell. “Have you had enough?” he snapped. “Can’t I have one single hobby? I work my ass off for you all day, I help with the chores. I do everything you ask. The one thing I want is a little time to myself, and you have to chase me down and start a fight?” A wave of indignation washed over me. “A little time? You haven’t really been home in a week.” His face was cold. “What are you talking about? I come home to sleep every single night.” “At three in the morning! And then you’re up and gone for work, and you spend the entire weekend with them. We barely even talk anymore.” “That’s because you don’t have any friends. That’s not my problem,” he said, his face a mask of annoyance. “Iris, let me tell you something. We’re married, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen to every single thing you say.” Growing up, Ryan had always been gentle and easygoing. He had no bad habits and had never once lost his temper with me. That’s why I had felt so safe marrying him. But now, just a few years in, he’d learned how to fight with me. Seeing that he was impenetrable, I got angry too. I turned and stormed off. From then on, our life together was a battlefield. He hated my constant questions; I hated that he was never home. We started sleeping in separate rooms and stopped speaking altogether. The large house felt as cold and empty as a morgue. My heart was so heavy that I stopped taking care of myself. In three years, I gained a ton of weight, and my face was perpetually etched with resentment. It all came to a head when my best friend, Jenna, came to town on a business trip. When she saw me, she gasped. “Oh my god, Iris, what happened to you? How did you let yourself get like this?” “Like what?” “See for yourself!” She pulled out a compact mirror. Reflected in it was a washed-out, bitter woman with dull, lifeless eyes. I was so shocked I dropped the mirror on the table with a clatter. “Jesus, what is that thing? Jenna, do you think I’m possessed?” I frantically told her everything about Ryan. She pursed her lips, watching me for a long time, as if she didn’t know what to say. “Well?” I poked her impatiently. “Say something! Don’t just stare at me.” Jenna sighed. “It’s just… it’s like getting married turned your brain to mush.” I stared at her, confused. She broke it down for me. “Look, it’s obvious that Sarah girl is bad news. She knows you two are newlyweds, but she’s still dragging him out every single day. And Ryan? He’s playing dumb. You think he doesn’t know he should be home with his wife at night? Of course he does. He just knows that if he leaves you at home, you won’t do a thing about it.” “How is that possible?” I said, baffled. “I’m beautiful. Isn’t he afraid I’ll find someone else?” Jenna raised an eyebrow. “Have you?” I shook my head immediately. “No. My grandma always said you have to be a good person. Once you’re married, you can’t mess around.” “And there you have it,” she said. “You two grew up together. You know him, and he knows you. He is absolutely certain that your moral code would never let you cheat on him.” It was like a lightbulb went on. “Oh. No wonder he’s so confident just leaving me at home.” Jenna nodded sagely. “Exactly. And he was right, wasn’t he? I bet you can count on one hand the number of times you two have been intimate lately. And even with all that, you haven’t even thought about finding another man. You’re a pushover, Iris.” My fists clenched. “That bastard! How dare he!” She sighed again. “Look, I’m not telling you to go do something crazy. But Iris, at any point in your life, you cannot let a man take you for granted like this. You have to love yourself, too.” 2 After Jenna left, I went home. The large house was cluttered with junk I had bought over the past three years to fill the void. Cheap stuff from online, a few dollars here and there, had managed to fill over a thousand square feet. The place looked like a landfill. To Ryan’s credit, even while ignoring me, he still provided for me. He gave me three thousand dollars from his eight-thousand-dollar monthly salary as spending money. His mother would also give me cash on holidays, telling me to go play Mahjong. That was the only reason I put up with the misery for so long. But after talking to Jenna, I knew this couldn’t continue. I was wasting the best years of my life in this miserable haze. I looked at my reflection in the mirror—puffy, with greasy hair pulled back in a messy t-shirt—and took a long, deep breath. I tied up my hair, grabbed a giant trash bag, and started throwing things away. I worked from noon until night, filling eight enormous bags. The house was suddenly half-empty. The high-calorie junk food in the pantry, the cheap clothes in the closet, the low-quality makeup on my vanity, and even our wedding photo—all of it went into the trash. When I was done, I boiled two sweet potatoes for dinner. I’d only taken a few bites when the front door opened. Ryan walked in, followed by the impeccably dressed Sarah. She saw me, and her expression didn’t change. “Oh, you’re home,” she said with a smile. “Yeah,” I replied. “What are you doing here?” “Ryan was saying how great his new fishing rod is. I came to borrow it for a test run.” Ryan didn’t even look at me as he walked past and into the other room. Sarah sat down next to me, her eyes on my sweet potatoes. “Why are you eating this cheap stuff? Trying to lose weight?” “Yeah. I’ve gotten too fat. Thought I’d try.” She giggled. “Well, you know, body type is all in the genes. Some people are just born to be big. Starving yourself won’t help. You should just give up. You have any instant noodles? I can make you a bowl.” She started to get up, but I stopped her. “Don’t bother. I threw it all out.” “Why?” “I wasn’t eating it. It was just going to waste.” A flicker of something crossed Sarah’s eyes, but she just smiled. “Alright then. If you’re that determined to lose weight, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” She looked up as Ryan came out of the room and walked over to take the rod from his hand. “Wow, Ryan, this rod really is nice. So thin and light. Come on, I’ve rented a pond on the south side for tonight. Let’s go try it out.” Then she looked back at me with feigned guilt. “Oh, I forgot you were here. Is it okay if I go with Ryan?” Ryan didn’t even consider me anymore. He just smirked. “Why are you asking her? Her opinion doesn’t matter.” Three years hadn’t changed Ryan much, except that he had developed a more mature, masculine charm. That, combined with his well-maintained physique and respectable job, meant that plenty of women besides Sarah were interested in him. He was no longer the innocent boy I had married; the way he looked at Sarah now was tinged with a predatory hunger. I watched them, hating myself for letting a man like this turn me into a ghost of my former self. Ryan glanced at me, his expression dismissive. “I’m leaving. Don’t wait up for dinner.” “Okay.” He started to leave, then turned back. “By the way, I’ll transfer you four thousand this month. We got our quarterly bonus.” “Okay.” 3 With the new balance in my account, I went downstairs and signed up for a gym membership. Thankfully, my in-laws had bought a condo in a great building with all the amenities. After a three-month pass, I still had twenty-nine hundred left. I bought a cartful of whole grains, eggs, and fruit and hauled it all home. Then I looked at my messy, overgrown hair in the mirror and, on an impulse, chopped it all off. For the next three months, I was completely focused on working out. Ryan was gone more often than not, but I barely noticed. After losing over twenty pounds, none of my old clothes fit. I asked Ryan for money to buy a few new things, but he wasn’t as generous as usual. He sent me a string of angry voice messages, yelling at me for wasting money, before finally sending me five hundred dollars. Five hundred dollars. If I had married him so I wouldn’t have to struggle, this paltry sum made our entire arrangement feel like a joke. I accepted the money through gritted teeth, my frustration fueling my run on the treadmill. That’s when a man approached me. He was well-dressed and polite, and he asked me out to dinner. I noticed the Rolex on his wrist, and an idea sparked in my mind. That’s right. I married for security, for an easy life. If I wasn’t getting anything out of this relationship, what was the point? It was time to find a replacement. So that night, I went with the man, Mark, to a private fishing farm. It was remote, but the people coming and going all looked wealthy. I didn’t like Mark. He was sleazy, and his eyes kept darting to my chest. Within minutes, the conversation turned to sex. The guy was moving way too fast. He was bad news. My patience wore out, and I got up to leave. Mark grabbed my arm. “Where do you think you’re going? Once you’re in my car, leaving isn’t so easy.” I almost laughed. “This is a civilized society. What are you going to do, stab me?” He wouldn’t let go. “I don’t have to stab you. I have plenty of ways to make you scream.” What a creep. I tried to kick him, but he dodged. I went for his hair, and we caused a commotion. The owner of the farm came over and pulled us apart, dragging Mark to the side. “Hey, man, take it easy tonight. I’ve got a special guest.” Mark scoffed, straightening his shirt. “What kind of guest gets to tell me how to pick up women?” “The chairman of Apex Group. He just arrived. You know his reputation. He doesn’t like noise.” Mark’s face paled. “Apex? You mean Arthur Kingsley?” “The one and only.” “I heard his wife died a few years ago. He moved his whole company to a new city to avoid the bad memories. What’s a widower like him doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” “He’s just trying to relax, get back to nature. Not everyone is like you.” Their voices dropped to a whisper. I got tired of waiting and tried to slip away. Two minutes later, I was completely lost. After several wrong turns, I ended up behind a rock garden. A man in casual clothes was standing there, looking out at the horizon. He heard me and turned his head. Our eyes met, and we both froze. 4 I don’t know why he froze. I froze because… I had never seen a man that handsome in my entire life. To be fair, Ryan was good-looking. But compared to this man, he was nothing. It was his presence, his aura. Just standing there in profile, he made my heart race. I subconsciously licked my lips. “Um…” Arthur Kingsley looked at me. “Yes?” “I… I’m lost. Can you help me?” My brain had turned to mush. It had been too long since I’d seen a man that attractive. His cool gaze swept over me, then he pointed to the right. “That way.” “Oh. Th-thank you.” I was a good distance away before I realized I shouldn’t have just left. This place was in the middle of nowhere. I’d walk my legs off before I got back to the city. But I couldn’t find my way back to him, and if I ran into Mark again, it would be even worse. Just as I was stuck, a car horn beeped behind me. A Bentley pulled up, and the window rolled down. It was him. Arthur didn’t know why he was playing the good Samaritan, but seeing the woman clutching her jacket in the fading light, he opened the passenger door. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.” I slid into the seat. “Thank you, sir,” I said meekly. Arthur’s eyes darkened for a moment, but he said nothing. He drove in silence. I looked at my phone. It was ten o’clock. Not a single message from Ryan. On social media, Sarah had posted another picture of their group. Ryan was leaning in close to her. Anyone who didn’t know better would think they were a couple. I sighed, wondering if there was any point in continuing this marriage. Without thinking, I turned to the composed man beside me and asked him. Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking a complete stranger for marital advice?” “Sometimes a stranger sees things more clearly.” He gave a noncommittal smile. After a long moment, he said, “If you’re asking me, I’d say the problem is that you haven’t figured out what you want from life.” I froze. The man was ruthless.

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