It wasn’t until the fifth year of my relationship with Jason that I discovered he had a one-year-old child. At the first birthday party, his family was the picture of happiness. When Jason saw me, he smirked dismissively: “Don’t worry, no one will call you the other woman.” I smiled and turned to leave. He was certain I’d be easily placated, until the heir of Zhou Corporation sent out a wedding invitation. On a rainy night, Jason frantically pounded on the door of the Zhou family mansion. I opened the door and looked down at him with contempt, like a defeated dog, and said impatiently: “Sorry, I don’t deal with cheaters.” At the lively family dinner, an adorable and delicate baby sat in the center. My boyfriend of five years, Jason, sat to the baby’s left, beaming with joy. An elegantly dressed woman sat on the other side, spoon-feeding the baby. Jason’s parents were also present, the whole family laughing and chatting intimately. I stared at this heartwarming scene of three generations, feeling a bit dazed. “Miss, who are you looking for?” asked a waiter, noticing me standing at the door of the private room. Suddenly, the entire room fell silent, all eyes turning to me as I stood there, unsure what to do. It wasn’t until the elegant-looking woman let out a soft laugh that Jason leisurely stood up and pulled me outside the room. He smirked, unfazed by my discovery of his infidelity: “That’s Sophia, the only daughter of the Wang family. Our families are old friends.” “You know how it is for people of our background. We can’t just marry whoever we want.” “You’ve always been understanding. You should be able to get this.” Jason and I had been together since college, for five years now. He was a rich heir, the type who could have any girl he wanted. Even after getting together with me, he was constantly surrounded by rumors and was an unrepentant playboy, causing me endless embarrassment and criticism. As for why he was with a poor girl like me, he said it was because I was understanding, knew my place, and looked like I could take good care of the family. I laughed bitterly: “When did this start?” Jason raised an eyebrow: “Does it matter? Probably about two years ago. The kid just turned one, you know.” I took off the necklace he had given me just two days ago. “This is the only thing you’ve ever given me. I’m returning it. I’ll pack up the rest and send it to your house.” Jason took the necklace, twirling it around his finger, and raised an eyebrow: “I never said I wanted to break up with you. Don’t worry, no one would dare call you the other woman.” I replied coldly: “From now on, you can be your rich heir, and I’ll be an ordinary citizen. Let’s not cross paths again.” Jason’s expression changed slightly, “Emily, you’d better know what you’re saying.” “I know exactly what I’m saying.” With that, I turned and left, feeling a sense of liberation in my heart. I had wanted to say those words for a long time. “Jason, what’s so great about this Emily? She’s ungrateful!” I heard Jason’s mother coming out of the private room from a distance. “Mom, I’m already married to someone else and have a child. It’s only natural for Emily to be angry. But I’m sure in a couple of days, when she calms down, she’ll come back on her own.” “Don’t lose sight of what’s important. Sophia is your real wife, and we need her family’s influence to open up that project in the west.” “I know, Mom. We already have a child together. What father-in-law wouldn’t help his son-in-law?”

I wandered aimlessly on the streets for a while before ending up in a bar. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t hurt. My nonchalant attitude was just an act. I ordered a whiskey and sat alone at the bar, sipping slowly. In just one short hour, no less than ten men came over to chat me up. None of them caught my eye. Either they weren’t as handsome as Jason, or their voices weren’t as pleasant. Jason. I tried to control myself not to think about my ex-boyfriend. But the more I drank, the more I thought about him. Back in college, my mom had a heart problem and needed surgery. We were short $15,000. That’s when Jason appeared. $15,000. Sometimes, I felt like I had been sold to him. “Emily, is that you?” I looked up, squinting at the tall, slim man standing in the light. I couldn’t see his face clearly. He was wearing a cool-toned shirt with a few buttons casually undone at the collar, revealing a delicate collarbone. A narrow waist tucked into dress pants, leading down to long, straight legs. I swallowed hard. I’m single now, might as well have some fun. “Do you… know me?” I swirled the drink in my glass. “Are you drunk? You don’t even recognize me? I used to chase after you in school.” The man leaned in closer. That’s when I recognized him as Alex, a junior from college. I slowly took a sip of my drink, licked my lips, and gazed at him with hazy eyes. Alex’s Adam’s apple bobbed. I curled my lips into a smile: “Want to come over to my place?” We’re both adults in our twenties, some things don’t need to be spelled out. Alex’s eyes darkened, as if absorbing all the light. For a moment, we were silent. I started to regret my abrupt invitation. I must really be drunk. “I’d be delighted.” Just when I thought he would refuse, he softly replied, with a hint of barely noticeable pleasure.

….. The house was empty when I woke up. I checked my phone and saw a message from Alex: [You looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I’ve gone to work. Remember to eat lunch when you get up.] I smiled. Was Alex still some inexperienced kid? No need for any after-sales service. I was about to doze off again when someone knocked on the door. I forced myself to get up and put on some clothes, despite my fatigue. When I opened the door, it was Jason. This small apartment I rented was a two-bedroom, one-living room place. Jason knew the address but had never visited before. This was his first time here. “What a rare guest,” I said, only then realizing how hoarse my voice was. Jason asked suspiciously, “Did you just wake up?” “What’s it to you? Jason, we’ve broken up.” “Still angry, huh? Don’t tell me you went out drinking last night because you were heartbroken, and that’s why you’re just getting up now.” I smiled, “Yeah, and with a handsome guy too.” With that, I slammed the door shut with a bang. Seeing an ex-boyfriend first thing in the morning, how unlucky! “Emily, explain yourself clearly!” Jason shouted, seemingly flustered at being shut out for the first time at my place. “Stop pretending. I know you too well. You’re just trying to provoke me and make me jealous, right? That’s all you women know how to do.” Jason was still the same Jason, looking down on others from his high horse. “I’ll take you to a hot spring resort in a few days. Stop making a fuss. That’s enough.” Jason continued muttering to himself outside the door for a while before leaving, not knowing where he got the confidence that I was just throwing a tantrum.

I went back to sleep and didn’t wake up until evening, roused by the smell of food. “So you finally decided to get up.” I opened my eyes wide, unable to believe the scene before me. Alex was busy in the kitchen, wearing an apron, occasionally turning his head to give me a slightly reproachful look. On the dining table were two dishes and a soup, still steaming — the source of the aroma that had woken me up. “Here, drink some water first.” Alex came over with a glass of warm water, handed it to me, and thoughtfully smoothed my messy hair. Uh… I couldn’t quite process what was happening. “Are you still thinking about Jason? Their family’s marriage alliance with the Wang family has been an open secret in our circles for a long time.” So it wasn’t a secret. “Huh, looks like I was the last to know. His friends never told me, always calling me ‘sister-in-law’.” Alex frowned, his expression turning serious: “I thought you knew all along and stayed with him because you loved him. I didn’t realize…” I laughed self-mockingly and skillfully lit a cigarette. Alex’s frown deepened: “I came too late.” “What?” It was an abrupt statement, and I didn’t catch it clearly. “Jason doesn’t deserve you. Would you consider me? I’ve liked you since college, senior.” “I can cook, do housework, and I’m pretty good in bed too, aren’t I?” Alex was more than a head taller than me. Now he was closing in on me, his hands on either side of me, his dark eyes staring down at me. For a moment, I felt like prey in a hunter’s sights. Nervous, but exciting. Love is exhausting. Maybe being loved wouldn’t be so bad. “You mean… marriage?” My voice was shaking uncontrollably when I spoke. “I’m up for it,” Alex replied quickly. The next morning, we came out of the civil affairs bureau holding red marriage certificates. Alex even bought me a bouquet of roses from a small stand outside the bureau. Two days ago, I went from being the main girlfriend to the other woman, and today I’m marrying a man I thought was just a one-night stand. It feels like I’m in a dream. “Alex, don’t you feel it’s unfair?” I asked him hesitantly, looking at the red booklet in my hand. “It’s too late to say anything now.” Alex tapped my head with the red booklet. “You’ll have to make it up to me in the future.” Later, I found out what he meant by ‘making it up’. We took a month off, supposedly for a honeymoon on an island, but in reality, we spent most of our time in the hotel. Every time, Alex would look at me pitifully. What could I do? I had to indulge him.

The honeymoon passed quickly. It had been a long time since I’d had such comfortable and pleasant days. One day, as we were surfing on the sun-drenched beach, I unexpectedly received a call from Jason’s mother. “Emily, come to the Wheat Family Restaurant tonight. I have something to discuss with you.” Mrs. Chen’s arrogance was just like Jason’s, always speaking to me as if addressing a servant. “Auntie, do you have something to say? You can just tell me over the phone,” I replied coldly. I knew she had never accepted me in all these years. Mrs. Chen seemed surprised by my cold tone and paused before saying: “How long are you going to keep up this breakup act with Jason? He’s eating less because of you, he’s lost weight.” Pfft. I couldn’t help but laugh. “What do you mean?” Mrs. Chen’s tone darkened. “Auntie, I’m not Mrs. Chen, taking care of Jason isn’t my responsibility. I shouldn’t overstep my bounds, right?” My mood was light. The gloom of Jason’s betrayal had long since dissipated in Alex’s daily sweet words and actions. “Emily, I can understand your dissatisfaction. Any woman would feel upset when betrayed by the one they love,” Mrs. Chen’s tone softened. “But you know, in families like ours, it’s impossible to let someone with no background like you into the family.” “However, my husband and I aren’t that harsh. Since you’ve been with Jason for so long, we can’t just kick you out.” “How about this, if you give Jason a son, I’ll accept you as my daughter-in-law.” This time, I really laughed out of anger. “Auntie, you’re really… generous. You’re willing to share your precious only son between two women, just so your Chen family can have a grandson?” It seems that even though Sophia is the only daughter of a wealthy family, she hasn’t given the Chen family a son, so she still doesn’t please Mrs. Chen. “Auntie, I left of my own accord. I wouldn’t dare trouble you to kick me out.” I’m glad I didn’t marry into such a family. But what are Alex’s parents like? As I was lost in thought, Mrs. Chen suddenly brought up an old matter: “Emily, don’t push your luck. If it weren’t for Jason giving you $15,000 back then, your mother wouldn’t even have been able to have her surgery.” This was true. But with five years of selfless dedication, five years of silently enduring despite knowing he was fooling around outside, I think I’ve more than repaid that debt. “Auntie, I’ve already transferred that $15,000 back to Jason’s account with interest a few days ago. Jason deals with large sums in his business daily, so he might not have noticed. You can remind him to check his text messages.” “Also, I’ve kept everything he’s given me over the years because I knew there would be a day to return them. I’ll ask a friend to send them back to him as soon as possible.” “Emily, think carefully! This is your closest chance to enter high society!” She’s crazy. “Hmm, I’m not interested. Don’t call again.” I hung up the phone directly, then blocked the number. Alex had been quietly listening to my phone call nearby. His gaze carried a hint of sadness: “If only I had been there at that time.” I smiled without saying anything. “But, I’m from a wealthy family too,” Alex suddenly said as he embraced me. Huh? I only knew that Alex was well-off, but I had never seen him surrounded by beautiful women or hanging out with questionable friends. “Who says rich heirs must have a lot of shady friends and girlfriends? You think everyone is like Jason?” Alex smiled helplessly, nuzzling the top of my head with his chin. “The Chen family doesn’t know how lucky they could have been. From now on, you’ll be the daughter-in-law of our Zhou family.”

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Jack and Rachel had been together for ten years, from high school sweethearts to newlyweds. To support her career, Jack willingly became a stay-at-home husband. He thought this was the happiness he wanted, until Rachel’s secret young lover called to mark his territory. Jack realized that years of devotion couldn’t compare to a few sweet nothings from a boy toy. Heartbroken, Jack decided to divorce, but Rachel coldly retorted, “You think you can get half of my assets? Dream on!” But Jack didn’t care about the money anymore, because he was already dying. Rachel had been working overtime a lot lately, and her appetite wasn’t good. Jack made her favorite sweet and sour ribs, but she only took one bite before rushing to the bathroom to retch. Jack was worried about her and wanted to check on her, but her phone on the table rang. The caller ID showed an unsaved number, and he instinctively picked it up to answer. “Babe, are you really not coming over tonight? I’ve got some new tricks prepared…” Before Jack could hear the rest of the sentence, Rachel suddenly snatched the phone from behind him. She angrily scolded him, “Who told you to touch my phone!” Jack stood there, stunned. From the day they met until their wedding, Jack and Rachel had been together for ten years. He thought he knew her well enough to trust her, and had never checked her phone. He didn’t expect that simply answering a call for her would provoke such a strong reaction. Rachel realized she had overreacted and quickly adjusted her tone, softening her expression. She explained, “It’s a new intern at the company. He keeps calling me for every little thing.” “Oh, do interns usually talk to their seniors with a cutesy voice and mention ‘new tricks’?” Jack asked. Rachel was at a loss for words but tried to defend herself, “He’s just a Gen Z kid. He jokes around like that all the time. Don’t overthink it. By ‘new tricks,’ he probably meant he came up with some new ideas and wanted my approval.” As if afraid Jack would continue to dwell on it, she cursed a few times at the person on the other end of the line. After hanging up, she playfully snuggled into Jack’s arms as usual. Then, pouting, she asked, “Are you jealous? You’re almost thirty, and you’re getting worked up over a kid?” “Of course not,” Jack lied.

Rachel usually cared a lot about her age. Once, when a college student handing out flyers called her “ma’am,” she was upset for an entire day. Now, to distance herself from the person on the phone, she kept referring to him as a “kid.” Her attempts to cover up were full of holes. Probably feeling a bit guilty, Rachel stopped working overtime for a while. She accompanied Jack to the supermarket and walked the dog in the park, just like when they first got married. However, she often stared at her phone absent-mindedly, with a sweet smile on her face. Jack didn’t want to dig deeper. After all, he didn’t have much time left and just wanted to spend it in blissful ignorance. Unfortunately, the algorithm didn’t spare him. In the friend recommendation list of a video app, Jack discovered Rachel’s “kid” with the cutesy voice. His name was Ethan, a handsome young man. The posting time of each of his videos coincided with Rachel’s “overtime” hours. In the videos, the faceless “older sister” girlfriend cooked for him, ironed his clothes, and patiently listened to his boring daily stories. But this “good sister” of his had Jack’s name initials tattooed on her wrist. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Rachel noticed Jack’s strange expression as he held his phone and asked tentatively. But the next second, Jack pulled her into his arms and almost frantically bit her collarbone. “Ouch… it hurts! Jack, stop it!” Ignoring her protests, Jack flipped her over and pinned her down. At that moment, he only wanted to vengefully leave his mark on her body again.

Slap! Rachel’s hand brought Jack back to his senses. His ears were ringing, and he covered his right cheek as his eyes gradually reddened. She thought she had slapped too hard and quickly sat up to ease the tension. “I’m sorry, honey. You scared me just now, and I instinctively…” “Well, anyway… it’s not that I don’t want to, but I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather lately. Let’s wait until next month for that kind of thing, okay?” Next month? Rachel had probably forgotten that their last time was nearly six months ago. About the same time her boy toy uploaded his first video. Jack remained silent, and as Rachel was about to say more to comfort him, her phone rang. She glanced at Jack, trying to appear calm, then walked to the window to answer. “Mm-hmm, don’t worry. I’ll be right there.” “Honey, I need to go out for a bit. Something came up at work.” Jack looked her straight in the eyes and asked, “Is it that intern from last time?” Rachel paused for a moment, then quickly explained, “You know how young people are. They can’t handle many things and always need help.” “Then fire him. What’s the point of keeping someone so useless?” Rachel didn’t expect Jack to say that. “Jack, who hasn’t made mistakes when they were young? Since when did you become so unsympathetic?” Great, she couldn’t even be bothered to call him “honey” anymore for the sake of her boy toy. Rachel left without looking back. As the door closed, the house fell into dead silence.

In the dark living room, only a mute dog kept Jack company. Seven years ago, on their way to get their marriage license, Jack and Rachel had found this mixed-breed dog. Rachel said its first half of life as a stray had been too bitter, so she named it Sugar Bean and said they’d raise it like their child. But just two months ago, behind Jack’s back, she had Sugar Bean’s vocal cords removed. All because she came home late one night and was annoyed that the dog disturbed her while she was catching up on sleep during the day. It seemed that both Jack and the dog had fallen out of her favor. Jack hugged Sugar Bean, lying on the couch, refreshing someone’s video account page over and over again. Sure enough, he had updated. “Which tie do you think looks best, babe? I’ve got a big client meeting tomorrow.” Ethan had posted three different outfit styles. He was either pulling at the tie around his neck with his shirt wide open, exposing his Adam’s apple and chest muscles, or using the tie as a prop, tying his hands behind his back or blindfolding himself. So this was the type Rachel liked now? She must have been having too much fun to notice the time. She didn’t return home until after 6 AM the next morning. She was surprised to see Jack sitting in the living room waiting for her. “You… didn’t sleep last night?” “Well, I was afraid you might still be angry yesterday, so I crashed at my friend’s place for the night.” Rachel continued to spin her lies, but Jack didn’t want to play along anymore. Expressionlessly, he tossed a pregnancy test in front of her. “Care to explain?”

When they got married, Rachel said she wanted to be child-free, so Jack had a vasectomy to support her decision. It was obvious whose child this was. “You knew?” A week ago, when Jack was leaving the house, he casually took out the trash. If the garbage bag hadn’t had a hole in the bottom, he wouldn’t have accidentally discovered this. Originally, knowing he didn’t have much time left, Jack thought that as long as Rachel and Ethan didn’t flaunt their relationship in front of him, there was no need to expose them. But Rachel kept treating him like a fool for the sake of that boy toy, and it became unbearable. In her panic, she still tried to argue, “Honey, even with a vasectomy, it’s not absolutely…” “Enough!” Jack interrupted her. “Do you remember when was the last time we were intimate?” Rachel’s expression flickered with confusion before settling into undisguisable embarrassment. Knowing she couldn’t talk her way out of this one, she finally came clean: “Yes, I changed my mind. Is that not allowed?” “When we got married, our combined monthly income was less than $1,000. How could we afford a child? I decided to be child-free because I understood your stress. Now that I’ve made it on my own, why can’t I have my own child?” So that’s how she saw it? But Jack clearly remembered that when she was just a sales representative at a small company, he had secured a stable government job. It was Rachel who worried that getting pregnant would cost her job, fearing that Jack might abandon her at any time. To give her the sense of security she wanted, he had the vasectomy. Jack’s voice trembled with anger, the lesion in his abdomen aching dully: “Is this your reason for finding a boy toy outside?” After saying this, how could she not understand who he was referring to? “Yes, I found a young hunk. He’s young, energetic, and knows how to sweet-talk me. Unlike you now, with no ambition and no romance, always looking gloomy. I’m already being merciful by not replacing you as my husband!” Jack laughed bitterly. So what he thought was companionship was, in her eyes, nothing but a burden she had long wanted to shake off. “Let’s get a divorce.” Rachel reacted as if she’d heard a joke: “You? Asking me for a divorce?” “Listen here, Jack. In my dictionary, there’s no such thing as divorce, only ’till death do us part’!”

After being a boss for a few years, Rachel’s demeanor had changed. She unconsciously started treating Jack the way she treated her employees. In the past, Jack would have let it slide, but now it was useless on him. He directly threw the prepared divorce agreement in front of her. Rachel sneered, tearing it to shreds in front of him: “You already had the agreement prepared. You’ve been looking for a chance to turn on me, haven’t you?” “We dated for three years and have been married for seven. Anyone would get bored! I just happened to get pregnant, and you caught me red-handed. As for you, can you honestly say you’ve never wavered? I think you’re just using this as an excuse, trying to divorce me and get half of my assets. Dream on!” Slap! Jack returned the earlier slap, with interest. “Don’t think everyone is like you.” Love isn’t just simple sensory stimulation, replacing partners when the passion fades. It’s about responsibility and companionship. Unfortunately, these things only reveal their true nature with the test of time. It was Jack who had chosen the wrong person, and he had to accept the consequences. “Whether you believe it or not, I didn’t ask for a penny in the agreement. I’ll only take my own savings.” “I have cancer. I don’t have long to live, so I don’t need the money anyway.” Rachel recovered from the slap, her tone slightly mocking: “Cancer? Jack, you’re not very creative, are you?”

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I had been secretly in love with Connor, the top student in our class, for years. But he just announced he was in a relationship. At a party, his girlfriend deliberately asked me, “What’s your ideal type?” Looking at Connor’s face, I described someone completely opposite to him. Unexpectedly, the next day, his best friend approached me with a video from the party. Seeing my confused expression, he calmly said something that shocked me for the entire day. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier that you have a crush on me?” 1 After hearing Zack’s words, I choked on my bubble tea for a full minute. He sat across from me, knowingly holding his phone in front of my eyes. “Why so shy? Isn’t this the ideal type you described? It matches me perfectly.” In the video, I was staring at Connor’s face, speaking clearly word by word. “My ideal type is an outgoing, confident, and humorous guy.” He slowly lowered his phone, revealing a smug smile. “Although I have many admirers, I’ll reluctantly let you cut in line.” “Just pursue me for a month, and I’ll consider accepting you. But…” Looking at the chattering person in front of me, I expressionlessly closed the door. Zack’s sports car was eye-catching. Me riding my bicycle alongside his car was even more eye-catching. From the lowered car window, Zack’s mouth never stopped moving. “A month is a bit long, but you need patience when pursuing someone, right?” “I’m a young eligible bachelor, I can’t just say yes because you asked.” Annoyed by the noise, I stopped and gave him two middle fingers. Just as I was about to turn and pedal hard, I heard the voice I least wanted to hear. “Ava? Why are you cycling to school today?” Connor came up from behind, hugging his books. Seeing Zack’s sports car, his expression became a bit unnatural. “Hey, buddy, why aren’t you in the classroom yet?” Connor was the top student, always the first to arrive for 8 am classes. Everyone called him the scholarship maniac. “Something came up.” I used to wait for him at the cafeteria entrance every day to go to class together. He was never late in the morning. Today he probably had breakfast with Sophia. Thinking about this, I uncomfortably started pedaling my bicycle slowly. Connor walked beside me, frequently turning his head to look at me. “Ava, why are you coming with Zack?” Although he asked very quietly, Zack still heard it. “She wants to pursue me, so I’m teaching her how to win my heart.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Connor’s hand crumple a corner of his book. Under his inquiring gaze, I glanced at Zack without saying anything. Seeing that I didn’t refute, Zack spoke more enthusiastically. He leaned almost half his body out of the car. “She even insisted on buying me rings to wear on both my middle fingers just now.” “I don’t think it’s necessary though, don’t you agree, buddy?” “Rings are something that…” BANG– A huge crash mixed with Connor’s startled cry rang in my ears. The moment the telephone pole tilted, I really wanted to close my eyes and pretend I couldn’t hear anything. 2 After paying the bill at the reception desk and coming back, Zack was hugging his leg and complaining to the doctor. “Aren’t you embarrassed enough already?” Hearing my voice, he suddenly turned around, pointed at his leg, and looked at me with silent tears. Just before the tears reached the corners of his mouth, I rushed over and wrapped his head with my jacket. “Doctor, quickly!” After a round of wailing, I sat on the examination bed with a cold face, waiting for the doctor to disinfect the bite mark on my arm. “Zack, why didn’t that telephone pole kill you?” He touched the cast on his leg and wiped away his tears. “Don’t say such things. I promise to be with you, okay?” So I brought up the ring-buying thing again. By the time everything was over, it was already afternoon. Watching him flying around my house like a swallow, I couldn’t help but frown. “When are you going to leave?” He opened a bag of rice crackers and stuffed them into his mouth, shaking his head. “If you’re not leaving, then pay up. Towing fee, medical fee, transportation fee. SnapChat or PayPal?” “I’ll pay in kind.” He opened a carton of milk for himself and covered his face coyly. It was enough to make anyone angry for no reason. I immediately took out my phone to dial 91

Only then did he hurriedly hop over with his cast, looking at me pitifully, “Is a bank transfer okay?” After tearfully transferring a four-digit sum, he was finally allowed to stay as a guest. After all, with a wrecked sports car and a broken leg, going home would be life-threatening. But I didn’t know my kindness would cause me so much trouble. It wasn’t until I finished showering at night and was about to sleep that I truly realized. “Zack, open the door right now!” I knocked until my palm was numb before he finally spoke. “No way, I’m a pure and innocent boy. How could I sleep with you?” I could hear the suppressed laughter in his intermittent voice. I kicked the door once, then reluctantly compromised and walked towards the sofa in the living room. The cheap sofa I bought was narrow and hard. I didn’t fall asleep until late at night. Zack floated out like a ghost and stood in front of the sofa. It gave me a big scare. “What are you doing?” “Your room is too hot. My allergies are acting up. I can’t sleep.” His voice sounded stuffy. “Then what should we do? Do you want me to go out and buy medicine for you now?” “I want to sleep here.” Inexplicably, the sofa became a hot commodity again. I bundled up the blanket around me and went into the room. Instead of heading straight for the pillow, I first glanced at the notebook on the desk. In the moonlight, I felt something was off about it. But it was still in its original place. After struggling for a while, I finally locked it in the drawer before going to sleep with peace of mind. 3 Without his sports car, Zack had to ride on my bicycle to school every day. “Why don’t you take a cab?” “I gave all my money to you. How can I afford a cab?” He sat on my rear seat, carrying my backpack and using an egg to soothe his eyes, his mouth full of complaints. I could only channel my speechlessness into pedaling fiercely. As soon as we entered the classroom, I felt Connor’s scrutinizing gaze. I originally wanted to ignore him and sit at the back, but Zack pulled me to sit in the front row. “My leg hurts. I can’t jump that far.” He sat between Connor and me, constantly yawning. I wasn’t doing much better, feeling extremely sleepy. I had only fallen asleep in the early hours, and at 6 am, he was standing by my bed with puffy eyes. Complaining that the wind chimes in the living room kept ringing, keeping him awake. Unable to bear his constant nagging, I had to get up and throw the wind chimes in the trash. Those wind chimes were a gift from Connor. There was no need to keep them anymore anyway. I mocked myself inwardly. It was just something Sophia had discarded. Why was I still treasuring it like some precious item? As if sensing something, Connor suddenly turned back to look at me. He was about to pass something over across Zack. Before I could see clearly, my shoulder suddenly felt heavy. Zack had steadily fallen asleep on my shoulder. I immediately turned my head straight, narrowly avoiding kissing his forehead. If I woke him up, who knows how he would disgust me. Shouting things like secret crush and paying in kind, then rushing over. Who could stand that? On the podium, the teacher’s gaze, as if tangible, made me feel like I was sitting on pins and needles. Taking advantage of her turning around to write on the board, I pushed Zack’s head. Unexpectedly, not only did I not push him away, he even nuzzled his head on my shoulder. Damn, I wonder if his red hair will stain my clothes. It must stain, otherwise why would my face be so red? “Admit it, Ava. You’re fascinated by me too, right?” Zack once again held up his phone with a smug expression. A photo of me on the campus social media page, red-faced, supporting Zack’s head while taking notes, had gone viral. The photo was taken very cleverly, not even showing a corner of Connor’s clothes next to us. I stared at it for a few seconds without responding to his words. But he suddenly put down his phone and twisted himself into a pretzel. “But you’re being too obvious. Now the whole school knows you like me.” “You’re making it impossible for me to reject you. You’re so bad.” Watching him bury his face in his palms, I silently snatched the sausage from his bowl. 4 Actually, everyone knew I liked Connor. Because no matter what activity it was, as long as I was told Connor would be there, I would participate. The words at that party were indeed just my childish retaliation. So I don’t quite understand why Zack is so certain that I have a secret crush on him. But undeniably, Zack did distract my attention. He accompanies me to class, follows me when I study, and waits for me when I work part-time. When I’m with him, I rarely think about Connor. “Ava, do you think I’d look better with golden hair?” “Mm-hmm.” Busy with my part-time job, I responded habitually. “You’re so perfunctory. I’m such a handsome guy, and you don’t appreciate me at all.” Zack is very good-looking, golden hair should suit him well. He complained verbally, but the next day his hair color had indeed changed. After getting my paycheck, I took him to the orphanage. This was what I had promised him before. He always ate the snacks I stored at home. I told him those were bought for the children at the orphanage. As soon as he heard that, he insisted on coming along and even filled up a lot of toys himself. With free labor and toys for the kids to play with, I had no reason to refuse. But when we got to the entrance, he hesitated, holding two big bags of snacks and toys. “Ava, should I have dyed my hair black instead?” Looking at his golden hair shimmering under the sun, I nodded. Because the kids here love new and interesting things. Once we go in, I’m afraid his head of golden hair will be in trouble. The director was very happy to see me return. She pulled me aside, saying I had gotten thinner again, telling me to eat more, not to take studying too seriously, and that health is the most important. I agreed to everything and also told her not to work too hard. She looked at Zack distributing snacks to the children and whispered in my ear. “Girl, this boy seems quite nice, but why did he dye his hair yellow?” The director pushed up her glasses, showing deep confusion. In the warm autumn sun, Zack held a child in each arm while trying to read a storybook. I stood beside the director, watching him from afar through the window. A warm feeling inexplicably arose in my heart. During dinner, Zack sat next to the director, looking very respectful. Although everything seemed harmonious, I felt something was off. I couldn’t help but ask if he was feeling unwell somewhere. He straightened his back, “No, it’s great here, very comfortable.” “Then why are you acting so strange?” He glanced at the director and secretly asked me, “How am I strange?” “Usually when eating, you practically hug the rice cooker, but today you’re only eating one bowl.” The director heard this and smiled, immediately sending a child to help him get more rice. He buried his face in the bowl and squeezed out a sentence through his teeth. “Ava, don’t I need to save face?” 5 Starting from the day we returned from the orphanage, The notebook in the bedroom drawer began to thin day by day. The weather was also getting colder. I wanted that failed secret crush to leave me like falling leaves. But things didn’t go as I wished. Someone posted photos of Zack and me entering and leaving the hospital together on the campus social media page. There was also a related post. The title was enough to match the big “Breaking” label in the bottom right corner. “The Dirty Secrets of a Poor Scholar and a Rich Kid” It was full of photos of Zack and me appearing together. The text was full of speculation about our relationship. The conclusion was that I was pregnant with Zack’s child, and he accompanied me to the hospital for an abortion. Although many people in the comments didn’t believe it, saying that everyone knew I liked Connor. “The only difference before and after going to the hospital is that the cast on Zack’s leg is gone. Are you saying that cast was their child?” “And anyone with eyes knows that Ava has always liked Connor, right?” But people’s enthusiasm for gossip was no joke. “What’s the use of liking someone if Connor doesn’t like her back?” “Yeah, Connor and Sophia are such a loving couple, why would he want Ava?” “I’m not surprised by this at all. You should see the way Zack looks at Ava…” “I just didn’t expect Ava to be this kind of person. She always acted so high and mighty before.” I was immediately called in for a talk with the counselor and received an afternoon of education in the office. When I came out, I ran into Connor standing at the door. “Ava, are you okay?” I didn’t respond, just stepped aside to let him pass. “I believe you’re not that kind of person.” When I opened the door at night, Zack was no longer there. I woodenly went back to the bedroom and took out the notebook, about to tear out a page as usual. But looking at the words blurred by water stains, I found it strange. Flipping through, every page had them. But I had never spilled water on it. I dug out yesterday’s torn page from the trash can, and sure enough, the writing was also blurred by water marks. When Zack was here before, I always tore pages in the dark at night, so I never noticed. This notebook contained my record of secretly loving Connor since high school. From the first time I realized I liked Connor, to Connor announcing his relationship. Every word was related to Connor. My mind was in chaos as I searched for memories about the notebook. I suddenly remembered the first night Zack came to my house. His intermittent speech, coming out in the middle of the night with a stuffy voice, and his swollen eyelids the next day. Complaining about the wind chimes Connor gave me in the early morning. These moments flashed before my eyes one by one. I touched those round water stains, and a guess formed in my heart. 6 The post was deleted, but I hadn’t seen Zack for a week. After that campus post came out, I never saw him again. He didn’t reply to my messages either. Instead, my contact with Connor passively increased. For some reason, I kept running into Connor everywhere. In class, he no longer sat in the front row or came first. Instead, he waited for me downstairs, followed me to school, and sat with me at the back of the classroom. “Connor, you already have a girlfriend. Please have some self-awareness.” “Ava, it’s not what you think between Sophia and me. I have my reasons.” But I had no time to listen to his reasons. “Don’t you want to know why someone like Zack would be friends with me?” We sat on a bench in front of the artificial lake on campus. I was indeed curious why Zack would be friends with Connor. Because I had known Connor since high school and had a crush on him. Zack, I only met after starting university. Suddenly one day he appeared by Connor’s side, calling him his good buddy. At that time, I thought male friendships just formed that quickly. But now it seems that Connor and Zack are completely opposite personality types. Moreover, Zack’s family background is different from ours. I’m an orphan, and Connor lives with his grandmother. Except for our grades, we’re at the bottom of the social ladder at school. But Connor is a bit better off than me. He’s nice to everyone, and with his handsome face, quite a few people like him. As for me, I’m busy with part-time jobs every day and indifferent to everyone. Even though I look decent, people just say I’m putting on airs. But I don’t care what others think. Because I know others can’t help me live my life. But Zack, I don’t know why he’s different from others. From the beginning, he’s been very enthusiastic towards me. Even when I ignored him, he would still come to talk to me. Before this incident, I hadn’t even looked at his face carefully. “I’m not close to him at all.” “He just came up to me on his own. You know, he’s different from us. People are more willing to believe them.” Seeing that I wasn’t looking at him, he continued. “I became his good friend in a daze, and watched him approach you in a daze.” “Now I finally understand, he was trying to get close to you from the very beginning.” “Actually, I’ve wanted to say this for a long time. Zack is not a good person. Don’t be fooled by him.” 7 I became the protagonist of the campus social media page again. This time it was with Connor. In the photo, we were sitting on a bench with our heads lowered. The title read: “Shocking! Poor Girl Dumped, Turns to Someone Else’s Boyfriend” After being invisible for twenty years, I never thought I’d become a campus celebrity overnight.

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I thought a man with “three legs” was too much trouble, so I married a “two-legged” husband instead. My husband was impotent and had a volatile temper. He was cold and heartless to everyone else, but gentle only to me. I was the only one who could soothe his irritable moods. I thought we were the perfect platonic couple. Until a week before our wedding, I discovered he had been keeping an 18-year-old girl on the side. The girl came to me with a list of hotel check-ins and a stack of condom receipts. 99 check-ins, 693 condoms. “Sister, you must know how strong and powerful my darling’s ‘third leg’ is, right?” she smirked. “The unloved one is the mistress. Evelyn, my darling can’t even get it up for you, can he?” I looked across the table at this young girl with a ponytail, wearing a pure white dress. She looked exactly like me when I was eighteen. I lit a cigarette and took a drag, feeling a sharp pain in my lungs. The girl kept chattering away. “It’s too sad to marry someone who doesn’t love you, Evelyn. You should find someone who loves you. That’s the only way you’ll be happy in the future.” I slowly exhaled, forming a smoke ring. Listening to her words, I couldn’t help but laugh. The girl’s expression crumbled a bit. “What are you laughing at?” “Evelyn, your fiancé told me he loves me in your marital home. Shouldn’t you be reflecting on yourself instead of laughing? Don’t you believe that with just one phone call, my darling will do anything for me?” I laughed so hard tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t help coughing a couple of times before saying, “I believe you.” I stubbed out my cigarette and looked at the girl. “Derek doesn’t know you came to see me, does he?” The girl froze, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face. I was already thirty years old. Teenage girls wear their thoughts on their faces. However, she only paused for a second before speaking, “Even if he knew, he wouldn’t do anything to me.” Saying this, she seemed to call Derek out of spite. Hearing the ringing tone, I felt a glimmer of anticipation in my heart. When the call connected, the girl began speaking coquettishly, “Darling, do you love Evelyn?” Derek replied almost without hesitation: “I love her.” My heart sank, but he continued, “Or at least I used to. Now I love you the most.” The girl asked sweetly, “If I got into a fight with Evelyn, whose side would you take?” The voice on the other end of the phone was full of indulgence: “Yours, of course, my little princess. But you’ll have to help me out tonight too.” I gripped my cup tightly, my face expressionless.

From a young age, I lived with my grandmother in a dilapidated, unfinished building. My mother ran off with someone else, complaining about our poverty. My father went to work on ships to earn money for my grandmother and me. He disappeared on his second trip out. His death benefits barely supported my grandmother and me. I was always either studying or working part-time jobs. The day I met Derek, I was being mugged by some thugs. He appeared like a guardian angel, but even he couldn’t fight off so many attackers alone. Derek was kicked in the groin. Fortunately, the police arrived in time, but I still found out about his… functional impairment. From then on, my goal of working hard to provide for my grandmother gained another purpose: To repay Derek, and to seek revenge for both of us against those who had attacked us. But I never expected those people to come directly to my home. My grandmother was pushed while trying to protect me, and she became paralyzed. It was Derek who appeared again to save me. He helped me take my grandmother to the hospital and paid for her hospitalization and medical expenses. He even hired a caregiver to look after my grandmother so I could focus on my studies. Unfortunately, despite the enormous amount of money that I couldn’t repay, my grandmother still died in the hospital. Before she passed away, she said that Derek was a good person, but we shouldn’t take his kindness for granted. The hospitalization costs must be repaid. After burying my grandmother, I became Derek’s assistant. I worked for Derek, keeping only $500 for living expenses and sending the rest to him to repay the debt. I also learned self-defense for free, partly to prevent being attacked again, and partly to take on the job of Derek’s bodyguard. The salary from that job also went straight into Derek’s account to repay the debt. Secondly, I had to avenge my grandmother. As I got busier, the little white dress I used to love became a hindrance. I took off the dress, and to make my bright appearance look more intimidating, I had my entire back tattooed with a dark pattern. Two years passed. I got my revenge, and the debt was cleared. But no matter what treatment method was tried, Derek’s “third leg” remained useless. He became a man with the tool but unable to use it. I stayed by his side like I was atoning for a sin, ready to do whatever he asked. It wasn’t until he confessed his feelings to me that I realized it wasn’t atonement – I loved him. I had been with Derek for eleven years, from a loyal subordinate to a girlfriend, and then to a loving fiancée. With my assistance, he became an underworld kingpin in the city. Our life was peaceful. Although Derek couldn’t use his “tool,” he liked to hold me in bed at night. He would press my head against his chest and repeatedly stroke my hair that never seemed to recover from its dryness. “Evelyn, I still prefer how you used to be.” I always answered him, “Isn’t this still me?” It wasn’t until this 18-year-old girl showed up that I realized what he meant. The “me” he was referring to was the one who hadn’t taken off the little white dress for him. The one who couldn’t escape poverty and needed him to shelter her from the wind and rain. Now, this me who shielded him from the bloody storms of the underworld, who was called “Big Sister” by a group of subordinates – he didn’t like this version of me. I always believed what my grandmother said, that Derek was a good person. But this good person’s affection had stopped at my 18-year-old self.

After parting ways with the young girl, I went to inspect the port before heading home. But I ran into Derek, who was just about to leave. He saw me and frowned, “Why are you back so late?” I sidestepped him and said, “I had some business to take care of.” Derek nodded, not asking further, “I need to go to the port to receive a shipment. I won’t be back tonight.” “Be good at home, honey.” He leaned in to kiss me but stopped at arm’s length. “Why do you smell so strongly of cigarettes?” “Didn’t I tell you to smoke less?” The man’s furrowed brow and expression showed a hint of disgust. Looking at his reaction, I remembered the young girl’s smug smile earlier: “Sister, Derek loves the milky scent on me.” I suddenly felt a bitterness in my heart. But wasn’t it you, Derek, who gave me my first cigarette? Standing in the darkness, I forced a smile, “Derek, why don’t we break up?” Derek’s face changed instantly. “Evelyn, are you going through menopause or something? What kind of nonsense is this?” “Break up? Who else would want a wife like you who smokes, drinks, and has tattoos?” “Look in the mirror. Do you still think you’re eighteen?” As he was berating me, his phone rang. He picked it up, glanced at the screen irritably, but didn’t hang up. Instead, he muted it. Then he impatiently tossed a sentence at me: “The port is urging me. Stop having these ridiculous thoughts. Be good and don’t give me trouble.” I remained silent, watching him leave. Only when Derek’s figure had completely disappeared did I lean against the wall and start vomiting. Seeing the streaks of blood in the vomit, I laughed bitterly. I had just come back from the port. How could I not know whether there was a shipment tonight?

Back in my room, as if possessed, I opened my tablet. Looking at the surveillance software on it, I hesitated. When we were renovating our marital home, I was afraid of being cheated by the workers, so I installed hidden cameras in every corner of the house. It was originally for monitoring the construction. Involuntarily, I opened the software. The quiet scene made me breathe a sigh of relief. But before I could close it, the sound of a door opening came through the monitor. Derek and the young girl in a school uniform urgently entered, kissing passionately. My gaze involuntarily fell on Derek’s “tool” that he said couldn’t be used. Although it was partially blocked by the girl’s body, in the moments when they were frantically removing each other’s clothes, I saw Derek’s erect, engorged state. The two had only half undressed before they urgently began their primal dance. I felt a lump in my throat and almost couldn’t breathe. Covering my mouth, I coughed more severely. But my eyes were glued to the tablet, unable to look away. “Baby, you smell so good. Not like my wife, she reeks of cigarettes.” “Derek, when are you going to come clean with her? I can’t satisfy you all by myself.” “What’s the rush? Don’t you think a 30-year-old virgin is more fun to play with?” “…” My chest ached sharply. Even though I had already decided to give up on this relationship when the young girl came to see me, seeing these scenes still made my tears fall uncontrollably. On the screen, the two had already started another round. They were on the sofa I chose, the carpet, the bed, in the bathroom… Derek held the young girl again and again. “Derek, do you love me?” “I love you to death, my dear Aria.” “Then can you not touch that old woman after you’re married?” Derek responded with actions: “I won’t touch her, it’s all for you…” I remember when Derek and I first confirmed our relationship, he asked if I would mind not having a sex life in the future. I said I wouldn’t. I was even afraid he might feel insecure, so I never held his hand or initiated kisses. I was afraid of hurting his pride. On so many nights, he would hold me, crying, saying, “Evelyn, I really want to have you. I only want you.” I had tried various degrading ways to help him get aroused. But it was all in vain. And now. The young girl in his arms only needed one kiss, and he was ready for action, again and again. I hugged the tablet. They went at it all night. And I watched all night. Until dawn, when the two fell asleep on my marriage bed. Only then did I close the tablet, my eyes sore and my heart in too much pain to breathe.

When I woke up again, Mrs. Wilson was standing by my bed, looking anxious and apologetic. “Ma’am, you’re awake? I’ve called Mr. Song many times, but I assume he must be busy.” I nodded, and suddenly a familiar figure appeared at the door – it was my attending physician. I found an excuse to send Mrs. Wilson away. “Miss Evelyn, have you still not quit smoking?” “Do you know you could die like this? You’re at risk of suffocation at any moment.” After a long silence, I suddenly spoke up. “Dr. Thompson, I don’t want to suffocate to death.” I’ve heard that in the final stages of lung cancer, people die from suffocation. Dr. Thompson was taken aback, then took a deep breath. “I have a friend at a hospital in the Netherlands. If you’re willing, I can help you with the paperwork for…” Just then, Mrs. Wilson suddenly ran over with a phone. “Ma’am, Mr. Song is calling.” She handed me the phone. I hesitated for a moment before answering. But a woman’s voice came from the other end. “Hello? Who are you? Why do you keep calling my husband?” I recognized this voice all too well. It belonged to the girl who had met me at the cafe yesterday and then appeared on the surveillance footage. Mrs. Wilson’s expression became conflicted for a moment. Soon, the sound of an argument came from the other end of the phone. “Aria, why are you using my phone?” “Derek, someone keeps calling you! Do you have another woman?” The man laughed. “What are you talking about? You’re my only baby. This is the housekeeper’s number.” Then the man spoke into the phone, “Mrs. Wilson, is my wife throwing a tantrum again?” “Just make up some excuse. I won’t be coming home for a couple of days, I’m spending time with my baby.” Mrs. Wilson’s expression clearly showed she wanted to stop him, but Derek had already spoken. “I’ve got to go. Oh, and send over that white lace nightgown from the guest room. My baby looks good in it.” With that, Derek hung up. I glanced at Mrs. Wilson. She had been with me for ten years. As long as I had been with Derek, she had been with me. I didn’t say anything, just returned the phone to her and looked back at the doctor. “Please help me with the paperwork.”

After staying in the hospital for a day, I was discharged. I returned home to find the villa still empty and cold. Derek hadn’t come back. I looked at the tablet on the table but didn’t want to open it again. “Mrs. Wilson, please help me pack my luggage.” “Ma’am, Mr. Song, he… he still loves you in his heart, and you’re about to…” As Mrs. Wilson was speaking, my phone screen lit up. I glanced at the euthanasia application form sent by Dr. Thompson and smiled, “Mrs. Wilson, if you still have any regard for our relationship over these years, please don’t tell him about this.” Mrs. Wilson’s words caught in her throat. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I… I really have no choice.” But I had already started packing. I took out all the clothes Derek had bought for me from the wardrobe. Only then did I realize they were all in dull black and gray colors. As if in his heart, I could only wear such colors. I thought of Aria again. Her clothes, jewelry, bags, all came from Derek. But over the years, Derek had never bought me a single piece of jewelry or a bag. He would say, “What do you need those things for?” I packed them all into a large box, planning to donate them to a charity before I left. Halfway through packing, Derek came back. He saw me holding several large boxes in the living room and frowned, “What are you packing for?”

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I Stole the Heiress’s Identity for Fifteen Years For fifteen years, I lived a lie. I was Charlotte Coleman, the beloved daughter of the wealthy Coleman family. But it was all a facade. I wasn’t their real daughter; I was a fraud, an imposter who had taken the place of their true heiress. When the truth finally came out, the Colemans cast me aside like yesterday’s trash. They shipped me off to my biological father without a second thought. No one cared about me anymore. The abuse started immediately. Insults, beatings, wounds both big and small. My body became a canvas of pain and suffering. Then one night, while working at a bar, I saw him. Tall, cold, and imposing. James Zhang. He pressed his cigarette into the back of my hand. The pain was excruciating, but I didn’t make a sound. The hole in my skin felt like it was burning straight through to my heart. Desperate, I fell to my knees and clutched at his sleeve. “James, please,” I begged. “Save me.” He laughed coldly, his eyes devoid of any warmth. “Charlotte Coleman,” he sneered. “Did you ever think this day would come when you caused Rose’s death?”

The pain from the cigarette burn on my hand was more intense than all the other injuries on my body combined. I knelt on the floor, my hair and clothes soaked with spilled drinks. My eyes were lifeless, filled with a deathly emptiness. I clung desperately to the sleeve of the handsome man before me, my face dry of tears but full of hollow determination. “James, please,” I pleaded, staring up at the man I once loved with every fiber of my being. “Save me.” “Boss, don’t fall for it,” someone nearby warned. “This woman’s an expert at playing the victim. Don’t let her fool you.” James frowned, looking down at me – once the proud, arrogant princess of the Coleman family, now groveling at his feet like a stray dog. Suddenly, he smiled. He removed the cigarette from my hand and roughly tilted my chin up, showing no hint of compassion. “Charlotte Coleman,” he said coldly. “Did you ever imagine you’d end up like this when you caused Rose’s death?” My eyes remained empty, the result of countless instances of abuse and humiliation. “I didn’t kill Rose,” I whispered. He kicked me to the ground without mercy, then brushed off his sleeve where I had grabbed it, as if disgusted. “Pathetic,” he spat.

As he turned to leave, I crawled forward and wrapped my arms around his legs. “I promise I won’t love you anymore,” I begged. “Please, just save me.” He frowned, clearly not expecting this. His face twisted with contempt, exuding the air of someone far above me. “Charlotte Coleman, I never thought I’d see you lose your dignity like this,” he sneered. “You should be grateful I haven’t killed you already.” “Ha! Save you? Do you realize you’re lower than a dog right now?” “James, Mr. Zhang, I swear I’ll never love you again,” I pleaded robotically. “Just take me with you.” I clung to his legs as if possessed, my heart numb with pain. But I was used to it by now. Compared to staying alive, what did dignity or pride matter anymore? But he forcefully shook me off, flicking his cigarette butt next to my shoe. “Charlotte Coleman, you need to understand,” he said coldly. “You mean less to me than this discarded cigarette.” Behind me, the people who once fawned over me as the Coleman heiress now looked on with mockery. Another drink was poured over my head, soaking my clothes with red wine. “Look how far the mighty have fallen,” someone sneered. “Wasn’t she so high and mighty before?” another chimed in. “Didn’t she threaten to destroy us if we ever crossed her?” A shoe pressed against my face, but I barely reacted as I slowly stood up. “I’ll clean this up, ladies and gentlemen,” I said tonelessly. “Oh, have you turned over a new leaf?” someone mocked. A female voice cut through the crowd – Megan. Back when I was still Charlotte Coleman, she had a crush on James. I had treated James like my personal property back then, warning off any girl who got too close. Karma really does come back around, I thought bitterly.

Megan smashed a bottle that had been sitting on the table, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “Bitch, come pick up these shards,” she ordered. “And use your hands only.” I walked forward without protest or resistance. Obediently, without a hint of the anger a normal person would feel, I bent down to pick up the broken glass. Her high heel came down on my hand, driving the glass shards into my palm. Blood dripped onto the floor. I didn’t cry out in pain. I just endured it silently. My hand was a mess – a cigarette burn on the back, cuts and blood on the palm, fingers permanently bent and ugly. Megan laughed derisively. “Oh Charlotte, Charlotte,” she taunted. “You couldn’t escape, and now your hand is ruined too.” Seeing that I remained silent, Megan slapped me hard across the face. I fell to the ground from the force of it, my right cheek stinging. But it was nothing compared to what I’d endured over the past few years. “You’ve got the face of a whore,” Megan snarled. “I’ll do you a favor and destroy it!” She suddenly flew into a rage, grabbing a piece of broken bottle and aiming for my face. For a moment, I felt a sense of relief. If my face was ruined, maybe my life would actually improve. But the glass never touched my skin. A voice spoke up from behind me. “Miss Coleman, the CEO sent me to fetch you.” I froze, my heart skipping a beat. It was James’s assistant. I turned around, but even this potential salvation couldn’t bring any life back to my empty eyes. I looked like a person on the brink of death. Because I knew James hated me. But still, a tiny spark of hope flickered in my chest. Nothing could be worse than the daily abuse and torture that made me wish for death. Even if James was leading me into the depths of hell, I would go willingly.

I laughed bitterly to myself. Even though James didn’t love me, he was still the only one in this world of wealth and status willing to save me. Mr. Lee escorted me to another presidential suite – the one Rose used to like. James was sitting on the couch, a smile playing on his lips as he patted the spot beside him. “Sit,” he commanded. I approached timidly but didn’t sit down. My hand was still bleeding, the cigarette burn on the back giving off a faint smell of charred flesh. My back was hunched, my body skeletal, with only my face retaining its outstanding beauty. This was why my biological father had left my face untouched. James suddenly grabbed my hand, and I instinctively tried to pull away. My back hit the couch, and I winced slightly – the wounds there hadn’t healed yet. “Is the princess still too delicate?” he asked maliciously. Then he threw some tissues across the room, as if playing with a dog. “Go fetch those and clean my shoes.” I started to get up, but he added, “On your hands and knees.” Like a puppet on strings, I dropped to my knees and crawled over to retrieve the tissues. Then I crawled back and began polishing his shoes, my face expressionless, as if I’d done this countless times before. Seeing me like this seemed to displease James for some reason. He kicked me over and stepped on my injured hand.

It hurt, but compared to the suffering I’d endured over the years, it was nothing. I looked up at him blankly, my eyes devoid of their former pride, arrogance, and passionate love. There was only emptiness now. Seeing that I didn’t resist, James seemed to lose interest. But for some reason, he suddenly became angry. “Charlotte Coleman, don’t think I’ll forgive you just because you’re playing the victim,” he growled. He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up. My face turned red as I struggled to breathe. Only then did a hint of life seem to return to me. Seeing this, he abruptly let go, throwing me to the ground. “Let me tell you something,” he said. “You killed Rose. You should be grateful I haven’t killed you in return.” I sat on the floor, gasping for air, but I no longer wanted to defend myself. They would rather believe I killed Rose out of jealousy than listen to my explanation. It was true then, and it’s true now. At this point, I just wanted to survive. Only by living could I see any hope. Any thoughts of love had long since been ground away by daily abuse. A moment later, Mr. Lee knocked and entered. “Sir, Charles Coleman is here,” he announced. James gave me a meaningful look. “Let him in,” he said. A familiar face appeared, and my heart filled with fear. My brother, who had doted on me for over a decade before forcefully sending me back to my birth family. “Scared?” James asked with interest, noticing my reaction. I pressed my lips together tightly, saying nothing. Yes, I was afraid. In fact, Charles terrified me even more than James did – this brother who had once spoiled me rotten.

I knew James’s nature well. Even if he hated me, he wouldn’t do anything too extreme. He would never seriously harm a woman. But Charles was different. After Rose’s death, he had become a complete monster. Before I left the Coleman family, he had already broken my fingers. It was James who saw me and sent me to the hospital. The door opened, and I looked up from my kneeling position. A familiar face came into view, eyes filled with hatred as they fell on me. “James, since when did you start meddling in other people’s business?” Charles asked coldly. James sat on the couch, not turning to look at him. He flicked his cigarette ash onto me as I knelt on the floor. A smile played on his lips. “Since when do I need to report my actions to you, Mr. Coleman?” he replied smoothly. I felt a small sense of relief. I was grateful it had been James I encountered earlier. Suddenly, a large hand grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. A hard slap landed on my face. “Who told you to come back, you bitch?” Charles snarled. I remained silent, kneeling on the floor, looking at James as if waiting for his orders. If I was a dog now, I was a dog James had picked up. I belonged to him. James lit another cigarette, watching the scene unfold before him with a slight smirk. He made no move to intervene. My heart sank. I had foolishly thought he might have brought me back out of some lingering sympathy from when I used to like him. Now I realized he just wanted to ensure I suffered even more before I died. I looked up, touching my swollen cheek. “Brother, please stop,” I pleaded. “I didn’t kill Rose. It had nothing to do with me.” I used one hand to prop myself up, trying not to fall over. “Charlotte Coleman, how long are you going to keep up this act?” Charles growled. “Tell me! Is this how you tricked James?” He grabbed my throat. “I didn’t… I didn’t…” I choked out, shaking my head vigorously as tears welled up in my eyes. Seeing the person who was once closest to me now wanting to kill me, I felt a crushing sense of suffocation. My heart, numb for so long, was now filled with sharp, stinging pain.

[Just die. It would be better if I died.] The thought suddenly flashed through my mind, but I quickly pushed it away. I had to live. I still had a future ahead of me. If I died now, what would all my past suffering have been for? My strong will to survive made me struggle fiercely, even as Charles’s hand tightened around my throat. As I closed my eyes, a sense of release washed over me, but it was tinged with regret. No family, no love – in the end, I had nothing left. Even on this scorching summer day, my body felt cold. “Let her go.” That cool voice. I knew it all too well. It was James. “Rose is already dead. Do you want another death on your conscience?” he continued. I fell to the ground, my head spinning, voices echoing around me. Charles shouted like a madman. “She killed my sister! What does it matter if I kill her?” In the end, all my explanations were futile. The accusation of murder seemed to have become a permanent mark on me. I didn’t know who, if anyone, would ever believe me. “Calm down,” James said. “Hah! James, have you gone soft? Didn’t you tell me yourself that you wished she was dead?” Charles sneered. “I said what I wanted to do was my business,” James replied coldly. “If she’s going to die, it should be by my hand.” The sound of a fist slamming on the table accompanied Charles’s angry voice. “She killed Rose, James. You’d better not forget what you said before.”

The door slammed shut. Cold tea was poured on my face, making me open my eyes with a start. I met those icy eyes and shivered. My clothes were in disarray, and there wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t hurt. My face was pale, and sweat beaded on my forehead. James smirked. I should be grateful to him, I thought, but I was too exhausted to speak. “Charlotte Coleman, don’t think you’re off the hook,” he said coldly. “As long as I’m around, you’ll never have an easy day.” Any ripple of emotion I had felt earlier settled back into stillness at his words. After a while, James stood up. “Mr. Lee, get her some clothes,” he ordered. Then he turned to me. “Go clean yourself up. Don’t dirty my room.” He frowned as he looked at my hollow eyes. In his memory, I was that arrogant, domineering heiress. In just a few years, I had become this weak creature who couldn’t even fight back. He used to despise me, but now, seeing me like this seemed to irritate him. He snorted, then, as if he couldn’t stand it anymore, he grabbed my messy hair and said angrily, “Look up.” I raised my head, but there was no trace of my former arrogance. Dissatisfied, he advanced, and I immediately retreated in fear. I had successfully provoked his anger, but he didn’t know that I was no longer the Charlotte Coleman of the past. Even if I tried, I couldn’t pretend to be that bold, willful person anymore. “Get out,” he suddenly said. I froze, and he immediately shouted, smashing a teacup on the table. “GET OUT!” Frightened, I was grabbed and thrown into the bathroom. Standing in the bathroom, I was still dazed. My brow furrowed, and my head throbbed with pain. But I still took off my clothes. In front of the bathroom mirror, I saw a woman with not a single unblemished spot on her body. Skeletal and ugly. But I still felt grateful for this chance to use the bathroom. For years, I hadn’t had the opportunity to take a proper shower. As the water touched my skin, I suddenly felt nauseous. It was sticky, foul-smelling – as if those people’s hands were still on me. Fighting the urge to vomit, I scrubbed my body viciously, as if trying to wash away all the filth from before. I ignored the wounds on my body – new ones, old ones, infected ones. I found it quite laughable. Those without fortune often cling stubbornly to life. Being surrounded by family love now seemed like something from a past century.

A knock on the bathroom door startled me, and I immediately hugged myself defensively. “Miss Coleman, I’ve left the clothes outside the door,” Mr. Lee’s voice came through. My heart, which had leapt into my throat, slowly settled back down. “Thank you,” I said timidly. Another set of footsteps approached outside, and suddenly a wave of fear washed over me. Living in constant fear had become a habit, and I couldn’t trust anyone anymore, not even James, whom I once liked and who had brought me back. My mind suddenly flashed back to a few years ago when this presidential suite was my favorite place to be. Because James was often here. Back then, everyone knew about my crush on James. Even though I knew James didn’t like me, I still arrogantly drove away all the girls who liked him. My feelings were written all over my face; no one could miss how much I liked him. Pain flared up all over my body. I looked at my fingers, permanently bent even after healing. Ugly and unbearable, a constant reminder etched into my bones and blood. The past days consumed me like a bloodthirsty beast, burying my body deep in an abyss. I could never go back to who I was before – not since I was sent back home, thrown into the bathroom by my birth father, my clothes violently torn off. What remained of Charlotte Coleman was just an empty shell, soulless but desperately clinging to life.

Looking at the reflection in the mirror – a delicate face on a skeletal body covered in scars – I suddenly laughed. In the past, I would have been upset by James’s coldness and disgust. But now, there was only a deathly silence in my heart. Was I sad? Yes, but more than that, I just wanted to live. I put on the clothes and frowned slightly. My figure wasn’t as full as it was years ago. James’s clothes hung loosely on me, the neckline plunging to my chest, adding an unintended touch of allure. After searching for a while and not finding any shoes, I walked out barefoot. As soon as I opened the door, my eyes widened. James’s gaze fell on my face, trailed down my neck, and finally settled on my neckline. My thin body couldn’t fill out the clothes properly, but my chest had developed well. His gaze suddenly became intense, making me uncomfortable. My whole body felt like it was burning under his stare. This feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to me. I had developed a conditioned response to men’s thick desire, able to sense it clearly even without words. My body started to tremble with deep-seated fear. I stumbled, trying to leave, but he stepped forward and gripped my arm tightly. His voice was filled with both desire and anger. “Charlotte Coleman, are you deliberately trying to seduce me?”

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My husband, Declan Morgan, has imprisoned me, and I’m too afraid to resist. I witnessed Declan murdering someone and burying the body. The body was my ex-husband. Are there more bodies in the basement? Could Declan be a serial killer? I’m terrified and too scared to find out. Declan noticed my improved spirits recently and decided to take me out for a meal. I steadied my trembling legs and cautiously picked up some food with my chopsticks. “Why aren’t you eating the vegetables?” I kept my head down, obediently reaching for the vegetables with my chopsticks. Being cut off from the outside world for so long makes me feel disconnected. Why hasn’t anyone come looking for me? I do have friends; they like me and invite me out every month. “Nora, is the food not to your taste?” I shook my head. It’s been a long time since I’ve had food this good; it reminds me of my mother’s cooking. But “mother” feels like a distant memory now. Declan seemed in good spirits today and didn’t rush to take me home after dinner. He even took me to an amusement park. Unbelievable. I saw police officers helping a lost child find their parents. I told Declan I wanted some octopus balls from the other side. He left me in a shaded area to wait. I approached the police officers. Yes, I wanted to reveal Declan’s crimes. “I’m sorry, my wife has a history of mental illness. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience.” I’m not sick. But when Declan pulled out my medical records, all my protests became futile. I was taken back home. Declan didn’t blame me. He just held me gently. I felt uneasy. “Why is Nora trembling?” “Is big brother scary?” A little. But how could I tell him that I saw him commit murder and bury the body that night? I don’t want to be the next victim. Even if the deceased was my relative. I nuzzled against his shoulder, trying to please him. A low chuckle spread above me. “Good girl.” It seems instinctive; subconsciously, I feel that doing this means I won’t get hit. Declan stopped taking me out after that. This house has a basement, and when he wasn’t home, I often lingered by the basement door. I was both eager and terrified about what might be behind that dark door. Fortunately, fear outweighed curiosity, and I never went in. But I didn’t realize Declan noticed my every move. Perhaps Declan was being nicer to me. I opened the door. The room was dark. But on the table by the door, I spotted a phone with a lit screen. The table was dusty, but not the phone, as if someone had deliberately placed it there. I took the phone and hid it under the mattress; Declan wouldn’t think to look there.

“What did Nora do today?” Did Declan find out something? “I slept, watched TV, and—thought about you.” During these days of confinement, I learned to please him, or so I thought. He didn’t press me further, which was a relief. “Some friends want to visit. Do you want to see them, Nora?” I didn’t want to, but Declan mentioned my friends. How could someone who illegally imprisoned me dare to invite my friends over? Doesn’t he fear my retaliation? Then again, what can a “mental patient” like me do to him? It was quite lively today. “Nora, is Declan good to you?” “I heard he had a ‘The One That Got Away’ in college; have you ever met her?” In college? I attended the same college as Declan; he was three years ahead of me. Some girls liked him during his sophomore year, but he turned them down. He said he already liked someone. The only interaction I had with him was when he helped me move some things during a sports event, and I sprained my ankle. Yes, I might be the only girl who had close contact with him; his back was broad as he carried little me. My thoughts were interrupted by Declan’s gentle gaze. “Declan is good to me. As for ‘The One That Got Away,’ I’ve never met her.” Sometimes I narcissistically wonder if I’m his ‘The One That Got Away.’ After seeing him kill, I doubt his kindness stems from love. That would be too absurd. “Declan, your wife really defends you in front of others.” The speaker looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember who it was. Ever since Declan confined me at home, my memory has become increasingly jumbled. “This is Ethan Carter; he used to pursue you.” Really? He’s quite handsome and sunny, but he doesn’t seem like someone who would get along with Declan. “Has Phoebe really forgotten about me?” I didn’t know how to respond. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, so it’s normal for Nora not to remember you.” Declan helped me out, but I wasn’t happy at all. If only Ethan could help me escape. Declan is a great cook. When I have no appetite, he always learns new recipes. “Nora, I didn’t expect you to have the best food among us sisters.” “Yeah, our senior is tall, handsome, a big boss, and a great cook. Let us enjoy this for a few days, good sister.” I wish, but I can’t even make it out the door before Declan catches me. Sometimes I feel ungrateful. Why am I not satisfied with such a great man? But he’s a murderer! I need to be alive to enjoy it, and I’m not that lucky.

Something still feels off. Declan didn’t give me a phone or a computer, but he never said I couldn’t use his. So why did I take a phone with no internet? I’m baffled by my own stupidity. “Declan, why don’t I have a computer or phone?” Youth has no price; I questioned my husband face-to-face. Oh, he said I gave him my phone and computer myself and told him not to give them back. But why do I have no memory of this? I probably need to see a doctor. When I powered up the phone, there were several missed calls from unknown numbers. Then there was a call from six months ago. The contact was labeled “Trash.” I’m a polite person; why would I label someone like that? Declan seemed to notice my confusion and told me it was my blind ex. Okay, I was skeptical. “Do you want to go out tomorrow? I have a business trip coming up, and I want to take you with me.” Is he afraid to leave me alone at home? Fine, let’s go. Staying in this house all the time isn’t good for my condition. The coastal place is hot, but the scenery is nice. Declan said it was a business trip, but it felt more like a vacation. He took me out every day, like walking a dog. “Ma’am, your husband, Declan Morgan, is suspected of being involved in a disappearance case. We may need you to come with us.” Did the police find something? I cooperated fully. I thought I would be free if I answered the police’s questions properly. But they only asked about Declan’s whereabouts after he confined me. Wasn’t he always with me? How could he be a suspect? Why can’t the police see that Declan illegally imprisoned me? On the way back home, I looked at Declan with a hint of doubt. Maybe he already guessed what I was thinking. We had lived here for half a month. It was time to leave. A sudden incident stopped us, which was really frustrating. My ex-husband had been missing for a long time, and I hadn’t contacted him since our divorce. But my former in-laws didn’t see it that way. They confronted Declan, demanding to know where their precious son was. It’s laughable. Even now, they don’t see me as a person. I was like a stray dog they took in. “Uncle, Aunt, you must be mistaken. I’ve already divorced your son. His whereabouts have nothing to do with me.” Naturally, I didn’t want to deal with them. “When you contacted me, it wasn’t to bully my wife. As for your son, I’ve heard rumors; he’s probably long gone.” What was Declan talking about? How did he know Finn? Finn’s parents were angry, and his mother raised her hand to slap. As disgusting as ever. “If Finn played around so much, he probably ran into trouble and went to meet his maker.” Declan dared to say it. But it’s the truth—Finn is dead. When he died, I even set off fireworks to celebrate.

Finn’s parents are convinced we know where their son is. They’re constantly hounding us, almost moving into our house, but Declan remains unfazed. After all, the man is dead; show some compassion to his parents. Ethan’s arrival brought me some relief. Ethan served in the military for a few years, and I inexplicably felt admiration and trust for him. “Aren’t you ever going to tell her?” Outside, it was quiet, and Ethan’s voice was jarring. I held my breath for a long time, but Declan didn’t respond. When I opened the door, Declan’s expression returned to the gentle one I knew. All that was left for me was Ethan, red-faced. Angry? Ethan seemed surprised I was awake, cautiously watching me. Of course, I had to pretend I knew nothing. I casually asked Declan to warm up a cup of milk for me. As Declan headed to the kitchen, it was just Ethan and me sitting across from each other on the sofa. After days of subtle probing, I knew by now that Declan would indulge my every whim, as long as it didn’t mean sending him away. Just as Sunny said, he loves me deeply. “Ethan, Sunny mentioned you once pursued me, but I can’t recall it.” Ethan’s face turned pale abruptly. It seemed like there was more to the story. “You know my ex-husband,” I stated firmly. Ethan was startled by my assertion. His bright eyes stared at me, revealing nothing of what he might be thinking. The milk was delightful, and so was Declan. Ethan quickly composed himself and started discussing Finn’s parents with Declan. It turned out that Ethan had already asked his cousin, the bureau chief, to arrange our return. Ethan still had his uses. Despite it being the height of summer, I found myself breaking out in a cold sweat.

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The day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Chloe Baker abandoned me to take care of her childhood sweetheart, Zack, who had threatened to slit his wrists. I called her to say I was feeling awful, but she was only impatient with me: “Zack is seriously hurt. Why don’t you have any sympathy? Why don’t you just say you’re dying too!” I didn’t argue against these venomous words, Because I really didn’t have much time left. I was planning to tell her today, But now I suddenly don’t want to. I will continue to be good to her, And then die in front of her on the day she loves me the most. On the day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, I waited all morning outside city hall for Chloe Baker’s call. “Mia, let’s get our marriage license another day.” “Zack is really sick, he can’t be without me.” I sat numbly on the steps outside city hall, staring at the medical report in my hand. “Can’t someone else take care of him? A nurse, a part-time caregiver? Doesn’t he have any family?” I couldn’t help but feel anxious. I would never have asked such direct questions before. Sure enough, there was silence on the other end of the phone. The next second, a weak male voice suddenly appeared in my ear. “Chloe, can you feel my forehead? Do I have a fever?” The rustling sound of clothes rubbing against each other pierced my ears like needles. I couldn’t help but shout loudly, “Chloe Baker, do you still want to get married or not?” After a moment of confusion on the other end of the phone, she spoke with impatience. “I’m just checking Zack’s temperature, don’t overthink it.” My stomach suddenly burned with pain, “Chloe, I’m sick too. I need you too.” Her voice was very low, accompanied by footsteps and the sound of a door closing, tinged with irritation. “Zack is seriously hurt. Why don’t you have any sympathy? Why don’t you just say you’re dying too.” My body couldn’t help but tremble. I couldn’t hold back anymore. Covering the mouthpiece, I hugged the trash can by the roadside and threw up. I vomited until I was shaking, until there was nothing left to throw up. Maybe I was silent for too long. Her voice became shrill. “Mia Gray, I hate the silent treatment the most. If you’re going to be like this, I need to reconsider whether we should get married.” Before I passed out, I wanted to explain something. But the phone went dead with a beep. I collapsed next to the flower bed.

In my hazy state, I returned to the days I used to spend with Chloe Baker. I thought Chloe was my salvation. We were indeed very sweet once. When I worked overtime, she would keep me company in the office. When she started her company, I provided funding and office space. As her work got busier, I put aside my own work to be her temporary nanny and assistant. Two years after graduation, I thought everything was falling into place naturally, and I proposed to her for the first time. I spent three months preparing for this proposal. It ended in failure just because of Zack’s one sentence, “I’m back.” It was then that I learned Chloe had a childhood sweetheart, who was also her first love.

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. A kind person had sent me here and thoughtfully called my top contact. So when I opened my eyes, I saw Chloe Baker. She was frowning, with a hint of worry. Zack was right next to her. “Thank goodness, Mia, you’re finally awake. Chloe and I were so worried about you.” He stepped forward, thoughtfully blocking Chloe’s view of me. “But, I heard Chloe say you were the 2-mile run champion in college. How did you suddenly faint! And coincidentally, the person who saved you happened to call Chloe.” I glanced at Chloe, and a flicker of suspicion also passed through her eyes. I laughed self-mockingly. After all these years of giving my all to this relationship, I hadn’t even earned a shred of her trust. My tone was cold, “I heard you faint at the sight of blood, so is that why there’s conveniently only such a small wound on your wrist?” When Chloe was on the phone with me, I thought it was a serious injury. Now looking at it, there was just a small scrape on his wrist, not even a scar, just a red mark. Chloe rolled her eyes at me. “Zack is different from you. He’s an artist and values his hands the most. Even a small injury would affect his performance.” For the first time, I felt like Chloe had become someone I didn’t recognize. “Is it as serious as when I broke my hand for you?” He’s an artist, but I used to be one too. She used to say my hands were precious too. But to me, she was the most precious. In our junior year, we went on a plein air painting trip. She encountered a criminal in the middle of the night, and I stepped forward, holding onto the criminal without letting go, allowing her to escape. But my hand was broken as a result, leaving me with aftereffects, unable to feel the delicacy of a brush in my hand anymore. At that time, she was full of guilt towards me. She told me that no matter whether I could create good artwork in the future, I would always be the greatest artist in her heart. I remember every word she said. But her? She’s probably forgotten.

Chloe’s face turned ugly, “Everything you did for me was voluntary. I just said a few words, and you want to bring up old scores to emotionally blackmail me?” I suddenly felt very tired. When she scolded me in front of others, saying I was reaching above my station, I thought if only I tried a little harder. When she flirted with other guys, I thought it was because I wasn’t capable enough to make her look up to me. Later, when my career took off and I finally had the qualifications to be with her, she was sometimes aloof, sometimes sweet-talking. I thought it was because I hadn’t given her enough sense of security, so I wanted to give her everything I had. In the past, no matter how she treated me, I could always find a reason. But this time. I couldn’t find one. If she knew I was going to die, what would her attitude be? Would she have even a hint of regret? How long would she regret? After the regret, would she think she could finally be with her childhood sweetheart openly? My stomach hurt badly. I wasn’t resigned to dying like this. Even if just for a moment, I wanted her to feel the same pain I felt.

I lowered my eyelashes slightly, my voice low, showing a vulnerable appearance. “I’m sorry, you know I love you, that’s why I don’t want you to leave me.” There were feelings between Chloe and me. Not just because I was devoted enough to her, but also because my looks were good enough. I had the kind of appearance she liked, neither too dark nor too fair, with a good balance of gentleness and masculinity. Sure enough, her expression softened a bit. I seized the opportunity to add fuel to the fire, almost on the verge of tears. “We were so close to getting married.” “I don’t want to force you, but if you don’t have me in your heart, then let’s just go our separate ways, and I’ll never bother you again.” Humans. A species that likes to take advantage but will tell everyone they don’t care. Chloe obviously couldn’t escape this trait. She enjoyed my gentleness and possessed my emotions. She liked the sense of achievement of being unique in my world. But she was unwilling to admit this. However, she wouldn’t be willing to let me give up my investment in her either. Moreover, she had also invested some feelings in our relationship, more or less. Even if not much. She also felt she had given something. Sunk cost would make everyone feel they had lost out. She panicked. For a moment, I couldn’t tell if she was sincere or not. Her eyes were red, and she angrily rebuked my words, “What do you mean? Who said you could go your own way and leave me?!” I stared at her unblinkingly, took a deep breath, and turned to look out the window. My stomach was throbbing with pain. So was my heart. For a moment, I couldn’t distinguish between my own sincerity and pretense. “Chloe Baker, I’ve waited too long, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Chloe eventually said some nice words to me. She said it was just bad timing before, and when she had time, she would go get our marriage license with me. Before she could finish speaking. Zack suddenly fainted. I watched his eyelashes flutter slightly as he closed his eyes, wanting to say something. The woman who had just made promises to me a second ago was now anxiously holding another man. She was shouting, “Doctor, help…” I couldn’t say anything anymore. Zack was carried away by the doctors. Chloe followed closely behind, pausing at the door and turning back. I unconsciously gripped the bedsheet tightly. Had she decided to stay and keep me company? Her voice was dry, “Mia, you probably just have low blood sugar. Now that you’re awake, go home early. Zack hasn’t been well these past few days, and only I understand his physical condition. I’m not comfortable with others taking care of him.” I see. I nodded understandingly. Hearing my voice, word by word. “Mm, this is just a minor illness for me. You go ahead, I’ll wait for you at home.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “I knew you would understand me.” With that, she left without looking back. Soon, I also got up to leave. The doctor stopped me, looking left and right. “You’re already in the late stages of stomach cancer, you must be hospitalized immediately. Where’s the family member who was just beside you?” I looked at him calmly. “That was her, my soon-to-be wife. She’s gone to take care of her ex-boyfriend.” The doctor looked embarrassed, but I didn’t care. “Doctor, I understand that this disease can’t be cured even if I try. Forget it.”

I went to the jewelry store to pick up the custom-made ring I had ordered. This ring was designed by Chloe and me together. It even had the initials of our names “MG&CB” engraved on it. Chloe didn’t like those rings that the store clerks said were uniquely designed by designers. She dragged me along to design it, and the jewelry store crafted it. Her eyes reflected my image, her smile dazzling, “This isn’t just a wedding ring we exchange at our ceremony, more importantly, when we wear this ring in the future, we’ll be able to think of and feel each other’s presence.” “After we’re married, wearing the ring will mean we won’t be lonely whether we’re by each other’s side or not, so it can’t be casual.” She held my hand as we drew designs, again and again. At that time, I thought her so-called childhood sweetheart wasn’t really important. Otherwise, why would she accept my proposal in the second week after my failed attempt? I was about to call a ride-share to go home. While waiting for the car, Zack and Chloe entered the jewelry store next door. He was teasing her, and her face was flushed. It seems the doctors at the hospital I went to were really skilled, there wasn’t a trace of illness on him. I was frozen, unable to move. It wasn’t until the ride-share driver called that I suddenly came back to my senses. “I’m sorry, something came up. I won’t be going.” Like a thief peeking at others’ happiness, I hid in a corner outside the window where they couldn’t see me. I found a store clerk at the entrance and gave her $50. After they came out of the store, I went in. She looked me up and down sympathetically. “Are you that woman’s boyfriend? That guy brought the woman to pick up a ring, said it was designed when they broke up.” “The woman was so touched she cried, she said she always knew he had designed a ring for her back then, it’s a rose, with their name initials.” “The woman asked the man if it was because she accepted Mia Gray’s proposal that he was stimulated into taking action…” I listened to this entire $50 worth of conversation like a wooden puppet. So, the idea for the ring came from Zack. She must have calculated it all when designing the ring. Even if Zack didn’t react after the proposal. One day, this ring would also stimulate Zack, reminding him of their loving relationship. She had always hoped Zack would never forget her, hoped Zack would regret. Accepting my proposal was just part of her plan to win Zack back. My heart turned to ashes. The last bit of love I had for Chloe Baker disappeared.

I made dinner at home and waited for her to return. As usual, I wore a gentle smile. I put Chloe’s bag on the rack. “You must be tired from accompanying your friend. I’ve made your favorite dishes.” She half-closed her eyes, enjoying my shoulder massage. On the dining table, the dishes were arranged neatly and cleanly. I smiled with narrowed eyes. “Chloe, do you remember what I said to you when I proposed the second time?” “How could I forget, you said you would never let me down, or else you’d die. You were too harsh.” “Then do you remember what you promised me?” “Huh?” “You said very seriously that if you ever let me down, you would never have peace for the rest of your life.” She seemed a bit dazed, avoiding my eyes. “Really? Did I say that? I can’t seem to remember clearly.” I chewed the meat bite by bite, smiling broadly. “It’s okay if you forgot, as long as I remember.” “Why are you bringing this up?” “Nothing, I was just thinking, you’ll definitely love me for a lifetime, right?”

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During the extreme heatwave, I delivered a substantial amount of precious supplies to my beloved fiancé. He claimed that his mom thought I was stingy and cheap. Both of them even had the audacity to come to my house and take over. Later, I discovered that my fiancé was the mastermind behind all the deceit. He not only sold the water and food his mom had given me at exorbitant prices but also handed my supplies to the other woman. He even locked his mom and me out, hoping the sun would bake us. But he forgot, neither his mom nor I are easily defeated. If he likes the other woman so much, they might as well bake together on the streets, clinging to each other, never to part. “Declan, did you get the supplies?” I sat in the shade of my house, sipping the precious water. The TV was showing news of heat-related deaths. I sighed, turned off the TV, and continued, “I spent quite a bit of money and resources to have them delivered…” Before I could finish, Declan interrupted impatiently. “My mom says you’re too stingy!” “How is this little bit of water enough for anyone?” This little bit of water? Does his mom realize how scarce water is now? I suppressed my irritation, screwed the cap back on, and carefully placed it in a cool spot. “Do you know how tight water is right now? If your mom doesn’t want it, she shouldn’t drink it!” “If they don’t want it, give it back, I’ll drink it myself!” At this point, Declan seemed to change his tune and quickly explained. “Babe, my mom might dislike you, but I don’t. You did stock up a lot of supplies before… How about sending a bit more over?” I looked at the storage room filled with water and food. I wasn’t short on supplies, but giving them to Declan was okay, giving them to his mom was not. I always thought his mom was a two-faced deceiver. Before the temperatures rose, his mom promised me five gifts and a $10,000 dowry. But what I got were three gifts, and the dowry never appeared. Yet, in front of me, she acted all polite. Whenever I went to their house, she prepared a table full of food and praised me for being a pretty girl. Even at the beginning of this ordeal, she kept thinking of me, telling me to take care of myself. She sure put on a good act, but now her true colors are showing. “Finish what you have first, then we’ll talk.” I hung up and walked to the window. Carefully, I pulled the curtain to peek outside. There wasn’t a soul on the street, just some bodies dried by the sun. Anyone going out at noon would either be dehydrated to fainting or be peeled like an onion by the sun. I quickly shut the curtain and lay back on my bed. My mother-in-law messaged me on SnapChat. “Rosalie, how have you been lately?” “Do you have enough to eat and drink? If not, I’ll have someone bring some over tonight?” I assumed she was being sarcastic, so I replied, “Sure, I’m about to die of thirst at home.” “Unlike you, who still have water to drink!” She immediately called, sounding genuinely worried. “Rosalie, are you okay? If you need anything, I can bring some supplies tonight.” “Sure.” I casually picked at my nails. She’s just saying that. Everyone knows she’s just pretending. But I didn’t expect that night she actually came with a bunch of stuff. Declan followed her, wearing his usual sour face. “I told you not to come. Do you want people to sleep or not?”

My mother-in-law gave me a helpless smile and then placed the bags in the living room. Even at one in the morning, both she and Declan were drenched in sweat. I handed a tissue to Declan to wipe his sweat, but my mother-in-law pulled him toward the door. “Rosalie, don’t be stingy with yourself. If you run out, I’ll find a way to bring more.” Then she urged Declan to go home. “Come on, it’ll be hard to travel once the sun’s out.” Declan stared at the slightly open storage room door. Then, with a smile, he pushed his mother’s hand away. “Mom, I’m staying. I want to spend more time with Rosalie.” I was surprised by Declan’s initiative. I was usually the one begging him to stay. His mother looked troubled. “But I can’t drive…” Awkwardly, she took the car keys Declan handed her, standing helplessly by the door. “Fine, stay here tonight.” I pointed to the guest room, “You can use this room.” His mother immediately agreed, “Thank you for the trouble.” I didn’t want to deal with her, so I waved her off and wrapped my arm around Declan’s as we walked to the bedroom. Since I was in a good mood, I decided not to fuss with her today. Declan held me, dreaming of life after the heatwave, assuring me he only loved me. His phone kept buzzing, so he reluctantly let go to reply to messages. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw he was texting a girl I didn’t recognize. “Who is she?” Declan quickly shut his phone. “I don’t know her.” He brushed it off. I still felt uneasy because I saw the word “baby.” Declan, seeing my disbelief, kissed my lips and swore nothing was going on. But I underestimated him and overestimated my own intelligence. The night passed, and it was another unbearably hot morning. Sweat soaked my pillow and sheets. I woke up to my mother-in-law knocking on my door. Groggy, I sat up and noticed Declan was gone. I opened the door, and she asked, “Rosalie, do you know where Declan went?” “I heard the door early in the morning, and even the car keys are gone…” Worried, I tried calling him, but his phone was off. “The sun’s so strong now; what if something happens to him…” I feared something had happened to Declan. But what on earth was he doing outside? Before I could think further, messages popped up in the residents’ group chat. “Such a good person! Now, water and food are worth a fortune, and someone’s willing to sell to us!” Attached was a picture of supplies. Everyone was begging for the contact details. “No rush, he’s on our floor. If you need anything, just wait; he’ll sell it to you.” Risking life for money, huh? I rolled my eyes but found the supplies in the picture oddly familiar. Evian water, Ferrero, and red-boxed eggs… They looked a lot like my stockpile.

I rushed to the storage room and opened the door. The neatly arranged food and water were now a mess. The supplies meant to last me through the summer were mostly gone. Declan had taken my supplies to make money? I stood there, stunned. I didn’t know how to face him. I had agreed yesterday that what’s mine is his. But I didn’t think he’d be so shameless. My mother-in-law knocked, pulling me back to reality. “Sorry to disturb you, but you have so much food and water…” I frowned and snapped, “Don’t get any ideas!” “That’s not what I meant!” She waved her hands, “I have plenty myself.” “I’ve just noticed Declan acting suspiciously lately, so I didn’t tell him.” I reflexively defended Declan, “Don’t talk about him like that!” Then I locked the storage room door with the key. Declan and I had been together since college. Other than his bad temper, I thought he had no faults. My mother-in-law opened her mouth, then closed it. Eventually, she asked, “So why did you send back some of the supplies I gave you yesterday?” “Bullshit! Besides last night, when did you send me anything?” I snapped. “Are you losing your mind, old lady? I sent you stuff the day before yesterday!” I rolled my eyes at her fake politeness. My mother-in-law, seeing my disbelief, showed me her SnapChat conversation with the delivery person, from booking to departure. It didn’t look fake. “The delivery guy almost left with the goods, but Declan stopped him. He said he missed you and wanted to deliver them himself.” “Shortly after, we received your supplies.” I clenched my fists, staring at her. “If you were so kind, why didn’t you send all five gifts?” Now it was her turn to be shocked. “I gave everything to Declan! Including your ten thousand!” “I know you don’t like me, so I thought I’d let him give it to you… He didn’t?” She showed me the purchase receipt and transfer details. It was all true. I deflated like a punctured balloon, slumping onto the couch, unwilling to accept it. Before I could process it, someone banged on the door. “Screw you! You’ve got supplies and sell them at high prices?” “If you’ve got good stuff, share it! Robbery is what this is!” The stranger pounded so hard it seemed they wanted to break the door. My mother-in-law and I jumped to our feet, startled, and looked towards the door. Then Declan’s voice came through. “Hey, buddy, take it easy. How about I sell you a bottle at a discount?” “I charge others five hundred bucks, but I’ll let you have it for three hundred a bottle, okay? I’ve only got two left, you…” “You’re asking for it!” The sound of fists hitting flesh followed. Just hearing it made me wince. “Help! Mom! Phoebe! Open the door and save me!”

Declan was pounding on the door, trying to dodge the man’s attacks. I was about to open it, but my mother-in-law shook her head, signaling me not to get involved. But the noise outside grew louder, and even Declan went silent. Terrified, I finally opened the door. My mother-in-law and I peeked outside to see what was happening. “Damn! None of you are worth a damn!” The man was huge and yanked me out the door with one pull. A wave of heat hit me, making me feel like I might faint. My mother-in-law quickly followed. “Boom!” We all turned to look at the door. Only to see Declan, who had been lying on the ground, back inside. With a “click,” he locked the door. The man was dizzy but sneered, “Is that what you call a man?” My mother-in-law wiped her sweat and banged forcefully on the door. “Declan, are you crazy? Open the door and let us in!” “Declan! Declan!” Despite the heat, my heart felt cold. “I don’t hit women,” the man said dismissively. He let go of me, picked up the two bottles of water from the ground, and went upstairs. The unbearable heat, combined with the exertion, made the burly man collapse. But he still held onto those precious bottles of life-saving water. “Declan, open the door! Do you want us to die here?” Sweat dripped from my mother-in-law onto the ground. Her breathing was already unsteady. I held her, telling her to stop banging on the door. “He won’t open it.” I felt strangely calm. “I see it now; he’s just a money-loving scumbag.” “So we need to conserve our energy. If we don’t, we’ll surely die from the heat in less than two hours.” My mother-in-law nodded, sitting down to catch her breath. My eyes stung, but I couldn’t cry. The man on the stairs lay motionless; he was probably dead. And as the sun moved west, more sunlight filled our hallway. Heat radiated from my body, my lips cracked, and I had no strength to stand. Thirsty… so thirsty… My mother-in-law had closed her eyes. I patted her, telling her not to sleep. I crawled over to the man to avoid the sunlight. He was dead, lying in a pool of water. I felt like crying, but my hand kept moving to grab the water. “I’m sorry…” I clutched the two bottles of water tightly and hurried back to my mother-in-law, letting her drink. We each had a bottle, gulping down the water like addicts. We drank every drop, yet the scorching weather still left us parched and dry. My eyelids grew heavier, and I was about to drift off when the door opened. “Come in!”

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Once upon a time, I was a doormat. Not only did I spend all my money on my girlfriend, but I also followed her around like a puppy, catering to her every whim. I even washed her underwear. Yet, my girlfriend treated me with contempt, using my money to support her first love. The two of them spent their days together, rarely coming home. Then, I died of cancer. My girlfriend and her first love held their wedding. I watched as the roses I had carefully tended withered away, and I saw her life gradually deteriorate into something worse than a pig or dog’s. Yet, I felt nothing. She regretted it eventually, praying to every god and buddha, desperately begging for my return. I died from a terminal illness. Before I went to the hospice, Mia was still arguing with me, all because I didn’t want her to have dinner with her first love, Jason, that day. She accused me of being jealous, saying that over the years, it was Jason who had helped her in her career, while I had been useless. Jason was her first love and now her boss. I had intended to tell her about my illness that day and ask her to accompany me to the hospice, but at that moment, my heart turned cold. I shut the door tightly and refused to let her leave. She scratched my arms until they bled. “Lucas Wilson, what right do you have to compare yourself to him? You’re not even worth his little toe. If I could be with him, I would have been long ago. How could it ever be your turn?” With my last hope shattered, I finally let her go. I packed a simple bag alone, took my cat Jerry, and went to a mountain resort hospice. After just two months, my body couldn’t hold on any longer. During that month, she hadn’t called me once or sent a single message. After I died, perhaps due to some lingering attachment, my soul refused to leave and floated back to Mia’s side. I saw Mia contacting Jason more frequently after I left. I saw her dolling herself up like a young girl before each date. I saw her celebrating Jason’s birthday, even making a handmade music box, not caring that she cut her hands in the process. I saw her rushing out to meet Jason at his beck and call, rain or shine, never refusing. I saw her occasionally stumble upon my things at home, pausing for a moment, then checking her phone for missed calls or unread messages. When there were none, she would say, “This time you’re really being stubborn, not contacting me for over a month. You’re so paranoid. Let’s see how long you can hold out this time.” In our five-year marriage, I could never measure up to Jason’s place in her heart. Perhaps from the very beginning, I meant nothing to her. My relentless pursuit before marriage and attentive care after marriage only made her think that maybe I wasn’t so bad at a marriageable age. It turns out that after all these years, I still couldn’t warm even half of her heart. Just when I thought Mia had forgotten about me and would naturally end up with Jason, he asked about the necklace he had given her during their naive first love. She couldn’t find it at home and suddenly remembered me, frantically calling my number, “Where’s my necklace? Did you pick it up and put it somewhere again?” “I told you not to touch my things, don’t touch my things. Always pretending to be sick and weak, who are you trying to impress?”

The call was answered by a caregiver at the hospice. In my final stages, I was tormented by cancer pain every day. This kind brother of a caregiver patiently listened to my troubles, helped massage me to relieve my pain, and assisted me in many ways. “Ms. Thompson, this is Safe Haven Hospice. Mr. Wilson passed away from cancer two months ago. Mr. Wilson specifically instructed me before he died that if Ms. Thompson called, to ask her to come to the hospice. He has some things to give you.” His tone was polite but distant. “What kind of trick are you playing now?” Mia was shocked. “Mr. Wilson is dead, Ms. Thompson. He died here at the hospice, tormented by cancer. You will never see him again.” “I don’t know what kind of joke you’re making, but tell Lucas it’s not funny at all! Please tell him that my necklace is very important. If he helped me pick it up, please make sure he brings it over as soon as possible. We’re all very busy, not like him, who can idle away his time day trading stocks and dreaming up big plans. Thank you.” My job was a securities economist, with flexible working hours and high income. I was solely responsible for all expenses at home, including buying the house, the car, and all other big and small expenditures. But in Mia’s eyes, because my job allowed me to take better care of the house, I became someone who didn’t have a proper job. “Ms. Thompson, I think it would be better if you came here in person. Mr. Wilson left behind a cat. I’m taking care of it now, but it’s clearly unhappy. I think it might cheer up if it were with you.” “A cat? I’ve told him long ago to get rid of that cat. Now he doesn’t want to keep it and wants to dump it on me? No way!” With that, she angrily hung up the phone.

Mia’s face was full of anger, and she couldn’t help but curse me even after hanging up the phone, “Terminal illness, huh? Lucas Wilson, do you really think you’re some TV drama protagonist? Getting a terminal illness to keep me by your side, what a cliché plot!” In the end, she searched every nook and cranny of the house but couldn’t find the necklace. With her neck feeling bare, she went to her date. After hearing about this, Jason said sarcastically, “Lucas Wilson’s skills might not be great, but his temper sure is. Can’t even tolerate a necklace. Never mind, I’ll buy you an identical one.” I watched them happily go to the mall together. Clearly, that phone call hadn’t stirred any emotions in her. Whether I lived or died didn’t matter to her. Perhaps, whether I lived or died didn’t matter to anyone, except Jerry. I was an orphan, growing up in an orphanage, never knowing who my parents were. After graduating from college, I was introduced to Mia by a classmate and fell in love at first sight. Having grown up in an orphanage, I was somewhat introverted and lonely, without many friends. Initially, Mia was lively and outgoing. After being with her, I became more sunny and confident than before. I originally thought she was my salvation, but I didn’t know she had a “perfect first love ex-boyfriend” whom she had dated for many years. After we got married, she changed jobs, and Jason became her boss. Their old feelings were rekindled. When I found out, I wanted to win her back. Having never received family warmth since childhood, I was afraid of losing this hard-won happiness. But perhaps because I cared too much, I became sensitive and jealous. I didn’t let her go out alone with Jason, nor did I want them to contact each other. Mia hated me for this. The more I forbade her, the more she did it, constantly angering me. Now it’s good. She angered me to death, and she’s free.

When Mia returned from her date, she faced a mess at home. In the past, I was always the one tidying up. Because I spent more time at home, I took care of all the household chores, big and small, including washing Mia’s underwear. Mia had hardly ever done any housework, so this time, when her necklace went missing, her first thought was to look for me. She cleared a spot on the sofa and lay down, holding the newly bought necklace in her hand. The old style had long been discontinued, so Jason had bought her a new one. She stared at the ceiling, as if looking into my eyes, but even now, I didn’t know what she was thinking. Was she feeling any sadness about my death, or was she just reminiscing about her past with Jason? But at this moment, I no longer had the fondness and obsession for her that I had when I was alive. Looking at her was like looking at a stranger. Finally, she called a housekeeping service to clean up. The housekeeper cleared out some wedding photos stored under the bed. Throughout our marriage, Mia never let me hang these wedding photos in the house, saying she didn’t think she looked good in them. In the photos, the groom looked jubilant, while she only smiled in each picture. I remember that when we were taking the photos, the photographer told jokes to make us laugh and imagine a beautiful life. I easily got every point the photographer made, laughing loudly and heartily. But Mia only smiled shyly. At the time, I thought she was just shy and couldn’t relax. In fact, maybe she didn’t want to marry me even then. She probably just felt sorry for me being such a doormat and gave me a marriage, making me feel like I had the whole world. Mia had the housekeeper stuff the photos back under the bed, as if having me as a husband was something she wanted to keep hidden.

Today was her birthday. Jason had booked a high-end restaurant early to celebrate with her. Mia carefully dolled herself up. She wanted to find a red evening gown we had bought together, but she couldn’t find it anywhere. The evening gown was at the dry cleaners. I had taken it there to be cleaned, but because of my sudden illness, I never picked it up. “That dead Lucas, never good for much except tidying up all day, and now he’s lost things and is playing dead with me. He’s made me search everywhere and I still can’t find it.” She had to wear another dress to go out. Jason had prepared a candlelit dinner for her, and they looked sweet and happy together. Midway through the meal, Jason received a phone call. On the other end was Jason’s ex-wife, saying their child was very sick and hoping he could come to the hospital. “If you can’t come, can you at least send some money? I just paid rent recently, and the doctor says we need to pay a $5,000 deposit for hospitalization. You’re not paying child support, and I really have no other option. The child has your blood too, don’t you feel bad that he’s suffering?” “Money, money, money. I don’t have any money. I’m so broke I can’t even pay my phone bill, and you’re asking me for money? No child support, if you have the guts, go sue me.” Jason angrily hung up the phone and even turned it off. Who would have thought that Jason, who seemed so refined in public, could be so cold-blooded, not even caring about his own flesh and blood. When Jason returned to the table, Mia asked who had called. He only said it was something from work, lying without a hint of guilt. Oh, Mia, Mia, you think you’ve found the perfect man, but can you really see clearly what’s behind this man?

Jason gave Mia a gift-wrapped birthday present and tentatively asked her, “Aren’t you afraid your husband will be angry that you’re out celebrating your birthday with someone else?” “It’s a happy day, don’t mention him. I still don’t know where he’s messing around.” “He’s not even here for your birthday? Huh, he must have someone else outside,” Jason asked with ill intent. Mia paused for a moment, then smiled casually, “Who would be with him? He’s an orphan with no background and no connections. Only I took pity on him and stayed with him for five years. He even has the audacity to argue with me at home. I don’t know where he gets the confidence.” Mia was still the same, easily falling for others’ provocations. When Mia got home and opened the gift, it was a ceramic doll with her name engraved on the bottom. Mia was clearly disappointed with this cheap gift. Now that I think about it carefully, Mia was actually a bit vain. Exquisite makeup and hair, proper clothing, and fixed twice-monthly beauty salon treatments. In the past, I always paid when we went shopping, and I always topped up her cards when they were empty. Several thousand dollars spent each month, and Mia never asked for details. They say loving someone is like tending a flower. I nurtured her into a blooming rose, but the flower was picked by someone else, leaving me with nothing but thorns. Perhaps remembering something, Mia tried to call me again, but the phone was turned off. Mia angrily threw the phone away, “Lucas Wilson, if you have the guts, never come looking for me again.” She still didn’t believe I was dead. She thought I was still angry and refusing to talk to her. But now, no matter how capable I am, I can never look for her again.

Jason and Mia planned to go for a walk in the park. Not long after entering the park, Jason sprained his ankle. Mia helped the limping Jason sit down on a park bench, went to the kiosk to buy a few cold drinks, and carefully used a handkerchief to wrap them and place them on his foot to cold compress it. “Mia, I’m sorry for ruining your mood.” “It’s nothing, we can come out again next time.” “Mia, you’re so good. I really don’t understand why that Lucas Wilson doesn’t know how to cherish you. He’s an orphan, yet he dares to argue with you. He’s really getting ahead of himself.” “It’s getting late, let’s go.” Hearing his words, Mia looked a bit displeased and stood up, urging to go home. “I’m sorry, Mia. I shouldn’t have said that about him. I just can’t stand seeing him neglect you like this.” “I’m a bit tired too, let’s go back early.” Mia said perfunctorily. “We haven’t eaten yet.” “I have some work to deal with this afternoon. You can go eat by yourself.” Mia picked up her bag and was about to leave. “Mia, wait for me.” Jason panicked and hurriedly tried to follow her, but due to his injured foot, he could only hop step by step. “Mia, just have a meal with me, please. Look at me, I can’t even climb stairs easily. Just help me out, okay?” Mia ultimately couldn’t refuse Jason. She agreed. Jason revealed a triumphant smile. This tactic of advancing by retreating was indeed clever, especially effective on Mia, who had feelings for him.

Mia drove the car into the restaurant and ordered a few dishes according to Jason’s taste. Midway through the meal, Mia seemed to be feeling unwell, constantly frowning and rubbing her temples. Jason noticed and asked with concern: “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” Mia nodded, “I feel a bit dizzy.” They hurriedly ate a few more bites, and Jason called a designated driver to take Mia and himself home. When Mia got home and took her temperature, it was 101.3°F. She looked very uncomfortable. Because Jason had insisted on eating in the afternoon, and tomorrow was a workday, she had a pile of documents on her computer that she needed to work overtime to process. I saw her open the refrigerator, take out a large bottle of ice-cold mineral water, and gulp down several mouthfuls. She shook her dizzy head, took a Tylenol, and then opened her computer to start working overtime. During this time, Jason kept calling and messaging her to chat. She could only respond while working. By the time she closed her computer, it was late at night. She was covered in cold sweat, curled up on the sofa clutching her stomach in pain. I saw her scroll to my contact in her phone, hesitate for a long time without pressing call, then switch to the dialer and call 911. She was taken to the hospital alone. Fever plus acute gastroenteritis. The doctor urgently put her on an IV and prescribed medication. Because it was late at night and no caregiver could be found, she had to pay the fees, buy hospital gowns, and get medication herself once her condition slightly improved. After everything settled, she lay on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, silently shedding a few tears. They say the highest level of loneliness is going to the hospital alone. I don’t know what she was thinking at that moment, but she looked very helpless and pitiful. It would be best if she died from the pain, I smirked coldly to myself. In the past, when Mia was sick, I would always be heartbroken, taking care of her attentively, waiting on her hand and foot. But for her current state, I no longer had any feelings.

During my last few days alive at the hospice, I wanted to give her a call in my final moments when I felt so helpless. Her tone was as cold and disdainful as ever, each word like a knife cutting into my heart. Now history repeats itself, but with reversed roles. She can’t even endure half the pain I went through? Mia stayed in the hospital for 3 days. During this time, Jason came to visit once, limping and saying he wanted to stay at the hospital to take care of her. Mia refused, saying he was a patient himself who needed care, how could he take care of her? After that, he didn’t mention it again. When Mia was discharged, he was at work and called a car for her. Mia packed up by herself and went home. When she got home, the place was still a mess. A thin layer of dust had settled on everything. Mia opened the curtains, and the choking dust made her cough, her body just recovered from illness. She called the cleaning company again to have someone tidy up. After the cleaning was done, the doorbell rang. It was Mrs. Johnson from next door, bringing a bowl of meatball soup. “Mia dear, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you and your husband. I heard from your husband that you love my meatball soup, so I made a big bowl today and wanted to share some with you two. Eat it while it’s hot.” “Thank you.” Mia looked a bit awkward. She was busy with work and wasn’t very familiar with the neighbors upstairs and downstairs. “By the way, how’s your husband’s meatball soup coming along?” “What?” Mia was confused. “Didn’t he say last time that you love my meatball soup? He came over specially to learn from me, so I taught him a few tricks. Your husband is so good to you, unlike my old-fashioned husband who doesn’t know how to care for people.”

After Mrs. Johnson left, Mia sat at the dining table, holding the bowl of meatball soup for a long time without touching it. Mia liked spicy and strong flavors, which had always been bad for her stomach, often causing her stomach pain. But she extremely liked Mrs. Johnson’s meatball soup. The meatball soup was light and clear, with some winter melon and hand-made meatballs. Some scallions floated on the surface, but the flavor was rich. Mrs. Johnson said this was because she simmered it on low heat to bring out all the savory flavors of the meat. To help Mia eat less spicy food and take care of her stomach, when I was alive, I often asked Mrs. Johnson for advice and learned to make meatball soup. I would simmer the meatball soup on low heat for 3 hours, add some winter melon cooked until soft, carefully remove the layer of oil on top of the soup, sprinkle some scallions, and time it perfectly so it would be ready just as Mia came home from work. She could always eat three bowls each time. Thinking of my foolishness in the past, I now feel it wasn’t worth it at all. Love should be given to those who deserve to be loved. For those who don’t love you, no matter how much you do, it’s not worth mentioning in their eyes. As Mia was drinking the soup, she suddenly received a phone call, “Is this Ms. Thompson? This is the insurance company. Our big data has observed that your husband Mr. Wilson’s ID has been cancelled, so we’re calling to inform you. The various expenses for Mr. Wilson’s hospital treatment that exceed the deductible can now be claimed. You’ll need to bring his death certificate, all treatment examination records and invoices…” Mia was stunned. The phone in her hand had unknowingly fallen to the ground, and she couldn’t hear clearly what was still being said on the other end.

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On our wedding anniversary, I had meticulously planned everything, eager to spend this special day with my wife. But when I got home, I found her closely interacting with her fitness trainer, Alex. With a dismissive look, Alex said, “Nora, we’re so close; your husband won’t mind, right?” Nora replied, unconcerned, “You’re just here to help me with my workout. Why would he be upset?” Then she turned to me, “Didn’t I tell you I had a workout scheduled today? Why are you back?” My heart instantly felt like it had turned to ice. “I just came to pick up something.” Nora scoffed, “Always so forgetful!” “And what’s with the necklace in your hand?” I managed a strained smile, “Saw it, thought it looked nice, so I bought it.” Once outside, I threw the necklace onto the curb with frustration. I had no reason to return home. I just didn’t want to leave in disgrace, so I pretended to search for something in the bedroom. The room was a mess, cluttered with workout gear and sweaty towels, making my stomach churn. I glanced at our wedding photo on the wall; my side of the image was scratched out. With a bitter smile, I left the room. In the living room, Nora was in snug workout gear, stretching under Alex’s guidance. Her face flushed, she playfully complained, “My muscles are so sore. Can’t you be a little gentler?” My heart was heavy with bitterness. She only strained her back while working out, yet constantly needed Alex’s “guidance.” After all, Alex was the one she couldn’t stop thinking about! He looked at me, smugly, “The necklace you bought, was it for Nora?” “Oh, if I had known you were going to give one, I wouldn’t have given the same!” Before I could respond, Nora frowned at me, “Do you have to mimic Alex in everything?” “I never see you being this thoughtful!” I didn’t know how to explain, so I remained silent. Nora sneered, “If you’re done here, just leave. You’re in the way!” My heart ached unbearably. When we were in love, she used to pack lunch for me every day, gently reminding me to take care of myself. Now, she couldn’t even look at me without disdain. I said nothing back and turned to leave. But Alex wouldn’t let it go, calling after me, “One necklace is enough for Nora!” His words carried a hidden jab. “Don’t you think yours is unnecessary?” I laughed coldly, “Whether it’s unnecessary or not, we still have a legitimate marriage certificate.” “As for you, hanging around Nora without any clarity, what does that make you?” Nora didn’t hesitate, slapping me across the face. “Ryan, what nonsense are you spouting!” Alex added fuel to the fire, “Nora, don’t be mad. It’s all my fault. Don’t let me ruin your peace.” With him around, how could there be any peace between Nora and me? Alex looked defeated, “Nora, maybe I should leave?” I couldn’t help but laugh, mocking, “In broad daylight, what’s the point of acting? It’s the same wherever you act!” Nora stood abruptly, glaring at me, “What’s wrong with you!” “Every time you come back, you cause a ruckus! Do you hold a grudge against me?” I laughed louder, feeling only despair inside. Am I crazy? It’s all because they drove me to it! I said nothing, taking the rejected necklace and leaving. As I laughed, tears streamed down my face. We went from college sweethearts to a married couple, once seen as a perfect match by everyone. When she proposed to me, she promised to be by my side forever, never leaving. But with a new fling, all promises vanished into thin air. Not long after I left, Nora called. Without waiting for me to speak, she scolded me, “You promised two days ago not to trouble Alex anymore. How quickly you forget!” “Just because he’s fit and cheerful, does he deserve your bullying?” I was exhausted, too tired to argue. Nora kept blaming me, “He’s sensitive. Your words almost drove him to despair!” “Tomorrow, go to his gym and apologize publicly, or we’re done!” I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to demand that I, the lawful husband, apologize to her lover in public. I ignored her threats and hung up. Finally, silence. I slumped in the driver’s seat, exhaling deeply. I should’ve been used to it by now, right? Nora’s hurt me more than once or twice.

Last year, during my promotion celebration. I booked her favorite restaurant, hoping she’d share in my joy. I waited all night, but she never showed. My messages went unanswered. Desperate, I searched everywhere, only to see Alex’s TikTok. In the video, Nora wore a sexy sports top, dancing with Alex in the gym to celebrate. He captioned it: “You are the brightest light in my life.” My heart felt torn apart and my vision blurred. Even in our best days, Nora never gave me such a special celebration. Once I composed myself, I called her to question. But Alex answered. He said, “Nora’s in the shower, don’t worry.” But how could I be at ease when my wife was with another man? I rushed to the gym, taking Nora away, regardless of the circumstances. The next day, the moment she woke up, she slapped me. “He said he’d take care of me! Why are you so worried?” I tried reasoning with her, only to end up in a long cold war. I grew more anxious inside. She cared too much about Alex! She hit me for him, silent treatment for him. The anxiety choked me, but I didn’t dare ask. I feared hearing the answer I dreaded most. I watched as they grew closer, inseparable in the end. We argued, but Nora always dismissed it as me overreacting, not being accommodating. I wanted to accommodate her! At a friends’ gathering recently, Nora ignored everyone, focusing on drunk Alex. To take him home, she left with him halfway through. Friends looked at me, hesitant to speak. What could I do? I awkwardly pretended to be calm. Her abrupt departure left me humiliated before friends. That night, I drank myself into oblivion. On a friend’s sofa, I called her over and over, but no answer. The next day, she texted to explain. She said Alex was too drunk and needed her care. She assured me nothing happened between them. I swallowed my grievances, forcing myself to believe her. But today, I clearly saw her betrayal. I could no longer deceive myself. All these years, I’ve been the one tolerating and compromising. Now, I’ve been pushed to the edge of the cliff. This time, I won’t forgive her.

The year I met Nora, she was an ordinary working girl, toiling daily but optimistic and cheerful. I was a well-off executive, living worry-free. Our paths would never have crossed, yet she stubbornly walked into my life. I first saw her at the coffee shop below my office. Her smile was like sunshine, instantly lighting up my heart. I think it was love at first sight. Colleagues advised me, saying it was just a phase; I’d grow tired once the novelty faded. But my feelings grew deeper. Eventually, I refused the family-arranged match, insisting she was the only one I’d marry. My parents were so angry they threatened to cut ties, driving me out of the house. I never regretted it. At our hardest, we lived in a tiny apartment, surviving on instant noodles. Still, it felt sweet, filled with joy. With her by my side, I felt I had the whole world. I wanted to give her a better life, so I worked harder, seizing every opportunity. Returning home exhausted, I’d find her warm smile and hot meals waiting. She’d hug me, saying she’d endure any hardship to be with me. Later, my career picked up, and life improved. But she became increasingly suspicious. Whenever I worked late, she’d repeatedly ask if I was alone with a female colleague. Despite my reassurances, she remained uneasy. Soon, she grew more paranoid and doubtful. To ease her mind, I handed over all my paychecks, put only her name on the house, and promised to come home on time. She was moved to tears, saying I was her most reliable support in life. She promised to spend her future with me. Now, she treats me like an old shoe.

The next day, as soon as I arrived at the company, Nora’s best friend summoned me to her office. Upon entering, Alex walked up to shake my hand. I pulled away without hesitation, giving him a disgusted look. Acting innocent, he asked, “Ryan, do you hate me?” I shot him a disdainful glance, thinking he was clearly out of touch. Isn’t it obvious? Why even ask? Nora couldn’t stand seeing the one she loved being slighted, so she immediately pointed at me and criticized my lack of manners. I was irritated. “Why did you call me here? I’m busy. Let’s get to the point.” Nora was so angry she wanted to hit me, but Alex held her back. He picked up a gym bag from the table. “Ryan, this is my gift for you!” “From now on, I’ll be learning how to manage the company from you, so please guide me.” He bent down and handed me the bag with both hands. But I didn’t take it. “Learning company management from me? Are you serious?” Nora frowned. “Ryan, don’t underestimate people! If you can manage the company, why can’t Alex?” I chuckled. “Isn’t it absurd for a fitness trainer to manage a company?” Nora was so angry she stomped her foot. “That’s none of your concern! Just say whether you’re willing to teach him or not!” I was beyond exasperated and didn’t want to argue with her anymore. “Fine, I’ve got plenty of people under me; one more won’t make a difference.” I looked at her calmly. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be leaving.” “That’s more like it!” “Take the gift from Alex, just accept it!” I frowned at the bag. “Don’t you know I don’t like bags?” Nora’s expression shifted, but she stayed stubborn. “You don’t have to carry it around! It doesn’t take up space!” I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not dumb; I don’t want this junk cluttering up my space!” I didn’t want to argue further and turned to leave. “You’re really pushing it. Are my words meaningless to you now?” Alex pulled her arm, looking pitiful. “Nora, it’s my fault for not considering everything. Don’t pressure Ryan.” His fake act made me feel sick. Nora, feeling heartbroken, hugged Alex, gently stroking his hair to comfort him. She turned and glared at me. “Ryan, didn’t your mom teach you to respect other people’s intentions?” She opened the bag and pulled out a tank top, offering it to me. “I’m your wife. What I say goes!” “And now, I want you to put on this tank top!” She looked at me coldly, waiting for me to give in like before. But I didn’t. I just calmly took out my resignation letter and placed it on her desk. Nora looked at the resignation letter, full of disbelief. “What do you mean by this?” I ignored her question and handed her a pen. “Just sign it!”

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