• I will leave

    “Dean, I accept the assignment. I’ll go to Sheania in two weeks.” Ophelia Hegseth stood by the office window, holding a pregnancy test report. The Dean’s voice came through the phone. “What changed your mind? I’ve been trying to convince you for years.” Ophelia smiled, “Just thought a change might be good. I need to get back to work now, bye.” Fighting back tears, Ophelia looked down at the pregnancy test report again. She had been an outstanding OB-GYN with multiple awards and a promising future. But instead of climbing the ladder, she chose to be a regular doctor just so she could spend more time with Jayden Romano. Three years ago, the Dean had offered her a career-advancing opportunity abroad, but Ophelia turned it down, unwilling to maintain a long-distance relationship with Jayden. Then, just thirty minutes ago, Jayden’s secretary came in for a pregnancy check-up. But it wasn’t really about the check-up. The secretary was marking her territory. Jayden had always doted on Ophelia, loving her to his core. He would’ve given her the moon if she’d asked for it. Their relationship was legendary in business circles. Everyone knew how Ophelia had supported Jayden when he was building his empire from scratch, staying by his side through thick and thin. People often said that when men got wealthy, they couldn’t resist temptation and ended up leaving their wives. But with Jayden, that wasn’t quite the story. Ophelia had believed she and Jayden would spend their lives together, deeply in love. Growing up without parents, she’d always been self-reliant until meeting Jayden. His love and protection had made her give him her whole heart. But things had started to change recently. For the past month, Jayden had been “busy”, and their time together kept shrinking. At first, Ophelia thought he was wrapped up in a new project. Her heart ached for him, and no matter how exhausted she was, she’d come home every day to cook dinner and wait up for him. But today, she learned the truth. Jayden hadn’t been busy with work this past month—he’d been busy with another woman. Ariel Meyer told Ophelia that she and Jayden had been together for a year, starting when she first joined the company as an intern fresh out of college. Suddenly, it all made sense—how she’d gotten fast-tracked from intern to executive assistant before her probation period was even up. When Jayden had claimed Ariel was hired for her “exceptional skills”, he clearly wasn’t talking about her office abilities. It was about how good she was in bed. Ophelia carefully folded the prenatal test results and slipped them into her pocket. Seven years with Jayden, and she’d been hoping to bring up marriage this year. Well, looked like that conversation wouldn’t be necessary now. As she stepped out of the hospital after her shift, she spotted Jayden waiting for her. The black Bentley was hard to miss, as always. “Look who’s here – your devoted CEO boyfriend again!” Her coworker gushed. “God, I’m so jealous. Seven years together, and he still picks you up from work. You two are crazy for each other!” “But aren’t you heading to Sheania for that three-year assignment in two weeks?” her colleague added. “How’s he going to handle that long-distance thing?” “As long as I can handle it, that’s all that matters,” Ophelia replied curtly, already walking toward the Bentley. It was no mystery why women fell for Jayden. Over six feet tall, movie-star handsome, and now a powerful CEO—who wouldn’t be drawn to that package? So Ophelia didn’t blame Ariel. If anyone was at fault, it was her own man who couldn’t keep it in his pants! As Ophelia approached, Jayden pulled a bouquet of blue roses from his car and held them out to her. “Rough day at work, baby?” For the past year, Jayden had brought flowers every time he picked her up. Ophelia had never been into flowers, but she’d always accepted them with a bright smile. Now it clicked. Ariel must have been the type of girl who went crazy for flowers, and Jayden had just assumed Ophelia was the same. “Only little girls need flowers like these. I don’t.” This time, Ophelia didn’t accept the bouquet. In a way, she was grateful to Ariel. Without her, Ophelia would have kept living in denial. She knew with absolute certainty that Jayden would never have ended things with her on his own. But Ophelia didn’t want a love that was tainted.

    Back in the car, Jayden must have sensed something was off. He reached for her hand. “What’s wrong, babe? Rough day at the hospital with a difficult patient?” Ophelia had always worn her heart on her sleeve, often taking her patients’ struggles to heart. “Yeah,” she said softly, looking at Jayden. “Today, I had a patient come in for a pregnancy check-up. I found out later she was the other woman in an affair. “Why do people cheat? Is the grass really always greener on the other side?” At Ophelia’s question, panic flickered across Jayden’s eyes for a split second before he masked it with a casual smile. He pulled her close and said, “You’re just too empathetic, always taking everyone’s problems as your own. “But you know how people are. Sometimes, they just can’t help themselves, always chasing after something new and exciting.” Ophelia looked up at him, a strange feeling settling in her stomach. Earlier that day, she’d been devastated. Seven years of pouring her heart and soul into a relationship—anyone would be heartbroken by such betrayal. But after spending the afternoon processing everything, Ophelia had gained some clarity. So when she heard Jayden’s calculated analysis, she felt no pain, only irony. “You want to try something new?” Ophelia asked, her voice steady. Jayden’s fingers trembled slightly on her shoulder as he answered with practiced tenderness, “You’re all I need. What we have is irreplaceable. I don’t need anything new.” “Yeah, right,” she thought with a bitter smile. If Ophelia hadn’t met Ariel today, she might have believed him. Just then, his phone rang. Jayden instinctively glanced at Ophelia when he saw the caller ID, only answering after confirming she wasn’t paying attention. Jayden instinctively edged toward the car door, trying to put some distance between himself and Ophelia—probably afraid she might overhear. What he didn’t realize was that his Bluetooth earbuds were right next to her, still connected and broadcasting every word of Ariel’s side of the conversation. Ophelia dug her nails into her palms, fighting to keep her composure. After hanging up, Jayden turned to her with a guilty look. “Baby, I’m so sorry, but there’s an emergency at work. I need to head there right away. Let me get you a cab, okay?” But Ophelia had heard it all crystal clear. Ariel was having morning sickness and wanted him to come over for dinner. She’d even bought a new roleplay outfit she knew he’d love. At that moment, Ophelia felt physically sick to her stomach. Looking at Jayden, she put on a sweet voice. “Why don’t I come to the office with you? I don’t have anything planned after work anyway.” Jayden’s face immediately tensed up at her suggestion. “Baby, you’ve had such a long day already. I might be stuck there till late tonight. There’s no point in you waiting around. Just head home and get some rest, okay? I’ll try to wrap things up as quickly as I can.” He sounded so caring, so concerned about her wellbeing. If only he knew that she already knew everything. But Ophelia didn’t push it any further. What was the point? She was just tired of it all. Ophelia asked the driver to pull over and got out of the car alone. Standing on the sidewalk, she watched Jayden’s car disappear into the distance. At that moment, she felt the last warmth in her heart turn to ice. Ophelia walked aimlessly through the autumn night, memories of her life with Jayden playing like a movie in her head. Back then, when Jayden had announced he wanted to start his own business and quit his job, she’d stood by him without hesitation. She’d supported them both on her modest salary, never complaining once. She could still remember those winter mornings, biking to work in the freezing cold instead of taking a cab just so she could put better food on their table. “I promise I’ll make it big,” he’d told her. “We’ll have our dream house someday, Ophelia. Just trust me.” “I’ll cherish you forever,” he’d said. “You’re my forever and always.” A bitter smile crossed her face. He had delivered on part of his promise—the luxury mansion, the successful business. But “forever” hadn’t lasted nearly as long as she’d thought it would.

    Back home, Ophelia took a hot shower to shake off the winter chill and then began packing for her departure. She filled her suitcases with clothes and essentials, arranging for an international courier service to pick them up. The housekeeper noticed her bustling around and asked curiously, “Mrs. Romano, are you going on a business trip?” “No,” Ophelia replied. She had no intention of telling anyone, especially not Jayden’s staff. Instead, she made up an excuse. “Just clearing out my old clothes for donation.” “Mrs. Romano, you’re so thoughtful. I have prepared something to eat for you. Mr. Wilson just called to make sure we’d take good care of you.” “Just called?” Ophelia scoffed inwardly. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Jayden was quite a player—wanting to have his cake and eat it too, refusing to let go of Ophelia while sweet-talking Ariel on the side. He’d even managed to call and check on her while he was busy tending to his pregnant mistress. No wonder everyone still saw Jayden as the perfect husband. All her years of devotion had been forgotten, and now Ophelia finally understood why—Jayden was one hell of an actor. Staring at the food on the table, Ophelia couldn’t bring herself to take a single bite. Her stomach churned, though she wasn’t sure if it was from thinking about Jayden’s disgusting two-faced act or realizing she’d been nursing a snake in her bosom all this time. She barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gripped the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Something clicked in her mind, and she reached for the pregnancy test she kept in the bathroom cabinet. A chill ran down Ophelia’s spine as she waited for the results. Her period was late by a few days this month, but she hadn’t thought much of it until the morning sickness hit. She’d written off the irregularity as stress from her hectic schedule. Ten minutes felt like an eternity. When the two lines appeared, Ophelia’s hands trembled. There wasn’t a shred of joy in her heart. Instead, it felt like a boulder was crushing her chest, making it hard to breathe. Just yesterday, news of this pregnancy would have sent her running to Jayden, excitedly planning their wedding. But knowing Jayden was at Ariel’s place right now, she couldn’t find any joy in the moment. Coming out of the bathroom, Ophelia sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought for what felt like hours, wrestling with what to do about the baby. She’d always loved children and had spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to start a family with Jayden. But this was the last thing Ophelia had seen coming. While she was still reeling from the revelation, Jayden called. He told her he had to go on a last-minute business trip for a week, asking her to take care of herself and stay safe during her commute. Then, she heard a faint voice in the background, a travel agent confirming two tickets to Crystal Island. “Alright, take care of yourself too,” Ophelia replied with her usual warmth. Her familiar concern put Jayden completely at ease. After hanging up, Ophelia smiled. Minutes ago, she hadn’t known what to do about the baby. Now she did. Ophelia called in sick to work and then made appointments for the medical check-up and termination. She couldn’t keep this baby. Ophelia lay awake all night before heading to the hospital early the next morning. After the examination, she followed the doctor to the procedure room. Lying on the cold surgical table, she felt a chill that went bone-deep. The coldness pierced through to her core, like shards of ice stabbing at her heart. At this moment, the last thread connecting her to Jayden was about to be severed forever. From now on, they would truly be separate people living separate lives. When Ophelia woke up, she was hooked up to an IV drip. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach. “It was over?” she thought, a bitter smile crossing her face.

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  • Love is hard to send

    In the year Percival Hopkins was at his lowest, I broke up with him. Later, when he became successful and famous, my father tied me down and sent me straight to his bed. He gave up his wealthy fiancée to reunite with me. Our friends all said he was my savior. But only I knew the truth, that this was just Percival’s delayed revenge. He confined me to a secluded villa on a mountaintop, controlling me with an iron fist. Meanwhile, he openly attended various parties with his former fiancée, Evelyn Leach, and the world only knew of her, never of me. On my birthday, I called Percival. “It’s raining again tonight, Percival. Are you coming back?” Meanwhile, he was busy cutting cake for Evelyn, and his impatient voice came through the phone. “Can you stop going on about the rain? Just deal with it yourself. What, you think you’re going to die from it?” Later, I really did die. He couldn’t help but ask me over and over again in his dreams. “Yolanda Beasley, do you really not want me anymore?” On Christmas Eve, when everyone else was gathering with their loved ones, I wandered the streets like a lost soul. It had been so long since I’d been out, and everything felt new to me. Honestly, this opportunity came only after I begged Percival for a long time. After we got married, it was as if he feared I would run away. He set up curfews for me. Whenever I came home late, he would mock me. “Out running around again? Don’t tell me you’ve found some old client to entertain?” I can still remember the cold gleam in his eyes at that moment. Eventually, he must have tired of being angry, so he just locked me inside the house. If I really needed to go somewhere, I had to ask for permission. I thought, “Looking back, I once ruled the world, but now I’ve ended up like this. It’s pretty pathetic.” The cold winter wind pierced through my collar, making my bones ache with the chill. I hunched my shoulders and wandered along under the eaves, not noticing a white dog almost tripping me. I stepped back, studying it closely. It was a Samoyed, thin and frail, lying stiffly in a filthy pile of garbage. It was clear it had been neglected, likely starving and unloved for some time. Its once-white fur was now yellowed, covered in childish scribbles. Anyone who saw their beloved pet in such a state would surely feel heartbroken. If it were my dog, Carl… I sighed and was about to step over it when a clear, jingling sound caught my ear. The bell around the dog’s neck had fallen off and lightly clinked against its metal ID tag. That ID tag… I took a few steps forward, crouched down, and flipped the tag over. In bold letters, it read: [Carl.] Behind me, the street was busy with people and lights, but in the dark alley, only the cold wind howled through, echoing its mournful cry. I thought, “This damn world really doesn’t leave me any room for sentiment…” I stood there in silence for a long while before finally letting out a deep sigh and a stiff smile. I wrapped my arms around Carl and joked. “Carl, where have you been playing? Covered in dirt… Don’t worry. I’ll get you all cleaned up.” Carl was an adult Samoyed, and back in the day, I could barely catch him when he jumped on me. Now, I could easily lift him up. I struggled to pull out my phone and looked at the balance page, relieved to see I still had a few thousand dollars left. I carried Carl all the way to the nearest pet shop and begged the owner to give him a bath. The kind shopkeeper even recommended a reliable pet funeral service. I held Carl’s ashes and went to a cemetery on the outskirts of town. I found the familiar grave without much trouble and placed Carl’s urn inside. The small urn didn’t take up much space. It was just enough to hold a piece of me. “Carl, sleep now, don’t be afraid, baby. “You’ll be right next to me. It won’t be long before I join you. Sorry, I was useless.” I struggled to lift the heavy concrete slab and place it back into position. Brushing the dust off my clothes, I waved at the tombs on my way out of the cemetery. It was getting late now, and I held my dead phone tightly, hunching my shoulders as I stepped into the house. Before I could even set my shoes down, I heard Percival’s angry voice echoing from the distance. “You’re finally back, huh?” A storm was clearly brewing.

    I hesitated, dragging my feet as I made my way to the living room. I had planned to soften things up with a few kind words to calm Percival down. But when I looked up, I saw him sitting on the couch with Evelyn in his arms. Evelyn was always a thorn in my side back in school. Whatever I liked, she liked. The pretty pens I had, the new dress my parents bought me, and even the guy I had a crush on, she had to chase after those things, too. In college, when I was trying to win Percival’s heart, she was always finding ways to get close to him. Even after Percival and I got together, she still found reasons to show up, always in my way, making my blood boil. By the time I returned home after my time abroad, she had already become Percival’s fiancée. She was just one step away from becoming his wife. But in the end, through a twist of fate, it was me who married him. She hated me very much. And I didn’t feel like about her, either. The smile I had almost formed on my face vanished, and in an instant, I was back to wearing my usual blank expression. “Percival, why did you bring her here?” Before Percival could speak, Evelyn said. “Percival wants a divorce, so he brought me here to see what it’s like to be the lady of the house!” Her hand slid over Percival’s shoulder, and the sleeve of her shirt shifted, revealing a jade bracelet. That was a family heirloom from the Hopkins family, which Percival’s mother had once shown to me when she was still alive. I fixed my gaze on Percival, my eyes sharp. “Is it true?” Percival said nothing, his expression a mix of curiosity as he watched me closely. Evelyn leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek. He didn’t pull away. I knew exactly what he was doing. This was his way of getting back at me for leaving and going abroad. Even though this little drama had played out repeatedly over the past year and more since we got married, it still stabbed at my heart. Evelyn nestled into Percival’s arms, her eyes glittering mischievously. Suddenly, they brightened. She jumped up and rushed over, grabbing a small pet collar. “Isn’t this Carl’s collar? It’s been missing for so long! “When it disappeared, Percival and I were both so worried. Who would’ve thought you would find it now!” Percival noticed the collar, sitting up slowly. A flash of guilt crossed his face. “Why didn’t you bring it back, and then?” “How could I? Carl’s been rotting in the trash.” Percival pressed his lips tightly together as if holding back something, the guilt in his eyes deepening. Then, Evelyn’s expression shifted. She leaned closer to me, her voice calm but venomous. “It’s good that it can’t come back. After you left, I thought I could get close to it, but it really was just like you, always glaring at me. So, I intentionally let it go and had people chase it far away. Well, it’ll never come back. “Yolanda, see? This is its fate.” I forced myself to calm down, struggling to keep the breakdown inside from breaking through. Evelyn was about to say more, but I slapped her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. I shook with anger, grabbing her collar. “Carl’s a lucky one! Don’t curse it!” Before I could say another word, tears started to fall. I wanted to keep going, but then I felt a sharp pain in my hand. Percival had grabbed my wrist, forcing me to release my grip on Evelyn’s collar. He stood above me, looking down coldly. The guilt on his face had long been replaced by indifference. “How dare you hit her? You stole her fiancé. You’ll never be able to make it up to her. “Yolanda, remember your place. You’re just a toy I bought.”

    As Percival said, I stole her fiancé. Three years after breaking up with Percival and going abroad, I couldn’t resist sneaking back into the country. To my surprise, as soon as I walked out of the airport, my father, drowning in debt, caught me. He said he would sell me to the big boss of Gerelden, claiming it would not only pay off his debts but also give his gambling-addicted son some money to squander. I refused with all my might, but he slapped me hard enough that stars appeared before my eyes and tied me up tightly before sending me to a room. Before leaving, he reminded me not to end up like my ungrateful mother, who had been of no use and died in vain. The woman he so contemptuously spoke of had given him her entire life. In her final stages of cancer, she was forced to deal with his creditors, suffering humiliation before she died. That rainy night, her resolute figure, and the pool of blood on the floor were memories I could never forget. I struggled with everything I had, but all I could do was watch him disappear behind the door. I never would have imagined that in my darkest moment, the person who opened the door for me was Percival. He bought me from my father and became my employer… The sound of the door closing snapped me out of my chaotic thoughts. I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was already past midnight. Percival, who had been so nervous while holding Evelyn earlier, was now standing in front of me, drunk. He reached out to pull me up from the floor, holding me tightly. His head rested in the crook of my neck as he pouted to me like he did five years ago. “Honey, why do you always want to leave me? Am I not good enough? “I’ve got money now. I can buy you back.” The hand I had placed on his back froze slightly. I bitterly smiled. When Percival was drunk, everything he said felt like an insult to me. We held each other like lovers who were inseparable. I almost leaned in to kiss him, but then I met his gradually clearing eyes. I watched as the deep affection in his eyes was replaced with disgust. He shoved me away suddenly, and the familiar mockery followed. “Yolanda, how much do you love me? Even after I’ve grown to hate you, you still want to kiss me? “Are you planning to sell yourself again?” I didn’t know if it was because I’d gotten used to it, but the pain no longer struck me sharply. I awkwardly smiled and replied calmly, as if I were talking about something trivial. “Why do you think I’m short on money? You know me so well.” I clung to his legs and stood up, grinning in a way that begged for his favor. “Not much, just a million dollars will do!” Maybe it was my expression, or maybe it was my words, but I seemed to have triggered Percival even more. He looked at me with fury, his teeth clenched. “Are you really doing this for money? Did the Hopkins family starve you or what? “Look at you now. You’re all disheveled, and your face is as pale as a ghost!” He paused, his eyes flashing with a brief look of concern, but in the end, he didn’t say a word of it. “Look at you now. You’re worth far less than a million dollars. I’m not even asking for your room fee!” With that, he slammed the door and stormed off. I stared at my reflection in the glass, feeling like all my life had been drained from me. I barely resembled the vibrant person I once was. I wasn’t pretty, and I was close to death. The medical report in my pocket crinkled under my grip, and the doctor’s words still echoed in my mind. “Ms. Beasley, your condition is more severe than the last check-up. I’m sure you can feel it, and things will only get worse. I still recommend you try the new medicine if possible. It’s expensive, one million dollars per three doses, but at least it will ease your pain.” I looked down and let out a soft, mocking laugh, suddenly feeling a strange curiosity. I wondered, “Percival, what kind of expression would you have if you knew what this money was for?”

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  • After being hypnotized by my fiancé

    The night before the wedding, Jonathan Kelley’s first love, Yolanda Maxwell, sent over her medical report. She said she wanted to see the world one last time before going blind. In order to avoid leaving any regrets with his first love, he decided to cancel our wedding to take care of her. When I confronted him, he grew impatient. “Can you stop being so petty? She can’t see anymore. Can’t you just be a little understanding?” He even tied me to a chair and forcibly hypnotized me to make me forget about him, for a while, at least. Later, I went ahead and married his archrival. With red eyes, he asked me, “How could you marry someone else?” Raymond Baldwin wrapped his arms around me. “Why are you so upset? It’s just a new groom. Don’t be so petty.” Looking at the photo on my phone, I suddenly felt like I didn’t want to get married anymore. An hour ago, Jonathan’s first love, Yolanda, had posted something on Instagram. [I just casually mentioned I wanted a snack, and he dropped everything and rushed to bring it to me.] The post was accompanied by a photo of the two of them eating together closely. In the photo, my fiancé, Jonathan, was lovingly feeding Yolanda. That gentle look was something I had never seen from him. At that moment, I felt like a joke. I remembered how he had come with me to pick out rings in the afternoon and said there was something urgent at the hospital he had to take care of. His “urgent matter” was running off to buy snacks for his first love. Just then, the door opened. Jonathan had returned. He walked into the bedroom and saw that I was still awake. He came over and hugged me. “We had a lot of patients today, so I’m a bit late home.” His voice was soft, and the faint scent of gardenias filled my nostrils. That was Yolanda’s favorite scent. Suddenly, I felt a wave of nausea. I pushed him away and couldn’t help but mock him. “Really? Did you bring her snacks and still find time to see patients? You really are working hard.” “You… you know?” His eyes flashed with panic, and he immediately took out the medical report. “Yolanda’s having trouble with her eyesight. She could go blind at any time.” When I heard him say that, I just found it laughable. She had posted a picture on Instagram not long ago, and now she was supposedly going blind? It seemed like a joke to me. She had used similar tactics to manipulate Jonathan before. Anyone with common sense could tell she was playing him, but Jonathan still believed her wholeheartedly. Seeing that I didn’t say anything, he went on. “You know, Yolanda lost both her parents when she was young. Now, with this illness, she’s struggling with even the basics of daily life. It’s really pitiful.” I sighed deeply and cut straight to the point. “So, you want to go take care of her?” Jonathan fell silent, not answering, but I could already tell his position. It hit me hard soon. We were supposed to be getting married, yet he couldn’t let go of his first love. I suddenly felt empty inside. “Jonathan, if you can’t let her go, I can call off the wedding and set you two free!” I turned around to start packing my things, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist. He pinned me to the chair and took out some rope he had prepared in advance, tying me up. I screamed, “Are you crazy? What are you doing?” A wave of fear washed over me, and I struggled desperately, trying to break free, but I couldn’t move an inch. He looked at me with a trace of guilt in his eyes. “Wanda Norman, don’t be angry. I know you don’t like her, but right now, she really needs me. “I’m going to take care of her for a few days, and I’ll hypnotize you so you can forget about me temporarily.” He took out a golden pocket watch. I stared at him in disbelief. He actually hypnotized me to forget about him just so he could meet his first love! This watch was something I had specially ordered for him as a birthday gift, and never in my wildest dreams did I think it would end up being used on me. A wave of bitterness hit my chest, and I looked at him with eyes full of disappointment. “Jonathan, I’m your fiancée. Have you ever thought about my feelings?” He turned his head, avoiding my gaze, his voice dripping with impatience. “I’ve already said it’s just a few days to take care of her. Can you stop being so petty?” Petty? In an instant, my heart shattered, and I completely lost control. I shouted at him. “Go ahead then. Once you’re gone, don’t bother coming back!” He held the pocket watch up in front of me, playing with it absentmindedly as he spoke softly to calm me. “Wanda, don’t say such things. How could I not come back? I still have to marry you. Now, be a good girl and get some sleep.” I didn’t know where his confidence came from, thinking I would still end up with him. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit me, and I realized he had started the hypnosis. I wanted to fight it, but my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Soon, my consciousness sank into darkness.

    I felt like I had just woken from a long dream, my head pounding. In that dream, I was back to the first time I met Jonathan. He was wearing a black tailcoat and standing on stage playing the violin. Under the lights, he looked angelic, his features sharp and clear, like he had fallen from heaven. I stood below the stage, excitedly shouting his name. That day, Jonathan’s name was carved deeply into my heart. Then, the scene changed. Yolanda walked towards me, holding Jonathan’s arm. “Jonathan only loves me. You’ve lost!” Fragments of broken memories pulled and twisted inside my head, and my brain felt like it was about to explode with pain. With a sharp scream, I woke up. I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, tears soaking my pillow. It then hit me. I hadn’t lost my memory. I couldn’t believe he could be so cruel. The thought of revenge surged in my mind. Why should he be allowed to leave me for another woman when I couldn’t do the same? The wedding had already been planned, and the invitations were sent out. If I showed up on the wedding day with a different groom, Jonathan would become the laughingstock of the entire city. With that thought in mind, I put on some makeup, picked out a mermaid-style dress from the wardrobe, and took a taxi to the nightclub. The deafening music in the bar made me feel a little disoriented. This was my first time at a place like this, and after searching for a while, I finally spotted Raymond. He was wearing a white shirt, his legs crossed on the table, his hands resting on the sofa, his eyes half-closed. “Mr. Baldwin, why are you drinking alone? How about I join you?” When Raymond heard my voice, he slowly opened his eyes. When he saw me, his expression was full of surprise. “Aren’t you busy preparing for your wedding? What brings you to a place like this?” I took the drink from the table and finished it in one go, replying, “I broke up with him.” Raymond raised an eyebrow at the word “break up” and then teased, “Oh? Did he and Yolanda get back together and dump you?” “I dumped him.” Raymond’s gaze sharpened. “So, what’s your plan now? What do you want from me?” “My wedding still needs a groom. Want to consider marrying me?” “Ms. Norman, you’re something else. Everyone knows there’s bad blood between Jonathan and me. If I take the woman he doesn’t want, it’ll be the biggest joke in the city!” Raymond built his empire from the ground up, while Jonathan was the classic rich second generation. The two of them had always been at odds, never liking each other. I had already guessed he would refuse, but I still wanted to take a gamble. I leaned forward, placing my hands on the couch, giving him a seductive look, my voice dripping with charm. “I’m still engaged to him. He’s been hypnotizing me while secretly seeking out his first love, planning to come back and continue our wedding. “If the groom is switched on the wedding day, Jonathan will definitely become the laughingstock of the entire city. Don’t you find that interesting, Mr. Baldwin?” His eyes were locked on me, full of anger. “You want to use me to get back at him? “Wanda Norman, what do you take me for?” Seeing his anger, I pushed his buttons even more. “I heard that the Baldwin Group lost a major deal to the Kelley family last week. Doesn’t that piss you off? “Seems like you are nothing but a coward who swallows his frustration, Mr. Baldwin. If that’s the case, then I’ll just leave.” After saying that, I noticed he didn’t respond, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed, realizing I had overestimated myself. I turned to leave, but he suddenly grabbed me and pulled me back into his arms, his fingers tilting my chin to look into my eyes. “Are you that impatient?” I was a little taken aback. Did he just agree? Before I could ask him what he meant, he whispered in my ear. “Wanda, in my dictionary, there’s no such thing as divorce, only widowhood. “We can get married, but we have to get the certificate. Think it through carefully.” I froze for a moment, recalling what my best friend had said before. She told me Raymond was a notorious workaholic, uninterested in emotional matters, and had no rumors about him at all. Some even wondered if he was into men. Now that he was saying this, I was a bit lost. I had only wanted to use him to humiliate Jonathan, but he was taking it seriously. Seeing I hadn’t responded, he sneered. “What? Are you scared?” There was already a fire burning inside me, and his words only stoked it further. The alcohol made my feelings bubble up even more. Looking at his sharply defined face, I leaned in and kissed him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His lips were cool and soft. “Wanda, you’re the one who came on to me.”

    He lifted me up and walked toward the door, opening it and gently placing me inside the car. The car sped along and soon stopped in front of a villa. Once we were inside, he laid me on the bed and immediately hovered over me. To be honest, I was a little nervous. I had been with Jonathan for so long, but we had never crossed any boundaries. This was the first time I had been this close to a man, and my whole body was tense. Raymond seemed to sense my unease. He leaned in, whispering in my ear. “Relax, don’t be nervous. I’ll teach you how to do this.” His warm breath tickled my neck, sending electric shivers down my spine. Then, he kissed me. At first, I was uncomfortable. But with his lead, I slowly began to lose myself in the moment. He didn’t stop until morning. I was completely exhausted, and in my dazed state, I thought I heard him say something. “Wanda, I’ve finally got you.” When I woke up, my body felt like it had been shattered. The scattered clothes around us were a clear sign of just how intense the night had been. While I was lost in thought, the door suddenly opened. Raymond walked in, carrying a glass of milk. I reached out to take it. But I noticed his gaze was fixed on my wrist. Looking down, I saw the marks from where he had gripped me. He held my hand, his eyes red, his voice full of concern. “What happened? Did he hurt you?” When I saw his worried expression, a warm feeling washed over me. I smiled, trying to sound casual. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” But when Raymond heard me say that, his gaze grew darker, and his face slowly turned serious. He let go of my hand and walked out of the room. I stood there, unsure of what had just happened or where I’d gone wrong. But before long, I saw him walk back in with a first aid kit. He knelt down in front of me, dipped a cotton swab in alcohol, and gently started disinfecting the wound. When I saw how serious he looked, my heart suddenly softened. I hadn’t felt cared for in such a way for a long time. When I had severe cramps during my period a while back, I called Jonathan, hoping he would bring me some painkillers. He’d told me, “All women have cramps. Why are you being so dramatic?” Since then, I have never expected his care again. Tears started to well up in my eyes, and they fell one by one. When Raymond saw me crying, he seemed a bit lost. “Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?” I shook my head, choking up as I asked. “Do you think I’m being dramatic right now?” “No.” He pulled me into his arms, cupped my face gently, and kissed away my tears. With a serious look, he said. “Wanda, you have every right to be dramatic with me. My shoulder will always be here for you to lean on, and I won’t let you shed a single tear.” I looked at him through tearful eyes, whispering, “Okay.” We went to City Hall and quickly completed the paperwork. Holding the marriage license in my hand, I still felt a bit dazed… I had actually married Jonathan’s sworn enemy. Raymond waved his hand in front of my face, concern in his voice. “Wanda, what’s wrong? What are you thinking about?” My thoughts snapped back, and I sighed a little. “It just feels… so sudden. Like I’m dreaming.” Raymond pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately. He didn’t let go until I could barely breathe. Looking at me with a possessive expression, he said. “Do you regret it? Regret won’t change anything. From now on, you’re mine and only mine.” After we left City Hall, he took me to a newly opened exotic restaurant. We entered the dining hall, and he called the waiter over to order a platter of grilled shrimp, sweet-glazed ribs, and beef cheese rolls. Then he turned to the waiter and added, “Oh, and no spices, please.” I looked at him in confusion. “How did you know I like these dishes and that I don’t like spices?” He smiled faintly. “It is just some things I need to pay attention to really understand.” Tears gathered in my eyes again as I thought about how, when I was with Jonathan, he never cared about my food preferences. I liked exotic dishes, while he preferred local cuisine. I was always the one adjusting to him. But in just a few short days with Raymond, he had already become so thoughtful and attentive. So, this was what it felt like to be cared for. After dinner, we returned home. He went to his study to work while I took a shower and lay down on the bed. Just then, a video from a friend popped up on my phone.   In the video, Jonathan was kneeling on one knee, holding out a ring to propose to Yolanda. The people around them cheered, “Say yes, say yes!” Yolanda, blushing, nodded shyly, and he slid the ring onto her finger. The two of them shared a passionate kiss. As I watched this, my heart didn’t stir at all. I was about to close my phone when Raymond walked in. He saw the video on my screen, and his face immediately darkened. He tilted my chin up, his voice low and firm as he warned me. “I won’t allow my wife to have feelings for another man.” His possessive, yet slightly hurt, gaze melted my heart. I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck, gazing back into his eyes. “The moment we registered our marriage, I completely let go of him,” I said softly. “I’m just grateful. If it weren’t for him, I might never have woken up. Otherwise, I would never have met someone as wonderful as you.” Before I could finish, he leaned down and kissed me passionately, our fingers intertwining as if he wanted to pull me into his very being, claiming me completely. In the haze of the kiss, all I could hear was him repeatedly whispering in my ear. “You’re mine. You belong to me and only me.” The next few days, Raymond and I went to choose the wedding dress and rings, preparing everything for the ceremony. We lived like newlyweds, sharing a life together. Raymond treated me so well that I suddenly felt like maybe my impulsive decision back then wasn’t such a bad thing. Soon enough, the big day arrived. I sat in front of the mirror, looking at myself in the wedding dress with delicate makeup, still in disbelief that I was about to get married. I had imagined so many times what it would be like to wear a beautiful wedding dress and say, “I do” to Jonathan. But I never imagined that just a few days later, everything would change so completely. It was Jonathan’s coldness that had snapped me out of it. If it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have ended up with Raymond so soon. Lost in thought, I barely noticed when the host outside the door called out for the ceremony to start. With the sound of music playing, I stood up, lifted my dress, and walked towards the wedding stage. The past was now just a distant memory. The things that once mattered would eventually fade. One had to look ahead. I truly believed that the future would only get better. Just then, the doors to the hall opened, and Jonathan hurriedly entered, dressed in a black suit. He stood at the door, panting, clearly having rushed over from Yolanda’s place. One of his friends stepped forward, anxious. “Why are you only just getting here? If you’re any later, it’ll be too late.” Jonathan gave a careless smile. “What’s there to worry about? Even if I’m a few minutes late, Wanda will wait for me. I’ve stood her up so many times before, and didn’t she always come back and cheer me up?” “Right, you really have her under control.” “Alright, keep this conversation between us. Don’t go spreading it around!” “Of course, don’t worry. I’ve got your back, bro.” At that moment, the host took the microphone and announced, “Now, let’s welcome the groom to the stage.” Jonathan adjusted his bow tie, smiling as he took his first step. Just then, Raymond, dressed in a tuxedo, passed by him, walking directly onto the stage and taking my hand.

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  • The flames flicker

    From the instant we exchanged our wedding vows, my husband, Julian Smith, embarked on a fervent mission to knit me seamlessly into his family, dedicating himself to having sex with me to make me pregnant. But after three years, my belly remained flat. Gradually, his patience began to wear thin. Eventually, he abandoned me in a fire, leaving me with his new lover. Yet, I wasn’t shattered. After being rescued, I did three things. First, I secretly hid my pregnancy test report. Second, I moved out of the home we’d shared for three years. Third, on our wedding anniversary, I filed for divorce. Julian remained indifferent. His new lover came to me to apologize, tears streaming down her face. “Judy, Mr. Smith didn’t mean to hurt you. If you’re angry, blame me.” I didn’t blame her. I simply told her to leave. Julian wrapped his arms around her, murmuring soothing words, but the moment he turned to me, his demeanor shifted. With a voice as cold as ice, he declared and tossed a divorce agreement my way, “Don’t regret it.” With not a single regret in my heart, I departed in silence, hiding the secret of my pregnancy. But later, when he stumbled upon my pregnancy test report, his eyes flared red with fury, and he seemed to lose all sense of reason. ***** In the aftermath of the fire, I lay in the hospital for three long days, but Julian never visited. Upon my discharge from the hospital, I found myself perched alone on the sofa, lost in contemplation over the doctor’s words. The doctor had said, “Ms. White, you’re pregnant, but the pregnancy isn’t stable. You must take care to avoid any intense emotions or excitement.” Remembering my past miscarriages, I silently vowed, “Baby, this time, I will bring you into the world.” Julian returned late that night. He was engaged in a phone conversation, a tender glow softening his gaze. A woman’s voice drifted through the line. It was none other than Linda Green, the rising starlet he had heroically pulled from the fire just recently. Once, this would have driven me mad with jealousy. Now, it left me numb. Only after hanging up did he notice me on the sofa. Surprise flickered across his face, followed by irritation. “Why didn’t you tell me you were discharged?” he yelled. I almost laughed. I’d texted him long before leaving the hospital. He just hadn’t cared enough to notice. When I didn’t respond, he sat beside me. After a brief pause, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black credit card. With a calm directive, he said, “Take this, and keep preparing for the pregnancy.” My hand rested on my belly, where life was already growing. I kept the existence of our child a secret, leaving the card untouched where he had placed it. Instead, I handed him a contract. “Julian, let’s get divorced.” The words on the divorce agreement stunned him. His brow creased into a frown, and his voice was laced with the same impatience as always. “Divorce? Did you not just go through a fire before? And besides, you’re here, safe and sound, aren’t you? Now, you want to divorce me over this?” he snapped. I thought, “Go through a fire? Safe and sound?” My nails dug into my palms as I fought to keep my emotions in check. Yes, I’d survived the fire. But the fire had always been my shadow. It had killed my mother and nearly claimed me, too. Julian had saved me back then, pulling me from the abyss. So, shouldn’t he, of all people, know how terrified I was of fire? How could he just abandon me in the midst of flames and walk away, hand in hand with another woman? As I held my silence, he continued, “Come on, be sensible. I’ve had my hands full. That’s why I couldn’t make it to the hospital.” With my patience worn thin, I let out a derisive sneer and retort. “If being ‘sensible’ means I should overlook how you left me for dead at the fire and walked out with another woman, only to expect me to act like nothing happened, then yes, I guess I’m not sensible at all.” I took a deep breath and declared, “Julian, let’s get a divorce.” He fell silent, his expression darkening as he sat there for a moment, brooding. Finally, he left the card on the table. “Don’t be rash. Keep trying for a baby.” With that, he walked upstairs without looking back. I knew he was trying to appease me. He’d done this before whenever I’d been jealous of Linda. There was a time when he would at least conjure up surprises for me, but now, all that remained was a credit card devoid of any real sentiment. He thought I’d give in like I always had. But this time, I wouldn’t.

    Watching Julian’s back as he walked away, I sneered. Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced my lower abdomen, yanking me from my thoughts. My hand instinctively flew to my stomach as I rushed to the guest bedroom, taking a folic acid pill. I softly placed my hand on my belly, whispering words of silent solace to the delicate life blossoming within. That night marked the beginning of another cold war between Julian and me. This had become his go-to tactic, coercing me into conceding my supposed faults ever since we tied the knot. Once upon a time, I had bowed my head because I loved him. But now? Now that the love was gone, there was no reason to give in anymore. I packed my things and moved out. That night, he made no effort to find me, which I welcomed as a chance for some freedom. I seized the opportunity to make plans with my best friend, Rachel Gray, for dinner and a movie. As we drove home afterward, Rachel finally broke the silence. “Are you really going through with the divorce? Are you prepared to let go of everything you’ve worked so hard for?” Within the car, my hand tenderly caressed my pregnant belly. The lights beyond the window cast a dim glow, yet a serene calm enveloped me. Her question didn’t stir up any anxiety in me. Maybe I was just too disappointed to feel anything anymore. “I’m planning to take a job at Joyvo Group,” I said softly. Rachel’s eyes widened in surprise. “If you go to Joyvo Group, Julian will lose it,” she exclaimed. I thought about it for a second and chuckled, “Now that you mention it, I think I want to go even more.” After a restorative night, I composed an email to Julian, formally tendering my resignation. He offered no response, so I took his silence as tacit agreement. The very next day, I turned on my heel and aligned myself with his competitor, Joyvo Group. Consequently, on my first day at the new company, Julian sought me out. In front of everyone, he grabbed my arm and pulled me away. He looked livid. I stumbled after him, my free hand instinctively covering my belly to protect the baby inside me. “Julian! What the hell is wrong with you? Are you insane?” I yanked my arm, trying to break free. “I think you’re the one who’s lost it!” he snapped. “You want to work at Joyvo Group? Did I give you permission to resign?” His face loomed mere inches from mine as he pulled me close. Our gaze met when his eyes burned with anger. “Do you even remember how Joyvo Group tried to destroy us in the beginning?” he demanded. Of course, I remembered. How could I forget the humiliation Julian endured when Joyvo Group had tried to suppress us? It was a wound he had carried for so long, a constant source of pain. But that pain didn’t justify the way he treated me, did it? He never cared about my hurts, so why should I care about his? “Have you said everything you needed to say?” I asked. “Because if you have, then let me go. I have work to do.” I tried to pull away again, but his grip was like iron. His fingers dug into my wrist, and I winced. His eyes were red with rage. “You will not work for Joyvo Group,” he growled. “Name any condition. Anything but this.” Any condition? I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. In his mind, we were still haggling, still negotiating like this was some business deal. When had our relationship become so transactional? When had love turned into a series of demands and conditions? I met his gaze, his eyes brimming with a tempest of anger. His eyes, which I had once loved so deeply, now gazed back at me with an unsettling unfamiliarity. I took a deep breath, letting the calm wash over me again. “Fine,” I said firmly. “My condition is divorce.”

    After a brief pause, I lifted my head again, meeting Julian’s red-rimmed eyes head-on. I repeated my words. “As long as you agree to a divorce, I won’t take the job at Joyvo Group.” I could see the anger in his eyes bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to spill over. My wrist felt as though it might snap under his vice-like grip. Just when I braced myself for his inevitable rejection, he laughed. “Fine,” he said, his tone dripping with malice. “Since you want a divorce so badly, I’ll grant your wish. But don’t regret it.” Our journey to the courthouse was swift, yet I had overlooked the mandatory 30-day cooling-off period before the divorce could proceed. The divorce was stalled, and we were now tethered to an agonizing wait of another 30 days. I stood on the steps, waiting for the taxi, feeling a growing sense of impatience. Julian stood beside me, unmoving. He exuded an air of confidence as if victory was already within his grasp. “Judy White,” he began. “I admit that I’ve neglected you lately, but you’ve been too willful. If you come back now, we can work through everything. As for Linda, there’s nothing between us. We’re just cooperating for the company’s marketing. That’s all.” It was the first time he’d ever explained so much to me. Yet, there remained one thing he never clarified—why he abandoned me to the flames that day, choosing instead to rush to Linda’s rescue. I turned to look at him. His expression was calmer now, but his eyes were deep, reflecting my own image back at me like a mirror. He still thought this was just a spat, something that could be smoothed over with a few words. And then, just like before, he started to coax me again. “Let’s prepare for pregnancy. Once we have a child, everything will go back to how it was. My family will accept you once we have a baby.” I had heard him say this before. But this time, something inside me had changed. The expectations I once had were gone, burned away like ash. What did it matter whether his family accepted me or not? I was the daughter of a murderer, after all. Our marriage was over. It had been over for a long time. A flutter of movement in my abdomen, the baby kicking, reminded me of the life growing inside me. Suddenly, I was reminded of the day Julian and I went to get our marriage certificate. Back then, he had been young and full of passion and sincerity. He held our marriage certificate like it was the most precious thing in the world, his face splitting into an ear-to-ear grin. “Honey,” he had said, “We’ll never divorce!” How wrong he had been! At 22, Julian had only me in his heart and eyes. At 30, Julian had more than just me in his eyes and heart. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt cold all over. “Julian,” I confessed, “I really don’t want to go on with you.” With those words, I climbed into the car and l As the car pulled away, my phone buzzed with a message from Julian. His words were filled with rage. Julian: [I’ll give you one last chance. Come back and prepare for the pregnancy!] Rather than respond to his message, I blocked his number, erased it from my contacts, and tossed my phone aside.   That evening, after taking my folic acid tablet, I planned to settle into bed. But then I felt a dull ache in my abdomen. The doctor’s words echoed in my mind. “Ms. White, you’re pregnant, but the pregnancy isn’t stable. You must take care to avoid any intense emotions or excitement.” I gently rested my hand on my belly, which was just beginning to show the faintest curve. Whispering to the life growing inside me, I said, “Baby, no matter what, I will protect you. I’ll bring you into this world and make sure you grow up happy and safe…” With that, I drifted into a peaceful sleep. During the cooling-off period before the divorce, all I wanted was to live quietly. I yearned to erase it all from my memory and forget Julian entirely. Then, I planned to find a place where I was a stranger to give birth and raise my child in solitude. No longer would I have to wait in solitude at home each day, uncertain if Julian would return or not. I would no longer have to stew in jealousy over him and those female celebrities he claimed were merely business targets. I would no longer fret over his family rejecting me because I was the daughter of a murderer. But the next day, my phone rang. It was Rachel. Anxiously, she urged me over the phone, “Judy, please, check the trending searches on Twitter.” I opened the app, and my mind went blank instantly. The trending topics were filled with explosive revelations. [Golden Agent Judy White Revealed as the Daughter of a Murderer] [The Nation-Shaking Murder Case from Twelve Years Ago, Judy White’s Mother Found Guilty] The hashtags quickly climbed to the top of the list, dominating the hot search rankings. The comment section was a cesspool of venomous speculation and vile insults. My hands trembled as I held the phone. On the other end of the line, Rachel spoke with a voice laced with urgency, “Judy, you won’t believe this, but Julian’s company just released a statement confirming it’s all true…” Her words faded into the distance, drowned out by the roaring in my ears. In a trance, my mind drifted back to that fateful night, a night soaked in the stark hues of blood and the fierce glow of flames. I was catapulted back to the time when I lost everyone dear to me. Each day and night, I faced the relentless cruelty of my classmates. Their bullying, oppression, and mockery became the dark shroud of my existence. Everywhere I went, they’d point and whisper, “Look, that’s Judy, the murderer’s daughter.” Even when I hid, their voices followed me. “Judy’s father was a rapist, and her mother’s a murderer.” The first time I visited Julian’s house, his mother looked at me with icy disdain and asked, “Are you the Judy who was almost raped by her own father?” These memories crashed over me like waves, sharp and unrelenting. It was as if a knife was slicing through me, cutting me into pieces again and again. I couldn’t tell how many moments slipped by in that haze. Then, the door burst open, and Rachel’s voice pierced through the haze. “Judy! You’re bleeding!”

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  • Wife’s Tears

    For the past two months, I’d been trapped in a suffocating fog of despair. My wife, Lilian Chase, had just shared the miraculous news that she was pregnant. But then, in a cruel twist of fate, she lost the baby. It was my fault. If I hadn’t been so consumed with delivering takeout and running errands, Lilian would never have dashed into the street in the dead of night, desperate to find me after waking from a nightmare. She wouldn’t have had a car accident and lost the baby. It was already past midnight, nearing 12 a.m. Lilian lay curled up on the bed, and her face was still streaked with the remnants of tears from her latest bout of sobbing. I sat beside her, whispering words of comfort until exhaustion claimed her that she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep. With tears still glistening in her eyes, she clung to the memory of our lost child, unable to let go. This scene became a cruel routine over the past two months. Every time her guilt-ridden sobs echoed through the room, my own guilt gnawed at me, growing heavier with each passing day. I took on extra work, not just delivering food but running long-distance errands, all to provide a better life for her and the future children we dreamed of having. That night, I had accepted an order from six miles away. The rain poured down relentlessly, but the 150-dollar errand fee meant I could take Lilian out for a nice meal. But the roads were slick, and the darkness swallowed everything. After picking up the medicine from a pharmacy on the east side of the city, I rushed to the destination. In my haste, I slipped on the slick pavement, scraping my elbows and knees. But the sting of my scrapes was trivial. Nothing mattered more than delivering that takeout on time. Still, by the time I arrived at Room 1302 in Riverside Heights, the delivery was already overdue. I pressed the doorbell, and after a few moments, a scowling man yanked the door open. My face was hidden beneath my helmet and mask, but I recognized him instantly. His sharp, chiseled features were hard to forget. It was the same man who had hit my wife two months ago at the intersection of Cedarwood Boulevard and, to his credit, drove her to the hospital. I couldn’t dredge up his first name from memory, but I knew for certain his surname was Wilson. When I dashed to the hospital on that fateful day, there he was at the cashier’s office, settling the bill. He explained that Lilian had suddenly darted out into the road. Amidst her tears, Lilian admitted to it. Overwhelmed with guilt, I apologized over and over, and in an attempt to make amends, I paid him five thousand dollars to cover the cost of his shattered windshield. Who would’ve thought that by simply running errands, I’d cross paths with him? “What took you so long?” he snapped, snatching the soggy paper bag from my grasp. “It’s drenched! If you can’t handle this job, maybe you should just quit!” I was on the verge of apologizing, my mouth opening to say “Mr. Wilson,” when a voice from within the apartment halted me in my tracks. It was a soft, languid voice that sent a jolt of electricity through my entire body. “Cutie, why don’t you come in? I’ve been waiting forever!” “I’m coming,” he responded, and his smile was tinged with a hint of lust. Throwing me a dismissive glance, he then turned back inside, slamming the door shut. “The moron won’t be home until two. We don’t have much time.” The voice from within grew faint, but it was etched into my memory. No matter how many years might slip by, I would recognize it anywhere. That was unmistakably Lilian’s voice.

    The tiny bear keychain, sprawled out on the floor of the entrance hall, was a creation of my own hands, crafted with love for her. The woman who should have been nestled in our bed, sleeping peacefully, was with another man. I didn’t remember much about how I left Riverside Heights that night. I only recalled the tumble down the staircase, where agony dulled into numbness, and yet, in a haze of disorientation, I somehow pulled myself upright once more. I had to go home. Lilian was waiting for me there. Down below in my neighborhood, one solitary streetlight had been broken and dim. I stood in its shadow, hidden from view, as I watched Lilian step out of a taxi. She looked over her shoulder, nervously glancing around before heading upstairs. I surmised she must have tidied herself up by now, perhaps even settled into bed. With that thought, I stubbed out my eighth cigarette, plastered a hollow smile across my face, and stepped into the elevator. As soon as I opened the door to our apartment, I could hear the familiar shuffle of her slippers. Lilian appeared in her teddy bear nightgown with light yellow fluffy slippers on her feet. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, giving me the impression she had just been roused from sleep by my arrival. “Are you back?” she asked casually, taking my dripping raincoat and hanging it outside the door without a second thought. I shuddered. “It’s quite cold in here. Didn’t you turn on the heating?” Lilian paused, a flicker of shock crossing her face, before she hurried to turn up the radiator. “Maybe it’s broken. It’s not warming up,” she said. “Broken?” I thought. “It’s only been six months since I bought it. How could it be broken?” But I knew the truth. The power had cut off automatically when she left the house to meet her lover. She hadn’t had time to turn it back on when she returned. I simply muttered, “Yeah.” “Why are you so early today?” she asked. “It’s pouring out there,” I answered with a shrug. “Guess folks aren’t in the mood for deliveries tonight.” “Doesn’t that mean we’re losing out on cash? The delivery fees go up when it rains!” she protested. Her lips formed a pout, a hint of frustration coloring her voice. She had no idea that, at night, I wasn’t just delivering food. I was also running errands on the side, taking any job I could find to make extra money. If her heart truly held concern for me, she would’ve picked up on the slight limp as I walked or the tremor that shook my right hand. Yet, she asked not a single question. She was merely playing the part of a wife. The hot water poured over me in the shower, mixing with my tears. Pain and disappointment flowed down my cheeks, but I clenched my teeth, refusing to let out a sound. Lilian and I had been in love for three years before we got married. Two years had passed since then. How could I simply walk away after five years entwined with her? What if the one I truly loved were to suddenly disappear from my life? Would I crumble into pieces? I slapped my own cheek hard. I hated my incompetence and my cowardice. Lilian had been with me for five years, but I still hadn’t given her the life she deserved. The truth was, I was incapable. I couldn’t pledge to her a bright future. Maybe that man was just a momentary lapse for her. Everyone deserved a chance to be forgiven, right? Those nights, I came home early. I settled next to her on the couch, the flicker of the TV casting shadows as we watched shows and scrolled through videos, sharing the quiet intimacy of late-night snacks. She would curl up in my arms, her body language betraying a growing restlessness.

    “No orders these days?” Lilian asked. “I’ve been busy for over half a month,” I replied, leaning back on the couch. “I’m exhausted. I just need a break.” She rolled over, her gaze locking with mine, and said in an earnest tone, “It’s around Valentine’s Day, so flower deliveries must be booming. Are you sure you don’t want to cash in on that?” I stayed silent. Her brows furrowed, and her cheeks flushed with anger. She grabbed the remote and hurled it to the edge of the sofa. “I’m tired,” she snapped. “I’m done watching this. Let’s just go to sleep.” Just then, the doorbell rang. I jumped up and hurried to the door, returning with a bouquet of red roses. I handed them to her, my heart pounding. “Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’ll love you forever.” But the sweet response I’d hoped for never came. Lilian froze for a moment and took the bouquet stiffly. “Thank you,” she said flatly. My enthusiasm crumbled instantly. “Why the sudden urge to give me flowers?” she asked. “You’ve always said I’m clueless about romance,” I answered, striving to keep my voice from wavering. “Ninety-nine red roses speak the language of ‘forever and ever’. “Honey, will you always be with me?” My gaze must have been too intense because she shifted uncomfortably, her hand brushing her neck. “It’s like a sauna in here. Let me fix the thermostat,” she said, getting up to adjust the heat. She turned away, and I let out a bitter laugh, my eyes burning. “Hey, you know what?” I began. “Four days back, when I was out late, I ended up delivering a box of condoms to Riverside Heights.” The roses slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a soft thud. “And I got to thinking,” I continued, “what kind of couple goes six miles out of their way to a drugstore for condoms? Certainly not the respectable kind.” I stepped closer, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “How could they compare to my perfect wife at home?” Lilian’s back stiffened, her shoulders trembling. I approached her, placing my hands on her tense shoulders, speaking as much to her as to myself. “Do you know what I saw? “I saw that guy who took you to the hospital last time. What’s his name again? Hugh Wilson, right? “What did you call him in there? Cutie? And what did you call me? Moron?” “No, honey, please, let me explain,” she pleaded. “Moron?” I echoed, my voice rising. “What a thoughtful nickname! Should I act foolishly to match it?” My eyes, red and swollen, throbbed with pain as I fixed my gaze on her guilty face, her eyes brimming with tears, but I couldn’t shed a single tear. Why? I kept asking myself. Why? Why was I the one who’d been devoted to her while she could smile at me and sleep with other men just two months after she lost the baby? “You said you weren’t feeling well, so I didn’t touch you!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “There were twelve condoms in that box! Twelve!” The pain in my chest felt like a thorn, twisting and digging deeper into my spine. Lilian collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. She clutched at the hem of my pants, her voice breaking as she pleaded for a chance to explain. “What’s there to explain?” I yelled. “Going to another man’s house for a late-night snack? What did you use? A condom? “Let’s get a divorce, Lilian.”

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  • Affectionate late

    It had been three years since I married Anthony Bartlett. After a difficult labor that lasted a whole day and night, I finally gave birth to our daughter. But when Anthony took the baby from the nurse, he named her Bonnie Bartlett. I stiffened on the delivery bed. I knew that Anthony’s ex-girlfriend was named Barbara Dorsey. During my postpartum recovery, I received a video. In it, a drunk Anthony complained to his ex about my body, about how I had changed, and about the unpleasant smell of breast milk. He said that while he married me, his heart would always belong to her. I looked at my daughter’s peaceful sleeping face in her swaddling blanket, and Anthony had no idea that this time, I was done. I didn’t want him or his love anymore. ***** It was the fifteenth day after I gave birth. Anthony hadn’t come back once. It all started when I fought desperately on the delivery bed to stop Anthony from naming our daughter Bonnie. He looked at me in disappointment and said, “It is just a name. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” But I couldn’t accept it. Why should I? Why did Anthony think he could name our daughter after the woman he still longed for? Even though I nearly bled to death on that bed because of the stress, Anthony still went ahead and registered our daughter under the name Bonnie Bartlett while I was being rushed into ICU for emergency care. I was left alone at home, holding our daughter in her swaddling blanket. Barbara had once said that postpartum recovery wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be. Her friend had managed just fine looking after her own child on her own. So, Anthony thought it was fine to refuse to hire a postpartum nurse for me. “Nina, my Nina,” I whispered softly, calling my daughter by the nickname I had chosen for her. I tried to feed her, but because of everything that had happened, I had no milk left. Nina cried loudly from hunger. At that moment, I couldn’t hold back any longer and broke down, crying along with her. Anthony and I had met when we were both volunteering at an orphanage. From the moment he saw me, he started pursuing me. But no matter how kind he was, I never felt anything for him. It wasn’t until the time when I was harassed by some thugs because of work and Anthony risked his life to protect me that I slowly started to accept him. I was an orphan. Anthony made me feel what it was like to be loved and cared for. He told me he loved my kindness the most. But after we married, I realized that the reason Anthony had pursued me wasn’t because of who I was. It was because my eyes looked really like Barbara’s. How laughable. Both I and our daughter had become tools for Anthony to miss Barbara. Anthony and Barbara had been college sweethearts. But when they were about to get married, Barbara left him to pursue opportunities abroad. To my surprise, not only did Anthony not hate her, but he continued to cherish her as his true love, the perfect love he could never forget. I heard footsteps at the door, and the door opened. It was Anthony coming back. I was about to call out for help when my arms, sore from holding Nina day and night for the past two weeks, finally gave in. My body ached all over, and my eyes were red from exhaustion. I was barely holding it together. “Anthony, Nina… she…” Anthony frowned. “What Nina? I told you already her name is Bonnie Bartlett. I really don’t get it. Why are you so petty over a name?” “Look at this place, it’s a mess. And Bonnie’s crying. Don’t you know how to take care of her?” My eyes filled with tears. I wanted to argue with him. But I had barely eaten anything nutritious in days, and I was completely drained. “I don’t have milk. Could you please make some soup for me?” I weakly pleaded. Anthony’s parents had never cared about me because I was an orphan, and since I had only given birth to a daughter, they never even bothered to visit. They hadn’t come to see Nina once. I thought that by asking Anthony for help, he would remember his responsibilities as a father and stay to take care of our child.

    Anthony frowned in irritation. “Didn’t you bring this on yourself? And it’s just soup. You could have made it yourself.” Without waiting for me to say anything, Anthony turned and walked out. “Anthony.” I shouted his name, but all I heard in response was the loud slam of the door. Anthony was gone. I held my daughter tightly in my arms, suddenly remembering what Anthony had said when we were deeply in love, that for the rest of our lives, he would do everything in his power to make sure I never shed a tear. I had always been afraid of loneliness. When Anthony proposed, he promised to give me a home so that I would never be alone again. But now, the sound of my daughter crying made me anxious. At that moment, I felt lost, and a bitter thought crossed my mind, “What does marriage really bring to a woman? Is this really the home I’ve always dreamed of?” I had no choice but to order takeout, asking for formula and soup. When the delivery arrived, I dragged my aching body to get it, but as I was preparing the formula for my daughter in the room, I saw a post from Barbara on Twitter. [Thanks to my knight for spending two hours making this soup just for me.] In the photo, Anthony wore an apron, looking at Barbara with a tenderness he had never shown me. I suddenly felt pathetic and foolish. The cries of Nina, hungry and helpless, and my own struggles with postpartum recovery, Anthony ignored them all. He didn’t care that I barely survived after being rushed into ICU, and he couldn’t even be bothered to make me a simple bowl of soup, yet he was willing to cook for Barbara, healthy and well. It made sense, though. From the start, I was nothing more than a stand-in for Anthony. He didn’t love me. And naturally, he didn’t love our daughter either. I finished making the formula for my daughter and then forced myself to drink the soup, but tears still dropped into it, one after another. I still made myself drink it. I knew I couldn’t break down. Since Anthony, as Nina’s father, didn’t love her, I had to love her enough for both of us. That night, after finally managing to get Nina to sleep, I received a video from an anonymous number. I clicked on it. The video showed Anthony, drunk, holding Barbara while complaining about me. “Diane Heath is useless. She can’t manage anything. She just lets Bonnie cry, and her body’s gotten out of shape. She doesn’t even care to manage it. And don’t get me started on the horrible smell of milk stains on her when I get close. “I really regret choosing her. “If I hadn’t felt sorry for her being an orphan, I never would’ve married her. She’s ungrateful, and now she’s making such a scene.” When I heard Anthony say that, my blood seemed to freeze. He actually disliked me because I was an orphan. But when we first met, I had never hidden that I was an orphan. I thought, “Yes, I am an orphan. But I’ve never given up on myself, never wallowed in self-pity. After growing up, I became an executive in a company because of my excellent grades and work skills.” I didn’t need Anthony to survive. I was doing just fine on my own. I looked down at my stomach, which still had some extra fat. Anthony was right. My body had changed, but I had just given birth to our daughter. I hadn’t even started postpartum recovery yet. Did he expect me to lose weight by risking my life? I didn’t understand how everything had turned out this way. It was Anthony who had forced me to quit my high-paying executive job when he found out I was pregnant, promising to care for me and the child for the rest of our lives. In the video, Anthony held Barbara even tighter. He said his heart would always belong to her and that he only stayed with me out of a sense of responsibility. I nearly collapsed as I watched the video, but I covered my mouth to stifle the sobs, not wanting to wake Nina. [Diane, I suggest you let me know when to quit. If it weren’t for the fact that you look like me, Anthony would never have even looked at you.] I knew it was Barbara’s provocation.

    The next day, Anthony finally returned, but he brought Barbara with him. As soon as Barbara stepped through the door, she shot me a disdainful look. However, in front of Anthony, she continued to pretend to be friendly toward me. “Bonnie, come let me hug you.” She called Nina’s name, but her gaze was full of longing as she looked at Anthony. I held Nina tightly, giving her a cold stare. Barbara pretended to get teary-eyed as if she were hurt. “Anthony, I think Diane doesn’t like me. If you want, I can just leave right now.” Anthony, naturally, couldn’t stand seeing Barbara upset. He glared at me in disapproval. “Diane, how can you be so unreasonable? Don’t you know that Barbara brought a ton of gifts just to see you today? “You don’t even know how to say thank you, and now you’re making a scene.” I looked at Anthony sadly. “Why should I thank her? Should I thank her for abandoning you to go abroad? Or thank her for trying to ruin our marriage after you got married and had a child?” “Diane, you’ve got it all wrong. I’ve already cleared things up with Anthony.” At the mention of the past, Barbara ran out of the room crying. Anthony tried to follow, but I stopped him with a sharp voice. “Anthony, I just want to ask you one thing. When you decided to marry me, was it because I looked like Barbara, or did you actually love me, even just a little? “If you love me, then don’t leave. Stay here with me and Nina, okay? She’s still so small, and she needs you.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I set aside my pride and pleaded with him. I begged for just a shred of love from Anthony. “I do love you…” Anthony hesitated, his eyes clouded with doubt. He had intended to stay, but when he saw a message from Barbara hinting at something like suicide, he became anxious instantly. His gaze toward me turned full of contempt. “Diane, this is all your fault. If something happens to Barbara, I swear I won’t let you off the hook.” Without another word, Anthony turned and walked away. The house was left in silence, just me and Nina. In the middle of the night, I was half awake when I suddenly smelled a strong, choking odor of smoke. Nina started crying as well. That was when I realized something was wrong. I grabbed Nina and tried to open the door, but I found the doorknob burning hot. I remembered some fire safety tips I’d learned on social media and immediately realized the fire had already reached outside our door. After calling 911, I instinctively dialed Anthony for help. But after several calls, he still didn’t answer. Nina was crying from inhaling the smoke, and my heart ached as I held her close. “Why isn’t he answering the phone? Anthony, please pick it up. Please, save me and Nina.” The fire had damaged the electricity, and just as my phone was about to die, Anthony finally picked up. I was about to speak when he shouted angrily at me first. “Diane, what’s wrong with you? Don’t you know that Diane has a fever? I finally managed to get her to sleep, and you keep calling.” “No, Anthony, there’s a fire at home. Please come back. I’m scared, and Nina keeps crying.” My body trembled uncontrollably. But Anthony’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Diane, are you enjoying playing these games? And by the way, my daughter’s name is Bonnie. Nina? That’s not my daughter.” At this point, I didn’t care to argue with him anymore. “It’s really a big fire, Anthony. Me and the baby are trapped inside. Please come back and help us. I’m begging you, please save our daughter.” As I saw smoke seeping into the room from under the door, my voice became more desperate. But then, through the phone, I heard Barbara’s weak voice calling out to Anthony. Then Anthony hung up the phone, and I couldn’t get through to him again. I held Nina in my arms and rushed into the restroom, desperately stuffing a towel in the crack of the door, but the thick smoke still seeped in little by little. Even though I pressed a damp towel over Nina’s nose and mouth, she was just a baby. I could hear her cries growing fainter and fainter, and my heart sank further into despair. Just when I thought Nina and I would die here, the restroom door was suddenly pushed open from the outside. The firefighters had arrived just in time, saving both Nina and me. The next day, when Anthony received the news and rushed to the hospital, he saw me in the ICU. His eyes lit up with relief, and he immediately hugged me. “Diane, I’m so glad you’re alright. What about Bonnie? How is she?” Slap… Before he could finish his sentence, I slapped him hard across the face. “Diane, how could you hit me?” Anthony turned his face away in shock, his eyes filled with disbelief. But I felt utterly drained. I was so tired… I didn’t want to love Anthony anymore. The fire that trapped us in the house made me realize that Anthony’s heart had always been with Barbara. I couldn’t pull him back, and I didn’t want to. This time, I didn’t want anything from him, neither him nor his heart. “Anthony, let’s get a divorce.” I closed my eyes, unwilling to look at him anymore.

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  • Second option

    At the engagement party, my fiancé ditched me and ran off with his childhood sweetheart. Later, his best friend came to see me. “How about a new groom? Dare to marry me instead?” he asked me. I ended up getting my marriage certificate with Ethan Clarke. Samuel North was furious. “Selina Shaw, how dare you do this?” Ethan hugged my waist and chuckled, “I proposed it. What’s wrong?” ***** At the engagement party, Samuel’s childhood friend suddenly fainted. He was all worried. “I’ll take Lily to the hospital.” In front of everyone, he picked up Lily Green and left the hall. I dragged my dress and chased them to the door. “Samuel, can you ask a friend to take Lily to the hospital? If you leave now, what am I supposed to do?” Samuel glared at me, disgusted. “Selina, you’re so selfish. You only care about yourself when Lily’s like this.” Then he drove off without looking back. Because of my fiance’s exit, the engagement party was a disaster. I became the biggest joke of the night. Later that evening, I checked Lily’s posts. It said, “It was just low blood sugar. Thanks to his help. He took such good care of me.” The photo was a selfie of her leaning on Samuel’s shoulder. I waited on the couch the whole night. By morning, Samuel finally came back, looking exhausted. He stared at the empty dining table, annoyed. “It’s so late. Where’s breakfast?” I looked at him and calmly said, “I thought you’d already eaten with Lily.” Samuel frowned. “Lily was not feeling well, so of course I was looking after her. Why do you have to be so sarcastic? “I’ve already promised to marry you. Can you just be reasonable? Stop acting like a jealous mess. It’s making me tired.” I only said one thing, and Samuel lost his temper. He snapped, “Selina, if you keep being paranoid and making a scene, we’re done.” He was all over me like I’d done something unforgivable. We’d been together for three years, and every time we fought, I always ended up apologizing first. But this time, I didn’t feel the usual pain or reluctance. I looked at him and muttered, “Let’s break up.” Samuel froze. “Say that again?” I repeated slowly, “I said, let’s break up.” He laughed in disbelief, his voice full of mockery, “Selina, remember what you’re saying right now. Don’t come crawling back to me begging for forgiveness in a couple of days.” That was how he saw me—someone begging for his attention. I’d fallen for Samuel at first sight and chased him for a whole year until he accepted me. All his friends knew I couldn’t live without him. They also knew that he didn’t love me as much as I loved him. I didn’t care. Even though he was always cold to me, I naively believed that one day, he would be touched. That was until Lily came back from abroad. That’s when I realized Samuel could be gentle and considerate to someone. He ignored me, who was waiting in the rain, just to give Lily an umbrella. He forgot that I didn’t eat onions but remembered that Lily liked her coffee with no sugar. He forgot our anniversary but remembered the promise he made to Lily when they were kids. He threw the birthday gift I made for him in the trash but showed off the tie Lily picked for him. My best friend had once told me, “You won’t stop until you hit rock bottom.” Now, I finally hit the rock and felt the pain.

    The next day, I went to a bar alone to drink away my boredom. My best friend sent me a voice message. In the audio, someone asked Samuel, “I heard you and Selina broke up again?” Samuel replied, “Same old trick. She’s always so dramatic and needy.” “Don’t be like that. You can tell she loves you.” “I don’t need her love.” His dismissive tone hurt my feelings. Someone said, “Bet you anything. She’ll come back to you within a week.” Another said, “A week’s too long. I bet three days.” They burst into laughter. Another voice cut through the laughter. “Samuel, you’re crossing the line.” The room fell silent. Then, Samuel teased him, “Ethan, if you like Selina, you can have her.” I rubbed my sore eyes, not wanting to hear anymore. I immediately deleted the recording. It wasn’t worth being upset over someone like him. From a nearby booth came a burst of laughter. I looked over and saw Samuel kissing Lily passionately. After a while, they finally noticed me. I stood up to leave, but Samuel followed me. “Selina, had enough of the drama?” He sounded annoyed. “We were just playing a game. Lily and I were just messing around.” Lily came over, looking pitiful. “Selina, if you’re mad, blame me. I lost the game.” “You don’t need to apologize, Lily,” Samuel said, shielding her. Turning back to me, he said, “Selina, play nice. I’ll give you an out now. If you don’t take it, I won’t offer one again.” His tone was threatening, but I just found it funny. “Samuel, have you lost your memory?” I sneered, looking at him. “We’re broken up. Your offer isn’t something I need.” Walking out of the bar, I bumped into someone’s chest. I looked up and saw Ethan. He was Samuel’s friend, and we’d become friends over the past couple of years. On the way back, Ethan asked, “Are you really going through with the breakup?” I nodded without hesitation, then laughed awkwardly, “Guess I won’t be a bride this year.” Not long ago, I had sworn to Ethan that I would marry Samuel this year. Now, this was a slap in the face. Ethan lit a cigarette and asked, “How about a new groom?” I blinked. “What?” He looked at me seriously. “Dare to marry me? I was stunned. He added, “How about a bet? Marry me and see what happens.” His voice was almost hypnotic. Before I could respond, he’d already stubbed out his cigarette and pressed me against the passenger seat, kissing me. The next morning, before I was even fully awake, Ethan dragged me to City Hall, where I ended up registering for marriage with him. ***** Samuel stared at the empty cigarette box, feeling agitated. He thought, “Selina hasn’t come home for three days. It seems she’s really mad this time. But so what? In the end, she will come back and beg me to forgive her.” Samuel hesitated for a moment and sent me a message: [Lily’s birthday is the day after tomorrow. Want to come with me?] I replied soon: [Okay.] Samuel couldn’t help but feel smug. In his view, I couldn’t live without him.

    On the weekend, Ethan asked me to join him for a dinner gathering. I went along, but I didn’t expect it to be Lily’s birthday party. At the door to the private room, Ethan asked, “If you don’t want to go in, I can take you away now.” I shook my head and pushed open the door. Lily was flirting with Samuel. When she saw me, she looked surprised. “Selina, I didn’t know you’d come. Let me have the waiter bring another set of utensils.” Samuel eyed me and Ethan suspiciously. “How did you two meet?” Ethan smiled, “Selina is my wife now.” Samuel jumped up. “What nonsense are you talking about? Selina, you agreed to come to Lily’s birthday to team up with Ethan to mess with me? How childish!” I was confused. I’d never agreed to that. Ethan took my hand. “Oh, Selina was in the shower, so I replied for her.” Samuel raised his fist as if to hit Ethan, but one of his friends stopped him. Although they usually joked around, Ethan was the only heir to Clarke Group, and his status was even higher than that of Samuel, who had assets worth hundreds of millions of dollars. None of the men there dared offend him. Ethan remained calm. “You didn’t cherish what you had, so don’t act like you’re all sentimental now.” Samuel turned livid. “Selina, how could you betray me?” It was rare to see Samuel lose control like this, and I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. I smirked. “What? You and Lily can act all lovey-dovey, but I can’t marry someone else? Your double standards are really impressive.” Lily immediately turned on the drama, her face full of grievance. “Samuel and I are innocent. How could you slander us like this? If you keep making up rumors, I won’t welcome you anymore.” I rolled my eyes. “Do you think I care about staying here and watching you two fake it?” I followed Ethan out of the room, and behind us, we heard Samuel’s angry curses and the sound of dishes smashing. Ethan pinched my cheek. “You did well.” I was a little annoyed. “Did you bring me here on purpose?” Ethan smiled, “Just wanted those guys to know that now, you’re Mrs. Clarke.” The title hit me like a punch to the gut. All my annoyance disappeared in an instant, replaced by warmth. The next day, after work, Samuel blocked me at the company entrance. He demanded, “Are you really with Ethan?” I didn’t hide anything. “We’ve already registered our marriage. As for the wedding, he’ll invite you once the date is set.” “To hell with the wedding!” Samuel yelled hysterically. “I won’t allow it. You’re mine. The one you love is me. “Are you just upset that I left you at the engagement party? I’ll marry you. You can go and divorce Ethan now. I promise I’ll marry you tomorrow.” I was stunned. If I had heard this a week ago, I would’ve laughed in my sleep. But now, hearing these words, I just felt like laughing. “Samuel, it’s too late,” I said calmly. “I don’t love you anymore.” Samuel grabbed my arm. “We’ve been together for three years. You’re really that heartless?” I closed my eyes. “You know it has been three years. Do you even remember how you treated me?” Samuel fell silent. His hands dropped weakly. “So, you won’t forgive me, right?” he asked. I didn’t answer, but I turned and walked away firmly. Samuel called after me, and I stopped in my tracks. I heard him sneer, “You think Ethan cares about you? Don’t be stupid. He’s just using you.”   Honestly, I was just as confused as everyone else about why Ethan chose me. I’d known him for three years, and I’d never heard of him showing interest in any girl. Samuel and his group always joked about it, and I had wondered if he just wasn’t into girls. But like Ethan said, “Take a bet?” I was willing to take the risk. After losing for three years, I didn’t care if I’d lose again. Ethan and I had a flash marriage. I hadn’t even met his family. Everything I knew about him came from what I’d heard from Samuel and the others. Ethan came from a wealthy family, but unlike the other rich young men, he didn’t let his family’s status dictate his life. He chose to start his business and work his way up. After we got our marriage certificate, I moved into his three-room apartment in the city center. Ethan said it was our home. I made dinner and waited for him to come back. Eventually, I felt sleepy and ended up dozing off on the couch. When Ethan woke me up, I groggily asked, “Have you eaten?” He hugged me and said, “Silly girl, it’s already 11. Haven’t you eaten yet?” I glanced at the cold food on the table and nodded. Ethan ruffled my hair and said, “I’ll heat the food. We’ll eat together.” Watching him busy in the kitchen, I felt touched. By this time, he must have already eaten, but he still wanted to sit down and eat with me. Later, Ethan explained, “My dad called me back this afternoon to deal with some things. I forgot to text you.” I told him it was okay. After some thought, I told him about Samuel stopping by to visit me. Ethan immediately flipped me onto the bed and warned, “You’re my wife now. Don’t think about other men.” I laughed and pushed him off. “I wasn’t thinking about him. I was just wondering that since we’ve gotten married, when are we going to introduce our parents to each other?” My parents lived out of town, and this marriage had been so sudden that I hadn’t even had time to tell them I wasn’t marrying Samuel. Ethan froze, then let me go. He faltered, “Let’s wait a bit. I’ll let you know once I’ve arranged it.” I could tell he was just brushing me off. I remembered Samuel’s words and felt bitter inside. ***** When my best friend found out I had married Ethan, she was thrilled. “Selina, you’ve hit the jackpot. He’s the heir to the Clarke family and the dream of every socialite,” she exclaimed. “When’s the wedding? I’m going to prepare a great gift for you.” I awkwardly laughed, “I’m not sure yet.” “What?” she exclaimed. “You’ve got the certificate already, but you haven’t even talked about the wedding?” I felt even more embarrassed. “Actually, we haven’t even met each other’s parents yet.” My friend paused, then seriously said, “Don’t tell me Ethan is gay. Is he using you as a cover for his sexuality?” I thought of how passionate Ethan had been in bed, and my cheeks flushed. “I don’t think so.” My friend was still worried. “Selina, don’t think I’m being nosy, but you know Ethan’s background. If he has some hidden agenda, remember to get out early.” I nodded and reassured her. “Don’t worry. I’m just treating this like a gamble. If it doesn’t work out, we can part on good terms. I can even give up on Samuel, so…” She kept glancing behind me, signaling something. By the time I realized something was wrong, it was too late. I turned around, and there stood Ethan, staring at me unhappily.   The whole way back, Ethan didn’t say a word to me. I felt a bit guilty, but I wasn’t scared at all. The last thing I said to my friend wasn’t a lie. I had loved Samuel for three years. I once thought I could never leave him, but in the end, I let go just like that. Ethan and I ended up together by pure chance. If he asked for a divorce tomorrow, I wouldn’t be surprised. Everyone in this world should be self-dependent. Back home, Ethan didn’t turn on the lights. Instead, he spun me around and pushed me against the wall, kissing me. He was desperate and angry. My legs went weak, and I had to cling to him. When I finally lost consciousness from exhaustion, I couldn’t help but think, “At least Ethan’s desire for me isn’t fake.” ***** In the following days, Ethan didn’t come home. We silently started our first post-marriage cold war. This was nothing new to me. In the past, whenever Samuel was upset, he would give me the silent treatment. It could last ten days or even half a month. I had been used to it by now. What caught me off guard was that my parents suddenly came to see me. When I rushed to the hotel, I found them laughing and chatting with Samuel. My mother waved me over and said happily, “Samuel is so considerate. He knows we’re not used to traveling, so he sent someone to pick us up.” My father wasn’t in great health and couldn’t handle the pace of city life, so my mother had been living with him back in our hometown. I pulled Samuel out of the private room to talk. “Samuel, what are you up to?” Samuel held back his excitement. “Selina, your parents don’t know we’ve broken up yet. You still have feelings for me, don’t you? You married Ethan just to spite me, didn’t you?” I itched to pour some cold water on him to snap him out of it. I said, “Samuel, it’s over between us. When I tell my parents is my business.” He wasn’t willing to let go. “Didn’t I tell you last time? The Clarke family will never accept you.” “That’s between Ethan and me. You don’t need to worry about it, Mr. North.” Samuel fumed, pacing back and forth before finally giving in. “Fine, but at least today, let’s have a nice dinner with your parents, okay?” Since my parents had just traveled a long way, and they seemed so happy, I didn’t want to ruin their mood by telling them the truth right now. I thought about it and agreed to Samuel’s suggestion. During dinner, Samuel kept taking out his phone, acting distracted. When we were almost done eating, he suggested he drive us home. I linked arms with my parents as we left the private room, but then we ran into someone coming from the opposite direction. I was stunned. The middle-aged couple walking ahead of us had an air of sophistication, but I didn’t recognize them. However, the person following them was none other than Ethan, whom I hadn’t seen for several days. And next to him, a young, beautiful girl was clinging to his arm. The two of them moved with a level of intimacy that couldn’t be more obvious.

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  • My fiancé called me by the wrong name at the wedding

    On the day of our wedding, my fiancé Kendrick Freguson called me by the wrong name. “I love you, Cecelia,” he said without hesitation. I froze. Cecelia Atkinson was the name of his first love. A murmur swept through the crowd. Furious, I threw my bouquet and called off the wedding. When we met again later, I was pushed up against the car door by a man and kissed so fiercely I could hardly breathe. Kendrick was seething as he shouted, “I thought we were good friends, and you went behind my back and stole my fiancée?” Frederic Haywood, holding me by the waist, chuckled, “If it weren’t for Kristine, you really think you could be my friend?” ***** At the wedding venue, the officiant asked, “Mr. Freguson, at this moment, what would you like to say to your bride?” I stood beside Kendrick, holding my bouquet, smiling sweetly. To my surprise, my fiancé Kendrick said, “I love you, Cecelia.” Silence fell over the room. I was stunned. The officiant, sensing the quiet, continued, “There seems to be a lack of applause. Mr. Freguson, your voice is a bit too soft. Let’s try that again. Speak loudly, declare your love for the bride.” “I love you, Cecelia!” His voice was firm and commanding. The officiant glanced at his notes, then asked, “What’s your bride’s name?” “Ce…” Kendrick suddenly realized, and his voice trailed off. The crowd broke into murmurs. Just moments ago, everyone had been brimming with congratulations. Now, whispers filled the air, and people occasionally shot glances at me, sizing me up and sneering. My hand, still clutching the bouquet, trembled. “Kendrick, what does it mean? Why do you call your ex’s name?” I asked, barely containing my rage. His eyes flickered with panic, but he quickly took my hand and smiled, “I got distracted, Kristine. I didn’t mean it. “I was just a little out of it from staying up too late last night.” I pulled my hand away, the emotions I had kept buried finally flooding to the surface. “Was your mind so off that you confessed her name twice? “If you’re still hung up on your ex and don’t want to marry me, just say so!” Kendrick was usually hot-headed, and I had always been the one to give in. But now, I had no patience left. His brow furrowed, his voice growing irritated. “You know exactly how this marriage came about, don’t you?” Cecelia was Kendrick’s girlfriend in college. Not long ago, there were rumors they were rekindling their romance. I didn’t take it to heart. But hearing him say this, I swallowed my tears and forced a smile. I felt like a fool for the past few years. We had grown up together. Our families had always been close. After graduation, we were both single, and our parents naturally arranged for us to marry. He never objected. I felt there would be something special about childhood friendships. Seeing that he didn’t oppose, I secretly felt pleased. I thought Cecelia was just a chapter of his past. Now I realized… she was the one he could never forget. Seeing that Kendrick was about to fly off the handle, Ophelia Freguson, Kendrick’s mother, quickly came over and grabbed my hand. “Kristine, he just got distracted. He didn’t do it on purpose.” I shook my head, pushing her hand away. “Mrs. Freguson, this wedding can’t continue.” Ophelia tried again. “He just cares about his pride, Kristine. He didn’t mean to hurt you. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bully you. “After the wedding, if you have a son, we will transfer two percent of Freguson Group shares to your name.” My parents, whose faces had been dark with tension, seemed to soften at that. Kendrick’s father, Jerrold Freguson, slapped Kendrick across the face. “Apologize to Kristine. You can’t act like this at your wedding!” Kendrick staggered back from the slap, rubbing his cheek and muttering, “Whatever, I don’t care about this wedding!” I clenched my bouquet, feeling like a joke. My groom called out his ex’s name twice during the wedding, and this was something I couldn’t get past. I threw my bouquet aside, snatched the microphone from the officiant, and without regard for the crowd, I declared the wedding canceled. Then, lifting my dress, I stormed out. Ophelia tried to stop me, but Kendrick tore the boutonniere off his suit and threw it to the ground. “Let her go! Kristine, if you dare to leave, then don’t come crying to me and beg me to get back together!”

    Ophelia, seeing Kendrick in a fit of rage and me announcing the cancellation of the wedding right in front of them, grew angry. “Kristine, if you leave now, it will be harder to come back.” She was hinting at something. I pushed her hand away and walked out without looking back. Given what had happened, it wasn’t surprising Ophelia thought I wouldn’t easily give up on Kendrick. They all knew I had liked him since childhood. No matter what rumors or scandals surrounded him, I always shrugged them off. Whenever there was friction between us, I was the one to apologize first. I even defended his reputation in front of the media. When the rumors about him and Cecelia resurfaced, I firmly said, “I believe in him”. Hearing that, they all believed I was head over heels for Kendrick. Little did they know that relationships require mutual effort. My best friend, Ophelia Russell, followed me out of the venue, scolding Kendrick while trying to comfort me. “It’s fine. The world isn’t just about Kendrick. Come on, Kristine, let’s go relax!” I wiped my tears and nodded. But before I could leave, my parents called, scolding me, “The Freguson family is offering two percent of the shares, and you’re running away? Every man fools around before marriage. They all come back to the family in the end. “You’ve been living under our roof all these years. Don’t you think you should consider your family before making such a huge decision?” A chill ran through me. I had always done what they expected, been the obedient daughter at home and the graceful lady outside. Our family wasn’t any worse than the Fregusons. Now, I was publicly humiliated, yet my parents wanted me to bow my head. I wouldn’t compromise. I had my own dignity. I didn’t want to listen to them anymore, so I hung up and turned off my phone. That same day, I flew to Celadonia with Ophelia. When we landed, Ophelia, worried I might still be thinking about Kendrick, leaned in and whispered, “Kendrick posted on his Twitter yesterday, announcing his relationship with Cecelia. You should see the picture. She’s sitting on his lap, kissing him. Those two have clearly been together for a while. “Kristine, you can’t keep thinking about that scumbag.” I smiled weakly, “I won’t. Now that the wedding is canceled, he and I have nothing to do with each other.” One night was enough for me to figure everything out. I realized his heart had never been with me, and I was just a pawn in a family alliance. “Let go when you need to,” Ophelia said, giving me a thumbs-up. ***** We took a short rest at the hotel, and Ophelia, happy to see me feeling better, took me to the beach for a little sunshine. As I basked in the warmth, I felt a gaze on me. I took off my sunglasses and turned, only to be met with a burning gaze. A man was staring at me intensely. The heat of his gaze made my heart race. I quickly averted my eyes. I knew that man. He was Frederic Haywood, Kendrick’s best friend. I thought, “What is he doing here?” Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen him at the wedding. Frederic was different from Kendrick. He was said to be a wealthy heir from Zephyria, yet he was reserved and low-key. Somehow, he and the playboy Kendrick had become good friends. While I was lost in thought, Ophelia waved to Frederic, then whispered in my ear, “He’s been asking about you for a while. “He heard about your canceled wedding and came all the way from Zephyria overnight. He’s rich, handsome, and has status. He’s so much better than Kendrick. You should go for him, girl!” “Frederic, Kristine’s been wanting to learn jet skiing. Why don’t you teach her?” With that, Ophelia winked at me meaningfully, took a sip of her juice, and walked away, leaving us alone. A tall figure suddenly entered my field of vision, taking the spot where Ophelia had been lying just moments ago. His deep voice slid into my ear. “It’s my honor.”

    The sea breeze lightly brushed my ankles, bringing a refreshing chill. However, the heat radiating from the man behind me was so intense it seemed like it might melt me. Though Frederic was on friendly terms with Kendrick, he was known in our circle as a man of few words and a cold demeanor. Whenever I’d run into him in the past, he’d merely nod politely, his eyes showing no sign of favoritism. It was clear he never thought of me in any special way. I never expected that, now, he would… “Don’t space out,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear as he leaned in closer. He was controlling the jet ski, standing behind me, our bodies pressed tightly together. The heat from his back seemed to flow through me like an electric current, making my cheeks flush hotter and hotter. “Relax, focus on the ripples in the water,” he continued. “Don’t worry about falling. We’re both wearing life vests. “I won’t let anything happen to you…” Before he could finish, he suddenly turned sharply, following the wave’s curve. I lost my balance and tumbled backward right into his arms. His burning gaze met mine. The jet ski slowly came to a stop, and the sound of the waves seemed to fade away. The atmosphere around us felt almost romantic. I suddenly felt that maybe it was time to turn the page and give myself a fresh start. I was drawn to the undeniable charm of the man before me. I found myself staring at Frederic’s reddened ears, my hand gripping his arm as I leaned in to meet his lips… In the hotel room, Frederic held my waist tightly, spinning me around and pressing me against the door of the presidential suite. His presence was commanding, and the intensity of our emotions collided. It felt passionate. His kiss, burning and relentless, felt as though he was drowning me, little by little. I was in a daze. Frederic restrained himself, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “Kristine…” he murmured my name, lifting his head to look me in the eyes. “I’ve been thinking about you for a long time. Are you sure about this?” My gaze was hazy as I pulled his head down and wrapped my arms around his neck. We spent a passionate together. The next morning, I woke up groggily, pushing his large hand off my waist and flipping over to turn on my phone. The screen lit up with a flood of messages. As if she had predicted I would turn on my phone at this moment, my mom’s urgent call rang out. I frowned and sighed but answered anyway. My mom said, “Where have you been? I don’t approve of you and Kendrick breaking off your engagement. This marriage between our families isn’t a joke. You need to come back now.” I replied, “Mom, didn’t you see? He already announced his new girlfriend on social media.” Sometimes, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was even their real daughter. “Mrs. Freguson told me she only recognizes you as Kendrick’s wife. No one else can marry Kendrick.” I was exhausted. “It’s a pity I am not marrying Mrs. Freguson. Mom, our family isn’t so desperate that you need to sell your daughter, right?” She wanted to say more, but I couldn’t bear to listen. I ended the call abruptly. A strong arm wrapped around my waist, and with a quick motion, Frederic turned me to face him. He smiled and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Don’t be upset. No one can force you to do anything.” I thought he was joking and grinned. “You can’t, either?” “I can’t.” As we spoke, his hand moved, slipping under the covers… I pulled his hand away, grabbed the clothes nearby, and walked into the bathroom. He followed me closely. An hour later, he was content, holding me as we stepped out. I felt exhausted, both sleepy and drained. The phone by my side kept buzzing. He grabbed it, muting it. “I muted it.” I nodded and, after telling him the password, tilted my head to fall asleep. Frederic’s eyes shifted to the phone, where a new message popped up. [I was just messing around with Cecelia! You’re the one who announced the wedding cancellation so publicly and embarrassed me. You’ve made your point; now get back here!] Frederic read the message impassively, then swiftly deleted it with a flick of his finger.

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  • I don’t want to raise this nephew anymore

    I didn’t have children of my own, so I treated my nephew, Grady Anderson as if he were my flesh and blood. But when I was hospitalized with terminal cancer, Grady yanked out my oxygen tube and whispered in my ear, “Good riddance! Finally, you’re going to die.” He said my death would be a blessing for the entire family and that everyone would be happy about it. I stared at my family as they forced me to sign over my property, and in the smiles of my family, I died with my eyes wide open. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the time when Grady had just been born. My family told me, “This child has a special constitution and is extremely allergic. “Since you’re a doctor, you must take good care of him. Besides, you have no children, so he’ll take care of you in your old age.” However, I have different thoughts. This time, I would fight back! I looked coldly at the infant in the swaddling cloth. “I’m a doctor, indeed, but I do brain surgeries to treat diseases. So, should I dig into his brain to treat his allergies?” I paid no attention to Grady, but when he grew up, he came to me, crying and pleading, “Aunt Kaley, please take me in.” I had been reborn to the time when Grady had just been born. My family was beaming with joy as they gazed at the baby in the swaddle. Grady was diagnosed with severe allergies right after birth. The doctors said that ninety percent of the foods people would normally eat could potentially kill him. So, when it came time to raise the child, the family thought long and hard and decided to turn to me, the woman they had long abandoned because I couldn’t have children. Grady’s mother, Minna Anderson, pretended to be affectionate as she said, “Kaley, you’re a doctor. You must know a lot while I know nothing. You’ll have to take extra care of this child.” My brother, Baxter Anderson, grinned from ear to ear, clearly pleased. “Kaley will. She’s his aunt. She can’t have kids, and when Grady grows up, he’ll take care of her.” Before I could say anything, my mother, Norah Anderson, in a tone as if it were the most natural thing in the world, said, “Grady was hard-won by Minna, and since you’re a doctor and understand more than anyone, we’re leaving Grady in your hands. “If anything goes wrong, you’ll be the one to blame.” When Grady was born in my previous life, I finally had a legitimate place in the family and was given high expectations. Back then, looking at the tiny baby, sucking on his thumb, I felt my heart nearly melted. At that time, I ignored the cruel words of my family. I was full of joy, thinking to myself that little Grady was the only pure one in this family. I wanted to take good care of him and help him grow up healthy. Eventually, he did grow up. However, he turned into an ungrateful person. In the end, he ripped out my oxygen tube and killed me with a big smile. This time, I stared at the baby and said coldly, “I’m a doctor, indeed, but I do brain surgeries to treat diseases. So should I dig into his brain to treat his allergies?”

    Baxter glared at me and scolded, “Kaley, don’t be ungrateful. Grady is your nephew. You’re just a woman no one wants, and you won’t ever have children. What’s going to happen when you get old, and my son won’t take care of you?” I replied, “Heh, I survived without parents, so what’s there to fear about? This child has a father and a mother. Without my care, he would still be alive.” My mother raised her hand to slap me, but I stopped her. She shot me a venomous look. “How dare you curse my grandson? You slut! I should have drowned you at birth. “Now, you’re a doctor, all high and mighty. Do the people at the hospital know you’re a freak who can’t have children?” Normally, no one would believe these were the words my mother spoke to her long-lost daughter. I had heard such venomous insults all my life. When my family had been discussing selling me off to the butcher in the next village, I had been standing at the door, happily holding my college admission letter. I couldn’t have children, so my family always called me a burden. So, I worked hard, studied, and earned scholarships so that I could support myself in the future without having to rely on anyone. I knew the butcher from the next village. He was an alcoholic who liked to beat his wife, and he had already driven two of them away. He had two sons and wanted me to be the stepmother of his children. “Since I couldn’t have kids, it would be easy for him to find an excuse to treat me however he pleased. I gripped my admission letter tightly, hearing their plan. That night, I ran away. I never expected to run into them at the hospital again. They recognized me and, with sweet words, tried to convince me to continue serving them. In my previous life, I was deceived by them. I thought they had changed, so I agreed to help them. I took care of Grady with all my heart and sincerity, only to end up in a situation where the entire family was waiting for me to die. With that in mind, I looked at the scheming family in the hospital room and calmly said, “I have no parents, and I’m not afraid of death. If you keep provoking me, I’ll kill you all, and we can all go down together.” After that unpleasant exchange, they stayed quiet for several days. But soon, Baxter came back, shameless as ever. “Kaley, you’re a doctor now. You must make good money. Grady’s in a sterile chamber, and it spent a lot. You don’t have to take care of him, but you should at least give us something. It doesn’t have to be much. Just thirty or fifty thousand dollars will do.” In my past life, I had been happy to care for Grady. I tried to meet every request that Baxter and Minna made. They said it was all for Grady’s future and that he would repay me when he grew up. I was the fool, burning myself out with late nights and overtime at the hospital to make money. Eventually, I got sick from exhaustion, and then my family changed their tune. They said they didn’t have money to treat me, and with smiles on their faces, they killed me. I rolled my eyes and said to Baxter, “Are you out of your mind? Do you want me to dig a hole in your head, too? I don’t have money for you.” Baxter’s smile faltered, and he was about to lash out, but when he saw the intense gazes of the other doctors in the department, he slunk away, defeated.

    After Baxter left, my mother came looking for trouble again. Her words were still as sharp as ever. “It’s perfectly natural for a mother to ask her child for money. If you don’t give it to me, you’re heartless. “So what if you’re a doctor? I raised you. It’s an honor for you to take care of my grandson. Do you think we can’t manage without you?” I replied, “If you’re so capable, then why are you asking me for money? I became a doctor without your help. He has you guys looking after him, so his future is limitless. But you’d better take good care of him. Don’t let him die too soon.” Perhaps my words hit a nerve, so my mother grabbed onto my legs and dragged me all the way to the hospital lobby, shouting loudly, “Come and see! My grandson has been stuck in a sterile chamber since birth, suffering. “My daughter’s a doctor, but she doesn’t care. She even curses my grandson! She’s a cold-hearted wench who doesn’t even care for her nephew!” As the scene became more chaotic, security guards rushed over. They tried to pull her away, but I stopped them. I put on an act, feigning sadness and frustration, acting as an actor of a pitiful woman who was trying to appear strong in front of the growing crowd. I don’t know this madam, and I’m not sure why she’s suddenly dragging me into this. As you all heard, she’s clearly going through a tough time. I can understand. Maybe she’s so upset she’s mistaken me for someone else. My mother, still struggling under the security guard’s grip, screamed angrily, “You’re lying! I’m your mother! How dare you deny me?” I shook my head, feigning sorrow as I said, “Sorry, but I really don’t know you.” The people around us began to chime in, “Yeah, Ma’am, maybe you’ve got the wrong person?” My mother kept on fighting, furiously saying, “You ungrateful woman! I would never mistake you. You’re a freak, born incapable of having children. People weren’t wrong to call you a monster. Your heart is harder than a stone.” Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed, “Lady, if you really are my mother, how could you curse me like this? I don’t know you. We’re strangers. You can’t just accuse me because you can’t extort money from me…” “Who’s trying to extort money from you? Kaley…” “Lady, my name’s not Kaley. I have the last name Anderson, but it doesn’t mean I’m your daughter.” The people around us saw my name tag clearly, and it read, “Livia Anderson”. The first thing I did after leaving home was change my name. I hoped that my new name, Livia, would give me a fresh start. Ironically, after seeing me so many times, none of my family ever bothered to notice my name. Since I was a child, they had never liked me. No one ever cared about what I truly needed. No one paid any attention to the ramblings of a mad old woman. Her case of mistaken identity became a joke, and it didn’t affect me at all. In fact, it stirred up a protective instinct in many of the patients and nurses. From then on, whenever my mother came near me, the nurses would step in and block her. Over the next few years, I often saw them in the hospital. They always came because of the boy’s allergies. They seemed to have put in a lot of effort to take care of him. They came to the hospital so often that even their clothes always smelled of disinfectant. Minna was holding a five-and-a-half-year-old boy, who was short and skinny, his upper teeth uneven, and his gums were stained dark, looking unhealthy. The boy, who had severe allergies, often ate the wrong foods, causing him to run fevers and vomit frequently. Today, he was sick again, and the family started arguing in the elevator. I stood at the back of the elevator, silently watching the farce unfold with a mask on my face.   Minna cried, accusing my mother, “He can’t eat eggs or milk! Why would you feed them to him? You know he’s allergic!” My mother, angrily slapping her thigh, responded, “How am I supposed to remember everything? Besides, the doctor said it was best not to, but it’s not like he can never eat them. “Eggs and milk are nutritious. If he doesn’t eat them, how will he grow? If my grandson is short, it’s your fault!” My mother always said that, and I’d heard it enough in my past life. When I took care of Grady, I made every effort to keep him away from allergens, but my mother always secretly fed him things he shouldn’t eat. He was young and didn’t understand he couldn’t tolerant specific food. Back then, he insisted on eating whatever he liked, and that had caused endless arguments between my mother and me. Her excuse was always the same. “If he doesn’t eat, how can he get the nutrition? How will he grow taller and fatter? If he’s weak, it’s all your fault.” Back then, while my mother and I argued, Minna would always sit by idly, trying to smooth things over. “Livia, your mother just wants what’s best for Grady. Don’t be too harsh on her. Grady’s fine and that’s all that matters.” Now, watching the two of them argue back and forth, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Once, after my mother fed him something he was allergic to, Grady went into shock from a severe reaction and had to be rushed to the hospital by ambulance. Fate was truly ironic. Every time they came to the hospital, I ended up running into them. I pulled my mask down for a moment to breathe, and that was when Baxter spotted me. He grabbed my wrist urgently. “Livia, I know you hate this family, but Grady’s your nephew. “He’s in critical condition right now. Please arrange a ward for him. We don’t have money left. You can’t just ignore him.” I couldn’t believe their audacity. They actually thought they could guilt-trip me. In my past life, every time Grady was hospitalized, I pulled strings to get him the best wards, spending countless amounts of money. Grady, under my care, was treated like royalty. In my previous life, though Grady was greedy, I’d made every effort to teach him about the dangers of allergens. He never ate anything he was allergic to. But now, he frequently had allergic reactions, his immune system was weak, and he was always on the verge of going into shock. I smiled mockingly, “What’s there to be afraid of? It’s not like he’s going to die.” I leisurely returned to my department, only to overhear the nurses and doctors discussing a child with allergies. As I listened more closely, I realized they were talking about Grady. It turned out that my mother, to cure her grandson, had fallen for a folk remedy. She’d heard that soaking paper mulberry leaves in water could help, so she spent days picking every mulberry tree in the area clean. But after her “treatment,” Grady’s rashes hadn’t improved; they had actually gotten worse, turning into red, swollen lumps. They had delayed going to the hospital until Grady was on the brink of suffocation, and because they were too cheap to spend money, they took him to a small clinic for an IV drip. Grady’s special constitution meant he couldn’t tolerate just any medication. After one dose of an antihistamine, he passed out. Luckily, they acted fast, calling an ambulance to bring him to the hospital in time. “They’re so clueless,” one of the doctors muttered. “How can they just give an allergic child an IV without telling the doctor? It’s like they want to kill him.” “This child really has survived by sheer luck!” Hearing their discussion, I smiled to myself, “It seems like, even if I do nothing this time, Grady will still have a hard time growing up healthy.”   A few days later, I happened to pass by the hospital room and saw Grady weakly leaning against the headboard of his bed while my mother was feeding him a drink. I furrowed my brow as I scanned the room. Just as I’d suspected, Minna wasn’t there. If she were here, she would never let Grady drink this. The drink was packed with artificial colors and flavors. To prevent allergic reactions, I had strictly forbidden Grady from drinking it in my past life. If he really wanted it, I would carefully check the ingredients and try to make it myself, ensuring it was safe and free of contaminants. Grady was insisting on finishing the drink when my mom slyly hid it. She tried to comfort him and said, “Grady, sweetie, your mom doesn’t let you drink this. But I’m the best, so I’m giving it to you secretly. You can’t tell your mom, okay?” Grady pouted, nodding. “Grandma’s the best. Mommy’s a bad guy. She doesn’t love me. I’ll listen to you, Grandma. I want more drink later.” My mom kissed him enthusiastically, beaming. “That’s right, your mom’s a big bad guy. I love you the most. We’ll have more later.” This scene felt oddly familiar from my past life. Back then, I was worn out from taking care of Grady. On one rare day off, after a nap, I woke up to find him covered in hives again. I felt sorry for him, but I still sternly questioned him, “Did your grandma give you something you shouldn’t eat?” Grady stammered, crying, “Aunt Kaley, you are a bad guy. My grandma’s the best. I don’t like you, Aunt Kaley. I like my grandma.” Now, I realized that someone had taught the kid to say those hurtful words. Later, Minna came to me, tearfully telling me that Baxter was having an affair. She begged me to review the hospital’s security footage. “Livia, please, you’re the only one I know here. That woman’s pregnant. Baxter’s a heartless jerk. Norah doesn’t care, and she keeps feeding Grady all the things he shouldn’t eat. I can’t take it anymore.” I looked at Minna, once so poised and fake, now ragged and disheveled from caring for the kids. I said, “I don’t have the authority to access the footage. But if you really want to know, you could follow him. Pregnant women need regular checkups, right? I can help you keep an eye out. If I see them at an appointment, I’ll let you know. “And if you want to handle my mother, I can give you some advice. “See if you’ve got the guts. Next time, my mother secretly gives food to Grady, takes pictures of his rashes, and then gets one of your friends to pretend to be a doctor. Have her say an allergic reaction could be fatal. “Then, post the rash pictures, chat logs, and surveillance footage to the family group, saying my mother tried to kill Grady. You should let everyone know that you’ve warned my mother before, but she still fed your son things that could harm him. “Then, take Grady outside and cry in front of the neighbors. Cry loudly, break some eggs, spill milk, and when someone asks, tell them my mother is trying to kill your son. After a scene like that, she won’t dare to pull anything again.” The next time I saw this family, it was on the news. Minna had completely abandoned her usual hypocritical polite, acting like a wild, frantic woman.

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  • Redemption

    For three years, I cared for Lucas Blake after an accident left him blind. The moment he regained his sight, the first thing he did was propose to Melinda Carter, the woman who had always captured his heart yet seemed forever out of his reach. The entire hospital room fell silent, every pair of eyes darting to me. They all expected me to break down. But instead, I was the first to break into applause and extend my heartfelt wishes for them a lifetime of happiness. I didn’t shed a tear. I didn’t make a scene. I simply walked out of his life and never looked back. It wasn’t until Lucas stumbled upon the medical report confirming my severe depression that he finally called me. “If you come back, I’ll forgive your irrational behavior, and we’ll get you the help you need…” A low chuckle came from the other end of the line. “Mr. Blake, you don’t need to worry about my girlfriend.” ***** Lucas demanded, “Let Melinda stand before me. I want her to be the first person I see when my vision returns.” At those words, I paused in the middle of unwrapping the gauze from his eyes, my own eyes stinging with the threat of tears. Today was the day Lucas was being discharged from the hospital. After three long years, he could finally see the light of day again. But just like a man who threw away his crutches the moment he could walk, the first thing Lucas did with his restored sight was discard me, who had cared for him for three whole years. Melinda stepped forward from the crowd, her eyes brimming with tears. She took his hand and sobbed. “I’m here.” As the last strip of gauze fell to the floor, Lucas dropped to one knee, a radiant smile spreading across his face. “Then will you marry me?” Melinda burst into tears, nodding vigorously. “I do,” she whispered. Suddenly, the room erupted into a burst of cheers, and right there, in front of everyone, they shared a passionate kiss. As I watched the scene unfold, an intense pain gripped my heart. How could Lucas overlook that Melinda had left him when he lost his sight in a cruel accident? At that moment, Melinda’s best friend shot me a mocking glance. “You gave everything and still ended up with nothing. You’ll always lose to our Melinda.” All eyes turned to me, and their gazes were filled with pity and scorn. Even Lucas looked at me with a cold, detached expression. “Helen Jett, this was all just your wishful thinking. Don’t show your face around Melinda again. Or you’ll regret it.” Melinda covered her mouth in feigned surprise and glanced at Lucas. “Lucas, isn’t that a bit harsh? After all, Ms. Jett cares for you so much…” “But the only one I’ve ever loved is you,” Lucas cut in without a moment’s hesitation, pulling Melinda into an even tighter embrace. Seeing this, I let out a derisive snort and forced a smile, but despite my efforts, tears betrayed me, cascading down my cheeks. “Then consider it my own foolishness. Lucas, I wish you happiness.” I didn’t know how I made it home that day. My mind was a blur. I poured myself a glass of water and swallowed a white pill. As I slumped onto the sofa, a soft white ball of fur leaped up beside me. Moon, the cat Lucas and I had raised together, nuzzled against me, purring softly. When Lucas first lost his sight, he had been volatile, lashing out at the slightest provocation and knocking over anything in his path. The doctor suggested that having something to comfort him could greatly improve his condition, so we decided to raise Moon together, hoping she would bring him solace. Sure enough, his mood had stabilized considerably since then. With tears streaming down my face, I gently stroked Moon’s forehead, murmuring, “Now, he doesn’t want you either, does he?” The cat didn’t understand, of course. It just rubbed against me, seeking comfort. I drifted off on the sofa until the sharp sound of the door being unlocked jolted me from my slumber. Lucas walked in, Melinda trailing behind him. He looked down at me with a detached expression. “I’m here to pack my things and take Moon with me.” It hit me then that I was the only one left behind. I took a deep breath, raising my chin to meet his gaze. “No, she’s mine.” It was the first time I’d ever stood up to Lucas. His face darkened, his voice rising in anger as he shouted, “Helen, don’t forget she’s my comfort cat!” I flinched at his tone, my heart pounding. Melinda, who had been standing nearby, stepped forward to defuse the situation. “Lucas, why don’t you go pack your things first? I’ll have a word with Ms. Jett,” she said with a placating tone. Lucas shot me one last glare before disappearing into his room, leaving Melinda and me alone in the living room. She smiled as she approached me step by step. Reaching out, she tried to take Moon from my arms. “I know you raised her together, but Lucas doesn’t want you anymore. “Keeping this cat is just a pathetic attempt to make him notice you, right?” Before I could react, she yanked Moon from my arms. My heart dropped. “What are you doing?” I yelled. Melinda’s smile turned sinister as she tightened her grip on the struggling cat. “You’ll see.” She uttered these words and then quickly dashed to the window. By the time it dawned on me what she intended, it was too late. With no hesitation, she had already hurled Moon out of the window. “Moon!” My heart-wrenching and desperate scream tore through the air as I lunged half out of the window in a frantic attempt to catch the falling cat, but it was beyond my reach. Moon plummeted to the ground, landing with a sickening thud. She didn’t even make a sound.

    Just then, Lucas emerged from the room, drawn by the commotion. His brow furrowed in confusion as he took in the scene before him—I collapsed on the floor, weeping with uncontrollable sorrow. “Lucas, you wouldn’t believe how ruthless Ms. Jett was!” Melinda threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as she pointed an accusing finger in my direction. “Helen said she doesn’t want you to have what she can’t have. “I mean, she literally threw the cat out the window!” She wailed with fabricated sorrow, making it seem as though her words were undeniable truth. Lucas froze and gaped at me in disbelief. “Are you really that cruel? We raised her together!” Through tears, I glanced over at him, whose face contorted with anger. Despite the tension, a laugh escaped my lips. “What are you laughing at?” Lucas asked in confusion. But I felt no urge to explain myself. We had been inseparable, day and night, for three solid years. Everyone else might be in the dark about my feelings for Moon, but how could he, of all people, not understand? Yet, his heart was already devoted to Melinda, so even if I poured out my soul today, explaining with every tear I shed, it would change nothing. No number of words would ever make him believe me. So, I took a deep breath and pushed myself to my feet, swaying slightly as I stood. “Lucas, I truly regret taking care of you for the past three years.” His eyes flickered with a hint of sadness, but it was gone before I could even be sure it was there. I turned away, not wanting to dwell on it anymore, and walked downstairs, leaving them behind. ***** The day Moon was cremated, the rain fell in torrents. I returned home, clutching her ashes in my hands. My eyes were hollow and lifeless. When I opened the door, I expected to see her trotting over to rub against my legs. But there was nothing. Only deafening silence consumed me. For an entire week, I locked myself away, painting frantically at home. It wasn’t until I saw Moon on the canvas that I broke down. My fingers trembled as I traced her image, tears streaming down my face. “I’m sorry. I failed to protect you. It’s all my fault.” The truth was, it wasn’t about letting go of someone that hurt the most. It was the realization that you had misjudged them entirely. ***** Fate had its own plans when I ran into Lucas once more at a birthday bash thrown by a friend we both knew. Melinda clung to his arm with a tender smile, while around them, everyone was already toasting to their future wedding with cheerful anticipation. My best friend, Selena Short, cursed under her breath. “Shameless! If it weren’t for you taking care of him for three years, he’d still be blind!” I smiled and didn’t respond, my eyes full of melancholy. Halfway through the banquet, feeling suffocated, I excused myself and escaped to the tranquility of the back garden. The sound of heels clicking against the pavement grew louder until Melinda appeared in front of me. She beamed with joy. “Helen, didn’t you know we’d be here today? How dare you show your face in front of him? Have you forgotten what happened to the cat in the end?” My heart throbbed with a dull ache as I met her gaze with an indifferent stare. With a sharp slap, I struck her across the face. Melinda turned away, her hand flying to her cheek in shock. She then slowly turned back to me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Did you just hit me?” “I wish I could kill you,” I snapped, hatred burning in my eyes. This wasn’t about Lucas. This was about her taking away Moon, the only source of joy I had left. She lunged at me, and her face twisted with malice. Suddenly, we were locked in a fierce scuffle. The noise we made drew the attention of everyone at the banquet. Just as I had the upper hand, ready to land a punch on her face, a figure dashed forward, shoving me hard to the ground. My neck jolted painfully as I hit the ground. “Melinda! Are you okay?” Lucas yelled and rushed to her side, enveloping her in his arms as he comforted her. With her protector now here, Melinda burst into tears instantly. “Lucas, I didn’t even provoke Helen, but she hit me!” I gasped for air, my hand instinctively reaching for my neck, feeling nothing. Panic surged through me as my eyes landed on the necklace in Melinda’s hand. Lucas shot me a sharp glare as he demanded, “Helen, apologize to Melinda.” “Give it back to me,” I whispered, my world narrowing to the necklace in her hand. I crawled toward them, oblivious to everything else. Melinda’s face drained of color. It was then she became acutely aware of the necklace clutched tightly in her trembling hand. She turned her gaze to Lucas with confusion and a hint of desperation. “What is this?” she asked. Lucas paused, his eyes reflecting a moment of contemplation before he explained, “It should be her mother’s relic.” Suddenly, a memory flashed through my mind. When I was feeding him, the cold pendant had brushed against his cheek, leaving a fleeting chill on his warm skin. He had been taken aback for a brief second and inquired, “What is this?” With sorrow clouding my eyes, I gently removed the necklace, examining it in my palm for a long while. Finally, I murmured, “It’s my mother’s legacy.” He hadn’t asked further. After a brief silence, he spoke in a soothing tone, “You must cherish the last thing your mother left you. Don’t be sad, Helen.” That moment marked the first time he had ever comforted me with such tenderness. Melinda smirked triumphantly as if she had found the ultimate weapon to win. She dangled the necklace in front of me. “If you beg me, I’ll give it back.” Lucas turned to face her, his lips parting as if to speak and closing again in silent struggle, words failing him despite several attempts. “Give it back to me!” Overwhelmed, I burst into tears and screamed, my outburst drawing whispers from the crowd of onlookers at the show. “It’s her mother’s legacy. Isn’t this going too far?” one murmured. “That’s right. Fighting is one thing, but to threaten someone with something so personal is just wrong,” another echoed. As the accusations flew from every direction, Melinda’s face grew red with embarrassment, her triumph slipping. Just as I reached out to take the necklace, Melinda threw it to the ground. The sound of it shattering into pieces echoed in the silence.

    “Stop pretending to be pitiful! Who knows if this is even your mother’s relic…” My blood ran cold, and my heart felt as though it was caught in a relentless vice, squeezing the breath out of me. Melinda looked at Lucas with tearful eyes and complained with feigned innocence, “She was the one who hit me first.” Lucas sighed, his expression softening as he gently stroked her hair, “I know you’re always kind. You’d never start trouble.” As he spoke, he pulled her into his arms, shielding her from the chaos. Tears streamed from my eyes, each one falling like a broken bead, scattering upon the ground. I stood there, immobilized, as if time itself had stopped for an eternity. Just as they turned to leave, everyone thought I was giving up. I bent down, picked up a stone, and charged at them. The stone struck Melinda’s head with a sickening thud. Chaos erupted. She turned to look at me with shock, bright red blood streaming down her face. The next second, her eyes fluttered shut, and she collapsed, unconscious. “Melinda!” Lucas roared. He turned to me, his eyes blazing with fury. “If anything happens to her, I’ll make you pay with your life!” Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms and stormed away, leaving me standing there alone. ***** Half a month passed in a blur. Strangely, Lucas and Melinda didn’t come after me. I locked myself in my apartment, avoiding the world. It wasn’t until I ran out of medication that I finally ventured out, braving the rain to go to the hospital. The doctor, Jason Smith, glanced at me with hesitation. “Ms. Jett, your somatization has become quite severe. If we don’t intervene and start treatment soon…” “Dr. Smith, just prescribe the medication. Thanks,” I interrupted. He sighed deeply but said nothing more. Ever since my parents died in a car accident eight years ago, I had battled severe depression. Back then, Lucas, with his radiant smile and vivacious spirit, became my sole refuge. I fell for him helplessly. When he lost his sight, I finally had the chance to be by his side. In truth, I wasn’t just healing him; he was healing me, too. Being near him made me feel safe and grounded. Therefore, regardless of what trials he faced, I remained steadfast by his side for three long years. But gradually, I realized it was all a lie. He wasn’t my salvation. He was my downfall. Holding an art exhibition in Blissford was my final wish. My mother was once celebrated as a renowned painter, and I inherited her talent, gaining recognition as a talented artist with millions of followers across social platforms. One of her dying wishes was to see me hold my own exhibition. I had been preparing for this for years. Once it was done, I’d leave. The day of the exhibition arrived, and the venue was packed. Friends, fans, and prominent figures in the art world had all come to celebrate. “Congratulations, my brilliant painter,” Selena said, handing me a glass of champagne. Her expression softened with concern. “If it weren’t for Lucas, this exhibition would’ve happened a long time ago, wouldn’t it?” She was right. If I hadn’t spent three years as his caretaker, everything might’ve been different. As we spoke, a sudden commotion erupted at the entrance. A group of men in black suits stormed in, lining up in two rows, each holding a baseball bat. Then, Lucas strode in and glanced at me coldly. He lifted his hand and issued a curt command, “Smash it.” The men swung their bats, shattering every painting in the room. The crowd scattered, fleeing in panic as chaos consumed the exhibition hall. As the scene descended into chaos, his eyes narrowed with a look of satisfaction, and he slowly made his way towards me. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Melinda said your paintings are ugly. They made her feel sick,” he said in an icy tone. “Helen, because of that stone you threw at her, she’s still in the hospital. Consider this little lesson your apology to her.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the man I’d loved and cared for three years. Lucas was even more cold-hearted than I’d imagined. But strangely, my shattered heart didn’t ache anymore. It was numb. I yelled, “Lucas, I don’t love you anymore. I never want to see you again in this lifetime.” His smile faltered for a moment. With his jaw clenched tight, he growled, “Don’t love me anymore? Helen, you’d better mean it. “Otherwise, if you come crawling back, begging for forgiveness, I won’t even spare you a glance.” Then, he spun around sharply to leave. Once he was out of sight, I closed my eyes, my body trembling uncontrollably. But deep down, I felt a strange sense of relief. It was almost over.

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