Everyone knew that Lucas Ryan only married me out of spite because he couldn’t have the one he truly loved. For five years of marriage, he was the perfect husband in public—a renowned cardiologist adored by many.But behind closed doors, he was cold, distant, and had asked for a divorce more times than I could count. Then his first love, Evelyn Snow, returned to the country due to illness. Lucas devoted himself to her care, never leaving her side. He even warned me repeatedly:“Eve’s heart condition is delicate. If you dare show up and stress her out, we’re done for good.” Finally, during his hundredth demand for a divorce, I agreed. What Lucas didn’t know, however, was that I was already carrying his child. On the way to the courthouse to finalize the divorce, I was in a car accident. Both my life and my unborn child’s were lost in an instant. Lucas didn’t get the divorce papers that day, but he did get the news that Evelyn had found a perfect heart donor match. Excited, he rushed back to the hospital and performed the surgery himself, taking the heart from my lifeless body and placing it into hers. It wasn’t until later that he remembered our divorce—but by then, my phone would never ring again.

The pain finally disappeared the moment my soul left my body. I hovered above the scene, staring at the mangled car smoking in the rain. The driver’s seat was crushed beyond recognition, and the body slumped inside was twisted and broken in every way imaginable. Today was supposed to mark our fifth wedding anniversary. Ironically, it was also the day Lucas asked for a divorce for the hundredth time. Over the years, I had tried to ignore the cracks in our fragile relationship, hoping that somehow, we’d make it work. But this time, I finally agreed to let go. Five years is a long time, even if most of it was marked by distance and tension. Regardless of how things were, we’d spent a significant part of our lives together. But everything changed a month ago when Evelyn returned from abroad, her health deteriorating. From that moment on, Lucas never came home. He stayed at the hospital, tirelessly caring for her. Everyone knew he had married me out of anger and heartbreak after Evelyn rejected him. But I had loved him for years, long before he even knew my name. So, even when I found out the truth, I stayed. Loving him was as natural as breathing, no matter how much it hurt. My thoughts returned to the present as I watched the ambulance from St. Mercy’s Hospital load my broken body into the back. I followed instinctively. Lucas worked at St. Mercy’s, where he was a legendary cardiologist. Patients and staff worshipped him. Yet, as his wife, I couldn’t even go to him for a cold. On our wedding day, he had made it clear:“I don’t want to see you at my workplace.”“And don’t bother me over trivial things.” That’s why I never told him I was pregnant. As I floated above the ambulance, my hand drifted to my stomach. The life I had carried, the one I had dreamed of for years, was gone now—just like me. Tears streamed down my face, silent and endless, as an ache settled deep in my chest. That child was supposed to be my miracle, my hope after five long years. My body wasn’t taken to the morgue. Instead, it was wheeled into the operating room on the fifth floor. The door to the operating room opened, and two figures stepped inside. “Dr. Ryan, this isn’t legal without the family’s consent…” The voice belonged to Mason, Lucas’s protégé. I knew him well; over the years, he had eaten countless meals I’d brought for Lucas. Evelyn scoffed and crossed her arms as she walked toward my lifeless body. She glanced at me before quickly turning her head, unable to hide the disgust in her eyes. “I’ve waited far too long for a compatible heart. I’m not about to let this opportunity slip away,” she said coldly. Then, without hesitation, she turned to Mason. “Call Lucas. Tell him to come back and perform the surgery himself.” Mason hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. He opened his mouth as if to protest but said nothing. Evelyn pulled out a card from her purse and handed it to him. “There’s fifty grand on this card. This stays between us. No one has to know.” Mason stared at the card, torn between guilt and greed. Finally, after a long pause, he took it and dialed Lucas. The phone rang a few times before Lucas’s voice filled the room. “What is it?” he asked, sounding impatient. Mason glanced at Evelyn before answering softly. “Dr. Ryan, we found a suitable donor for Evelyn. The body is in the operating room. You should come back.” The indifference in Lucas’s voice evaporated, replaced by palpable excitement. “Are you serious?! I’ll be there right away!” “Eve won’t have to worry about this anymore…” His voice was jubilant, overflowing with relief and joy. Each word felt like a dagger to my chest. My tears blurred everything as I looked at the operating table where my body lay. If Lucas knew it was my heart he was about to take, would he still sound so happy?

It didn’t even take thirty minutes for Lucas Ryan to return to the hospital. Out of breath, he rushed down the hallway and pulled Evelyn Snow into his arms. His voice was filled with relief and joy as he said,“Evelyn, you’re finally going to be okay.” Hearing this, Evelyn’s eyes welled up with tears, and she leaned into his chest, her voice trembling as she whispered,“Lucas, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even want this heart… I’d rather give up.” Lucas tightened his embrace, gently placing a kiss on her forehead. His voice was full of unwavering promise:“Don’t worry. I’ll divorce Claire soon.”“I only married her because I was angry with you.” Even though this was something everyone seemed to know, hearing it from Lucas’s own lips still sent a sharp pain through my heart. So, this was how deeply he loved Evelyn Snow. So, even after five years, I hadn’t been able to melt the ice around his heart. The ache in my chest deepened as Lucas comforted Evelyn, telling her to prepare for surgery. He then walked into the operating room with Mason to scrub in. Performing a heart transplant was nothing more than routine for Lucas. It was the kind of procedure he could do with his eyes closed. But when he saw the bloodied body lying on the operating table, he couldn’t help but frown. “Mason, why wasn’t this cleaned up before it was brought in?” he asked, his tone sharp. Mason hesitated, his nervous gaze avoiding Lucas’s. He stammered,“Dr. Ryan, Evelyn’s match is so rare… And, well… keeping the heart fresh was the priority.” Lucas didn’t respond right away. Instead, he took the scalpel from Mason’s hand and prepared to begin. But just as he was about to make the first incision, he paused. I followed his gaze and realized he was staring at my left hand. There, on my ring finger, was the diamond wedding ring I had designed myself. The blood that covered it only made it more striking. I had even made Lucas a matching band for our wedding, but he had hated it. On the day of our marriage, he locked it away in a drawer and never wore it again. “What’s wrong, Dr. Ryan?” Mason asked, confused by his hesitation. Lucas shook his head but spoke with a faint trace of regret in his voice.“She was unlucky. Her husband must be devastated.” As he said this, he made the incision, opening up my chest. Mason stood beside him, passing him tools as needed. At one point, he added,“And… after running the tests, we found out she was two months pregnant.” “Really tragic when you think about it.” This time, Lucas didn’t reply. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier, like an invisible weight pressing down on everyone. I watched him from a distance, memories flooding back. Last winter, I fell terribly ill. My fever was so high that I couldn’t even get out of bed. Lucas was home that night, but he barely noticed. He was too busy working on a paper for some medical journal. I spent the entire night shivering and burning up, too weak to call for help. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the doctors said I had narrowly escaped death. When I finally woke up, the first thing Lucas did was scold me. “You’re an adult. If you’re feeling this bad, why didn’t you say something?!” His eyes were cold, filled with anger. “Or was this your way of getting my attention?” I didn’t have the strength to argue with him. I wanted to remind him that he had always told me not to bother him, even if I was sick. I had been nothing but obedient, so why was he still angry? Now, standing in this operating room, I couldn’t help but wonder: How could Lucas show compassion for a stranger but be so heartless toward me, the woman who had been by his side for five years?

The heart was successfully transplanted. Six hours later, it beat again—this time inside Evelyn Snow’s body. The moment Lucas Ryan stepped out of the operating room, he went straight to Evelyn’s recovery ward. He stood by her bedside, watching her sleep peacefully. Only then did he let out a long sigh of relief. Once he was sure Evelyn was stable, Lucas returned to his office. He sank into his chair and pulled out his phone, only to find the screen blank—no messages, no missed calls. It was strange. I used to text him endlessly every single day, sharing every mundane detail of my life—what I ate, what I was working on, how my day went. But Lucas never responded. Not once. He stared at his phone for a few moments, then opened his contacts. His thumb hovered over my name before he hesitated, but eventually, he made the call. The line rang and rang, the mechanical tone echoing in the silence, until it automatically disconnected. On the other end, there was no one to pick up. Frustrated, Lucas put the phone down, opened our old chat thread, and recorded two voice messages, his irritation unmistakable: “Claire, you already agreed to the divorce. Whether you answer your phone or not won’t change my decision.”“And don’t think playing hard to get will make me reconsider.” I watched him angrily send the messages, a faint smile tugging at my lips. It was bitter and hollow. “Lucas Ryan,” I murmured softly, “if you hated me this much, why did you marry me in the first place?” But it didn’t matter anymore. The wife he despised had died in today’s storm. He wouldn’t have to deal with me ever again. For the first time, Lucas’s messages disappeared into the void, unanswered. I faded from his world, quietly and without a trace. And yet, he didn’t look for me. He assumed I was being difficult, hiding away because I didn’t want the divorce. He was so certain of it that he didn’t bother to question my absence. Meanwhile, my body lay unclaimed in the hospital morgue. It wasn’t surprising. After all, I was an orphan. Growing up in a group home, I had no family to call my own. My only real accomplishment in life was earning a spot at one of the country’s top design schools. And, of course, marrying Lucas Ryan. Back in college, Lucas wasn’t just the star of the medical school—he was the star. Top of his class, impossibly handsome, and untouchable, he was the dream of every girl on campus. Even at my school across town, everyone had heard about the perfect love story between Lucas Ryan and Evelyn Snow. The first time I saw him was at a joint event between our universities. He stood tall in the crowd, dressed in a custom-tailored suit that screamed wealth and elegance. He spoke with effortless charm, surrounded by people who seemed magnetically drawn to him. His presence was so dazzling, it was almost blinding. That night, I was cornered by a drunken guy who wouldn’t leave me alone. Lucas was the one who stepped in, pulling me out of the situation. My quiet, reserved heart raced for the first time. But I knew better. Lucas Ryan was a world apart from me. He was untouchable, and besides, he already had Evelyn. So I buried my feelings deep inside, content to admire him from a distance. It was a foolish dream, I thought. People like me—those who clawed their way out of the dirt—had no business reaching for stars like him. I thought that would be the first and last time our paths crossed. But fate had other plans. Lucas and Evelyn eventually broke up. I wasn’t sure why, and it wasn’t my place to ask. One sunny afternoon, I happened to be delivering custom cufflinks to one of Lucas’s friends. Lucas was there, standing by the window, bathed in golden light. He looked up at me, his gaze calm and detached, and asked a question that would change everything: “Do you want to marry me?”

“Claire still isn’t answering her phone?” In the hospital room, Evelyn Snow’s pale face grew even more ashen. Her eyes reddened, and tears spilled over as she looked at Lucas Ryan, her voice trembling. “Lucas, in the five years you were married to her… did you really never feel anything for her? Not even once?” Her voice cracked as she continued, her emotions unraveling. “Is she really missing, or are you lying to me? Was this all a trick because… you never actually wanted to marry me? Because you never forgave me for leaving you back then?” By the time she finished, Evelyn burst into heart-wrenching sobs. I stood by the window, quietly leaning against the frame, watching them. My emotions had oddly settled over the past few days. I wasn’t even angry anymore. I had expected this. I guessed Lucas would pull her into his arms, soothing her like he always did. And sure enough, a second later, he frowned, stood, and wrapped the trembling Evelyn in a comforting embrace. See? I guessed right. “Claire agreed to the divorce,” he said calmly, patting Evelyn’s back as if to reassure her. “I don’t know why she suddenly disappeared, but don’t worry. I’ll go through with the divorce.” “And then I’ll marry you.” Just as those words left his mouth, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway. Before Lucas could react, two uniformed police officers walked into the room. Lucas froze, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Officers, is there a problem?” Before the police could respond, the door burst open again. Mason stumbled in, panting heavily, his face pale as he stammered, “Dr. Ryan… C-Claire… Claire is dead.”

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In the third year of my marriage to Ethan Williams,his “first love” reappeared in his life, this time as a struggling sales clerk. Ethan, overcome with sympathy for her fall from grace, bought the entire store as a “reunion gift.” His grand gesture caused a sensation through our social circles. Meanwhile, I, his wife, became the joke of the town—Mrs. Williams, the pitiful fool. But I said nothing. Instead, I sent the newly opened store a polite bouquet of flowers. Then, clad in black, I went to his brother’s grave and cried my heart out. “Ethan,” I whispered, my tears soaking the cold marble, “I’ve finally found a way to break free from your brother. He may have your eyes, but he’s nothing like you.” My words hung in the air, heavy with grief, until I heard a familiar voice behind me: “What the hell did you just say?” The day after Ethan’s lavish display of affection, the group chat was buzzing with gossip. [Ethan really went all out for her. Buying an entire store? Must be true love!][It has to be her—the infamous first love. When’s he going to introduce her to us? We’d love to see what the real deal looks like.] Their comments were mocking, dismissive. None of them cared that I, Mrs. Williams, was still in the group. My hands trembled as I read their messages. For once, I didn’t swallow my anger. Instead, I quietly exited the group chat. Ethan’s call came not long after. I was pinning a white flower to my lapel when my phone buzzed. I put him on speaker, freeing my hands. “Zoe,” he said, his tone sharp, “what the hell were you thinking, sending flowers to Claire?” “I’m your wife,” I replied calmly. “Sending flowers to a friend is just basic courtesy.” He let out a short, scornful laugh. “Don’t think I don’t see through you. You just wanted to flaunt your status as ‘Mrs. Williams’ and humiliate Claire.” “Let me remind you,” he continued coldly, “any status you have, I gave it to you. Don’t forget your place. Go pick up your pathetic flowers and apologize to Claire. Now.” His voice was so loud it startled me, making my hand slip. The pin pricked my finger, and I let out a small gasp of pain. On the other end of the line, Ethan sneered. “Zoe, don’t play these cheap little tricks with me. They don’t work. If you don’t show up today, don’t bother waiting for me to come home. Ever.” “Oh, and one more thing—quitting the group chat? That’s disrespectful to my friends. I’ll deal with you for that later. You chose to marry me. You knew what that meant. This is what you signed up for.” The line went dead. I looked down at the crimson stain blooming on my blouse. The sharp sting in my chest was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. Ethan always knew exactly how to hurt me. He wasn’t like my Ethan. The Ethan I once knew would never have spoken to me this way. I lowered my eyes, pinned the flower in place, and thought back to the choice Ethan had mentioned—the choice that had led me to this life.

I first met Ethan Williams in college. Everyone on campus knew I liked him. I wasn’t subtle about it. Among the many girls who admired him, I was the most shamelessly devoted. One day, he finally asked me, “Why are you so nice to me?” I looked up into his deep, shining eyes and answered with all the sincerity I could muster: “Because I like you, Ethan Williams. I like you so much it hurts.” That night, for the first time, he invited me to a club dinner. I was over the moon, thinking he was finally starting to notice me. But during the party, I caught him watching Claire Moore. When he saw her laughing with another guy, his expression darkened. When it came time for a game of truth or dare, Ethan tossed aside the “truth” card and picked a dare instead. His challenge? To kiss someone of the opposite sex for one full minute. Without hesitation, he turned to me, grabbed my face, and kissed me. My eyes widened in shock. His lips tasted faintly of mint, his scent intoxicating. But just as I was about to close my eyes and savor the moment, I noticed his gaze had shifted. He was looking at Claire. I didn’t need to guess why. She must have reacted just how he wanted, because when he pulled away, there was a triumphant smirk on his face. That night, Ethan declared that we were officially a couple. Looking back, it felt less like love and more like a consolation prize. He asked me to move into his off-campus apartment, and of course, I agreed. I thought if we spent more time together, he’d eventually fall for me. To the outside world, we were a picture-perfect couple, “madly in love.” But the truth was, I slept in the guest room, while Ethan treated me more like a live-in maid than a girlfriend. I cooked, cleaned, and kept his home spotless. Over time, he even gained a little weight, thanks to my cooking. People joked that I was Ethan Williams’s personal housekeeper. I didn’t care. As long as he let me stay by his side, I was happy. It reminded me of how my Ethan used to take care of me. For two years, we stayed like that. He never broke up with me, but he never fully committed either. Then, the day Claire left for graduate studies abroad, I saw them kissing outside our building. Their embrace was so intimate, so tender, it felt like a knife to my chest. I panicked. What if he left me for good? What if I never saw those eyes again? That night, Claire boarded her flight, and Ethan came home drunk. He stumbled into my room, reeking of alcohol. What followed was a night of pain and tears. I cried through it all, but I couldn’t stop myself from memorizing every detail of his face, every flicker of emotion in his eyes. The next morning, Ethan leaned over me, his voice cold and detached. “Zoe, let’s get married.” He pulled out a ring and handed it to me. The diamond gleamed faintly in the dim light, like a spark in the darkness of my hollow heart. “This… this was Claire’s, wasn’t it?” I asked, my voice hoarse. His eyes darkened, a flicker of anger crossing his face. “Take it or leave it,” he said flatly, pulling the ring away. Desperate, I snatched it back and slid it onto my finger. It was too big, the band loose around my knuckle. It looked absurd, like a child playing dress-up with an adult’s jewelry. Ethan laughed, but there was no warmth in it. His gaze was filled with mockery. I turned away, unable to bear the sight of him. And that’s how I became Mrs. Williams—a role the world saw as enviable, but one I knew was hollow. To everyone else, I was the picture of a devoted wife—gracious, patient, long-suffering. I never questioned Ethan’s affairs or his late nights. My only condition was that he come home every evening, no matter how late. When he stumbled in, reeking of perfume, I would get out of bed to make him tea or heat up a glass of milk. More than once, he sneered at me in his drunken haze, calling me pathetic, spineless, and boring. I would only smile in response. I knew what I was. I hated myself too. But I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t give up those eyes.

It was a sunny day when I left home, driving toward Claire’s boutique. Outside her store, two perfect rows of extravagant flower stands lined the entrance, each adorned with bright, colorful ribbons glinting under the sunlight. They were Ethan Williams’ grand display for her—a gesture impossible to miss. Ethan stood beside Claire, holding a little girl in his arms. The way they laughed together, so carefree, they could easily be mistaken for a family. I walked closer. Claire caught sight of me, and for a brief moment, a flicker of unease crossed her face. Then, she gently took the girl from Ethan’s arms and spoke softly: “Sweetheart, don’t cling to Ethan like that. Come to Mommy now.” She glanced at me, her voice warm and deliberate. “This is Mrs. Williams. Say hello to her.” “Mrs. Williams!” The little girl’s voice was bright and sweet, like a crisp apple freshly bitten into. I smiled and nodded, but before I could respond, Claire added casually, as if by accident, “You’ve been married for years now. Still no plans to have kids?” Her words landed like a blade, sharp and cutting. My face paled at the memory of what I’d lost, while Ethan’s expression darkened, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes. It happened early in our marriage. I had just found out I was pregnant. But when I told Ethan, he didn’t look excited or happy. Instead, he frowned, his voice cold and detached as he said: “A child will only complicate things between us. Our relationship is already unstable. I think it’s better if we don’t have this baby.” He said this barely an hour after Claire had posted an emotional breakup message on social media. His precious first love was single again, and Ethan wanted to leave himself a way back to her. In his eyes, our child was an obstacle. Something to be discarded without hesitation. The doctor warned me that terminating the pregnancy could leave lasting damage. My body was too weak, they said. If I went through with it, I might never be able to conceive again. But Ethan didn’t care. “You’re still young,” he said dismissively. “You look perfectly healthy to me. If something goes wrong, I’ll pay for the best doctors to fix it.” He made the decision as casually as if he were choosing a restaurant for dinner. But bad food can be replaced. A wrecked body cannot. That day, lying on the hospital bed beneath the blinding fluorescent lights, I felt my first pang of regret for marrying Ethan Williams. Tears streamed down my face as I stared blankly at the ceiling, the weight of his words crushing me. Later, Ethan came into the room holding a massive bouquet of lilies, their cloying sweetness filling the air. He wiped my tears away and spoke gently, his tone almost tender: “Zoe, don’t be sad. We can always have another child.” A slap in the face, followed by a sugar-coated lie. It was his favorite tactic. Through blurry eyes, I stared at him. For a fleeting moment, his face resembled someone else’s—someone who would have known I hated lilies and loved baby’s breath instead. But I swallowed the words I wanted to say. I didn’t ask for a divorce. Claire eventually got married, and the Williams family began pressuring Ethan to have a child. Suddenly, he wanted one too. But the doctor’s warning turned out to be true. I never got pregnant again. Ethan, ever the master of appearances, brushed it off when people asked. “Zoe’s health isn’t great,” he’d say with a sympathetic smile. “We’re just not planning for kids right now.” It was a convenient excuse, one that painted him as a caring husband while subtly shifting the blame onto me. What he never mentioned, of course, was the real reason—the child he’d forced me to lose, all for the sake of leaving the door open for Claire. A truth that would tarnish the perfect image of Ethan Williams, the golden boy of the Williams family. But to me, he was nothing more than a coward. Selfish, spineless, and cruel. Claire, however, wasn’t about to let the matter drop. “I didn’t realize Zoe’s health was so bad,” she said, covering her mouth in mock concern. “I guess I shouldn’t complain. I thought my body was weak too, but I had no trouble carrying my daughter. From pregnancy to delivery, everything went so smoothly.” Her words dripped with false sympathy, but the implication was clear: There must be something wrong with you. I didn’t take the bait. I hadn’t come here to trade petty insults with her. Instead, I turned and walked toward the flower stand I had sent, intending to take it back. But as I reached for it, a sharp, searing pain shot through my stomach. It felt like a thousand knives twisting inside me. My body trembled as I clutched my abdomen, struggling to stay upright. Before I could react, Ethan was at my side, grabbing my empty hand.

“Zoe, you still owe Claire an apology.” Ethan Williams’ voice buzzed in my ears like an annoying fly. I couldn’t even turn around from the pain coursing through my body. “Zoe,” he continued, his tone laced with irritation. “How many times do I have to tell you? These tricks don’t work on me. Stop playing games to avoid responsibility.” His words were meaningless noise to me. The pain in my stomach twisted deeper, spreading like fire through my chest and into my very bones. My legs gave out, and I slowly sank to the ground. Only then did Ethan seem to notice that something was wrong. For a brief moment, I caught a flicker of panic in his expression. “Zoe, are you serious right now?” he asked, hesitating as though unsure if I was faking. He finally moved to step toward me, but before he could reach me, a sudden, sharp cry came from behind him. “Ah! Mommy, are you okay?” I turned my head slightly to see Claire sitting on the ground, clutching her ankle, her face twisted in pain as tears welled up in her eyes. Ethan immediately dropped my hand and spun around to rush to her side. I stayed where I was, hunched over, beads of sweat dripping from my forehead onto the ground, leaving dark marks on the pavement. Slowly, the sharp pain in my stomach began to subside. When I finally managed to stand, the space around me was empty. My husband—my husband—was kneeling beside another woman, his hands gently touching her pale, uninjured ankle, his face filled with concern. My throat burned, and my eyes stung with unshed tears. Five years of loyalty and love, wasted on a man who cared for me less than a dog. At least a dog would wag its tail when it received affection. Ethan? He didn’t even have the heart of a beast. Without a word, I strode toward the flower stand bearing both our names. The gaudy display stood tall, a symbol of everything I had endured. With a single, violent push, I sent it crashing to the ground. The sound of flowers scattering and the collective gasps of onlookers filled the air. I didn’t care. I walked to my car, my steps unsteady, and drove away without looking back. I ended up at the cemetery. A streak of vibrant sunlight filtered through the trees, landing directly on a small gravestone. The black-and-white photo on it gleamed in the light, the boy in the picture smiling warmly. He looked so much like Ethan—the same face, the same eyes—but there was a softness to his expression that Ethan never had. The sunlight made his smile seem alive, as though he were standing right in front of me. I crouched down and gently placed a bouquet of white baby’s breath on his grave. Then, as the tears I had been holding back all day finally spilled over, I whispered: “Jared… every year, I bring you stars. But no matter how many times I do, they’ll never shine as brightly as the ones in your eyes.” I paused, my voice breaking. “Jared, I’ve finally come to see you.” From my bag, I pulled out a folded piece of paper—a medical report. I placed it in front of his photo and continued, my voice trembling: “This isn’t me giving up, okay? But the doctors said… that even if I go through treatment, I won’t make it past a year.” I laughed bitterly, wiping at my eyes. “So, I figured when the time comes, when I can’t hold on anymore, I’ll come find you. We’ll be together again.” I tried to smile, but my lips quivered. “In a way, I’m grateful for this illness. It means I can finally leave this world—a world without you. I don’t have to keep pretending Ethan is you anymore. He might have your eyes, but he’s nothing like you. Not even close.” My hand shook as I reached out to touch Jared’s photo. If he were here, he’d probably scold me for not taking better care of myself. But now, all he could do was smile at me from inside the photo, frozen in time. He couldn’t stop me now. He couldn’t stop me from running toward the destiny I’d always believed was ours. But just as I closed my eyes, ready to let the quiet surround me, a voice shattered the stillness. “Who the hell did you just say I look like?” My eyes snapped open, my heart pounding in my chest. VIP part

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When my younger brother announced his wedding, I requested two days off from work. My boss flatly denied my request. She sneered, “Why does your brother’s wedding matter to you? You’re not even dating anyone. Aren’t you embarrassed to attend?” Without another word, I logged into the system and submitted my leave request anyway. Her calls came flooding in soon after. “Who gave you permission to take time off?” “If you’re gone, who’s going to drive me to and from work tomorrow?” 0It was the end of the year—always a chaotic time at our branch, with everyone scrambling to meet their quotas. I had already hit mine early, so I figured asking for two days off for my brother’s wedding wouldn’t be a big deal. I approached my team leader, Julie Zhang, and politely made my request. I thought it’d be a simple matter, but she refused me without hesitation. “Why does your brother’s wedding matter to you? You’re not even married! Shouldn’t you be embarrassed to show up?” Julie has always been known for her sharp tongue and condescending attitude. Everyone on the team has dealt with it at some point. And sure, it was a busy time of year, with strict rules around taking time off. But her outright rejection felt personal. I took a deep breath, keeping my tone calm. “Julie, I’m his sister. I need to be there for him. I hope you can understand.” She glanced up from her phone, her expression darkening. “Do you even realize what quarter we’re in? This is the end of the year—the most critical time for our branch’s performance reviews! If everyone took time off like you, our entire team would be eating dirt next year. Can you handle that responsibility?” Sure, I could understand that taking leave during the busiest season wasn’t ideal. But wasn’t she being a little dramatic? What made it worse was that just the day before, she had approved our male colleague’s leave request without a second thought. “Why is it different for me?” I couldn’t help but ask. Julie scoffed, crossing her arms. “Are you seriously comparing yourself to him? He’s taking marriage leave. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime event! If you want time off, wait until you get married.” Her words were ridiculous. My brother’s wedding wasn’t some excuse—it was a legitimate reason to take leave. No matter how I tried to reason with her, she wouldn’t budge. And to make things worse, she piled extra work onto me over the next few days, assigning me customer follow-ups that were supposed to be her responsibility. I knew she was being petty, but I didn’t bother arguing. Instead, I followed the proper channels. I informed both her and our department manager of my plans, then submitted my leave request through the system. In the meantime, I kept up with all my tasks, ensuring there was no room for complaints about my performance. By Wednesday evening, our manager had approved my request, and it was on its way to HR for final processing. After finishing my daily report and posting it in the team chat, I packed up and left for the highway. Before crossing the toll gate, I checked the group chat one last time to confirm no one was looking for me. Then, I switched my phone to airplane mode. The drive required my full attention, and I focused on the GPS as I made my way home. By the time I exited the freeway, it was nearly midnight. When I turned my phone back on, I was greeted by over twenty missed calls and dozens of unread messages. Julie had sent me countless voice notes, each around sixty seconds long. I didn’t even bother opening the first one. Whatever she had to say, I knew it wouldn’t be good. Instead, I tucked my phone into my bag, stopped by a local diner, and treated myself to a warm bowl of noodle soup. When I finally got home, my phone buzzed with yet another incoming call. “Emma, what were you doing? Why didn’t you wait for me after work?” Julie’s voice was sharp and accusatory. I replied matter-of-factly, “Julie, I told you earlier this week—I’m attending a wedding this weekend.” That sent her into a full-blown tirade. “Who gave you permission to take leave?” “If you’re gone, who’s going to drive me to work tomorrow?” “Do you even want to get promoted? Where do you get the audacity to ignore your superior’s instructions?!” 0

Her barrage of yelling left me momentarily stunned. That’s when I remembered—Julie had been hitching rides in my car to and from work for almost six months now. We lived in the same neighborhood, and about a week after I started at the company, I realized my direct supervisor lived just across the hall. Out of politeness, I offered her a ride one morning. I didn’t think much of it at the time—but from that day on, she latched onto me like I was her personal driver. I’ve never been one to make a fuss, so I let it slide. After all, she was my boss, and it wasn’t exactly out of my way. But now, hearing her demand that I cancel my leave and prioritize her commute? It was like she genuinely believed I existed just to chauffeur her around. My dad, who had been sitting nearby, noticed my darkening expression and opened his mouth to speak. I quickly shot him a look, silently telling him to hold back. Instead, I grabbed my phone, took a screenshot of my approved leave request, and sent it to Julie with a calm message: “Julie, I’m not skipping work. My leave was approved by Mr. Reed. You can check the system if you don’t believe me.” Her reply came almost immediately, and it was just as aggressive as before. “Don’t try to pull rank on me with Mr. Reed. I’m your direct supervisor, and you report to me! I’ll say it one more time—get your ass back here now. This is your only chance.” “And tomorrow morning, at 8:30 sharp, I better see your car waiting for me. Do you understand?” Her entitlement was so absurd, I actually laughed. What a power trip. I took a moment to breathe deeply, trying to remind myself to stay calm. After all, I’d worked hard for over a year, and permanent employment was just within reach. A little patience now wouldn’t kill me. I forced myself to respond politely. “Julie, I’m sorry, but my car’s being used as the wedding car this weekend. I really can’t bring it back.” “You might need to grab a cab for the next two days. I apologize for the inconvenience.” Our neighborhood is well-connected, and it’s easy to hail a ride. Plus, the company provides a monthly transportation stipend for city commutes. It wasn’t like I was asking for the moon and stars. But my calm tone only seemed to fuel her rage. “What do you mean, I should take a cab?!” she snapped. “Emma, don’t let your little achievements go to your head. Do you even know your place?” “Let me make this clear—if I don’t approve your leave, you don’t get to take it. I don’t care if someone in your family died! You don’t just waltz out of here whenever you feel like it!” “And if you’re not back tomorrow, don’t bother showing up again. Just pack up your things and leave.” Her voice practically exploded through the phone, every word sharp and cutting. Does she think I’m some pushover? Even the most patient person has their limits, and mine had just been crossed. I was about to shoot back a response when, suddenly, she hung up. And then she blocked me. Blocked. Me. I stared at my phone in disbelief, anger simmering in my chest. My dad, who had been trying to remain calm, finally lost it. His thick eyebrows knitted together as he fumed. “Didn’t your mom say your boss was supposed to be a decent person? Listen to the way she talks! How could anyone treat their employee like this?” “And to think I let Old Xu help with their sales targets. She repays us by cursing at my daughter?” I gave him a wry smile and shrugged. “Guess you never really know someone. She seemed nice enough at first.” It was true. When I first started, Julie had been charming and approachable. But somewhere along the way, her true colors had come out. The more leniency I gave her, the more she pushed, taking advantage of my kindness. My dad grumbled under his breath and then asked, “Do you want me to help you find another job? You don’t have to put up with this.” I quickly shook my head. This was my mess to deal with. I’d let her walk all over me, and now I was paying the price. It was time to grow up. I couldn’t rely on my dad to fix all my problems forever. If I wanted to make it in this world, I’d have to learn how to stand my ground. 0

Over the next few days, Julie didn’t bother me again. It felt like the calm before the storm, and although I was uneasy, I managed to attend my brother’s wedding without further interruptions. On Monday morning, I returned to the office carrying a few bags of local treats for my colleagues. But something felt off. People who were usually warm and friendly with me now greeted me with strained smiles and avoided eye contact. One of my former classmates, now a colleague, pulled me aside into the stairwell. Once she made sure no one else was around, she leaned in and whispered, “Emma, I heard HR is planning to let you go after your probation ends. What’s going on?” Her concern was genuine, but her words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What? Why? I’ve been performing well—my metrics are some of the best on the team,” I said, bewildered. She sighed. “I don’t know the details, but word is spreading. You might want to brace yourself for the meeting.” I thanked her and returned to my desk, pretending like nothing had happened. It didn’t take long for my suspicions to be confirmed. As soon as our morning team meeting wrapped up, Julie called me out in front of everyone. “Emma,” she began, her tone sharp and authoritative, “you took two days off without my approval, which is a blatant violation of company policy.” I stood my ground, trying to keep my voice steady. “Julie, my leave was approved through the proper channels. It’s all documented in the system.” Her face darkened. “I don’t care what the system says. If I didn’t approve it, it doesn’t count! I’M your supervisor. My word is final.” “And since you’ve shown no remorse for your actions, there’s no need to discuss your permanent position anymore. Pack your things and leave.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Julie, if the system bypassed your approval, that’s an issue HR and IT need to address. It’s not something within my control.” The tension in the room was palpable. My coworkers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to react. One of the younger women tugged at my sleeve, silently pleading with me to back down. But I was done staying quiet. If Julie wasn’t going to show me respect, I had no reason to give her any either. Her anger boiled over as she slammed her hand on the table. “Don’t try to argue with me. If you have a problem, take it up with HR!” Before leaving, she turned to the rest of the team and delivered a pointed warning: “Let this be a lesson to all of you. Follow the rules, and don’t defy your superiors. Work hard now, and you’ll all get your promotions and raises next year.” Her words were empty promises—just more lies to keep people in line. She’d used the same tactic on me when I first joined the team, promising recognition that never came. Not long after, I got a message from HR’s representative, Lisa Wu, asking me to meet her in the conference room. When I walked in, Lisa started with some polite small talk before cutting to the chase. “Emma, I’ll be honest. You’ve done a decent job these past six months, but you’ve made some serious mistakes.” “Work isn’t just about hitting your targets. Building good relationships with your superiors is critical—especially with your direct manager.” “By taking leave without Julie’s approval, you’ve shown a lack of respect for her authority. And then, to make matters worse, you took her car for a personal event, forcing her to take public transportation.” For a moment, I was too stunned to respond. “Julie’s car?” I repeated, incredulous. She nodded, her tone turning accusatory. “Yes, Julie told us you’ve been borrowing her car for months. And then you even used it as a wedding car. That’s highly inappropriate, Emma.” It all clicked. Julie was spreading lies, claiming my new BMW was hers. No wonder she always made a show of calling me to fetch the car in front of our colleagues. She’d been laying the groundwork for this narrative all along. 0

I clenched my fists, feeling a surge of anger. Enough was enough. Without another word, I stood up, grabbed Lisa by the arm, and marched straight to Julie’s desk. Julie glanced up lazily, her expression indifferent. “I already told you—if you have a problem, take it up with HR. I’m busy.” I smiled coldly. “Oh, this involves you, Julie. We’re going to clear the air right now.” Her composure faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered. “Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “Say what you need to say.” I turned to face our team, my voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Julie, I thought we were neighbors. I didn’t mind giving you rides because it was convenient, and you were my boss. I was trying to be polite.” “But for the past six months, you’ve treated me like your personal chauffeur, calling me at all hours and ordering me around. I let it slide because I didn’t want to make waves.” “But now you’re telling people my car is yours? How does that make any sense?” The room fell silent. My teammates stared, wide-eyed, while Julie’s face turned an alarming shade of red. Before she could respond, Lisa spoke up, trying to regain control of the situation. “Emma, that’s a serious accusation. You’re still just an intern. Do you really expect us to believe you can afford a car like that?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Why not? Does buying a car require permission from my title or age?” Julie coughed awkwardly, cutting Lisa off. She patted Lisa’s shoulder, feigning concern. “It’s fine, Lisa. Let’s not be too hard on her. The car is hers. I just didn’t correct people’s assumptions because I didn’t want Emma to face unnecessary scrutiny.” Her words were laced with fake pity, but I saw the smug glint in her eyes. She thought she’d outmaneuvered me. “After all,” she continued, “a young woman driving a luxury car… people might get the wrong idea. I didn’t want anyone accusing her of, say, being a—well, you know.” Her insinuation was clear, and it worked like a charm. Lisa’s expression shifted into one of disapproval. “I knew it,” Lisa muttered. “Emma’s family didn’t seem wealthy. I saw her dad in sandals at the branch once—doesn’t exactly scream ‘BMW owner.’” Julie smirked, satisfied as the gossip shifted away from her and onto me. 0

It felt like my stomach was on fire, but I took a deep breath and forced myself to stay calm. This was outright slander. Julie and Lisa were throwing baseless accusations at me, smearing my reputation with their lies. Anyone with less resolve might’ve broken down by now, sobbing as they packed up their desk and walked out the door. And seriously, who says you have to wear designer clothes to be wealthy? My dad—who spends his days in flip-flops and a tank top—is a low-key real estate mogul. If he ever found out someone had dismissed him as a nobody, he’d probably be so mad he’d cough up blood. But I wasn’t going to let them get away with this. Turning to Lisa, I let out a cold laugh. “What’s wrong, Lisa? Did Julie’s words replace whatever critical thinking skills you had? Whatever she says, you just blindly agree?” Everyone in the office knew Julie had a distant relative in corporate, which meant most people gave her a wide berth or went out of their way to stay on her good side. But Lisa was HR—her blatant bias was downright embarrassing. “You’re supposed to be HR,” I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Aren’t you supposed to think independently? Or are you just here to parrot Julie’s every word?” “And let’s be real for a second—whether I stay or leave isn’t up to either of you. That decision rests with Mr. Reed, not you two.” Lisa’s face turned beet red, and she stammered as she tried to come up with a response. Julie, meanwhile, looked like she was seconds away from exploding. Her eyes burned with anger, and her brow was so tightly furrowed I thought it might stay that way forever. “Emma,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom, “after everything I’ve done to mentor you, this is how you repay me?” “I’m your direct supervisor. If I say you’re out, you’re out!” I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. Mentor me? What a joke. I’d spent half a year as her unpaid chauffeur, bending over backward to accommodate her ridiculous demands. And now, instead of gratitude, she was paying me back with lies and insults. Before I could respond, the sound of a door opening cut through the tension. Mr. Reed, our department director, stepped out of his office. His expression was stern as he scanned the room. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice sharp. “This is an office, not a playground. If you’re not working, then what are you doing?” He turned his focus to Julie. “Come to my office. Now.” Julie shot me a venomous glare before following him inside, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. God only knows what kind of story she was about to spin in there. As I watched her disappear into the office, one of my coworkers—a former classmate—passed by with a water bottle in hand. She gave me a quick thumbs-up, clearly amused by the scene. I scratched my head awkwardly, letting out a dry laugh. Sure, maybe my approach wasn’t the most professional, but at some point, you’ve got to stand up for yourself. Still, I knew that things couldn’t go back to normal. Staying on Julie’s team after this would be a nightmare. As I mulled over my options, my phone buzzed. The caller ID showed it was Mr. Mitchell, one of my dad’s longtime business partners. I stepped into the stairwell to answer the call. “Emma,” Mr. Mitchell began, “just wanted to let you know—Julie’s been on my case again. She’s pushing me to deposit more money into your branch and trying to sell me a bunch of insurance policies.” I rolled my eyes. Julie was relentless, squeezing every client for all they were worth without any regard for their circumstances. An idea suddenly clicked in my mind. “I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Mitchell,” I said, my voice apologetic. He chuckled. “It’s not your fault, but honestly, it’s the end of the year, and I’ve got tight cash flow. I don’t think I can swing it.” “That’s okay,” I said, my tone light. “Go ahead and have your accountant withdraw the funds. Just do what works best for you.”

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In my previous life, my husband Edward Wilson had saved me first because I was pregnant. By the time he turned back to save his childhood friend, Jessica Mitchell, Jessica had already been bitten by a viper. Edward had hated me ever since. A month later, I was chained up in a secret room with hundreds of vipers roaming the floor. I screamed for help in terror, but Edward’s grim voice came from outside the door. He said, “Elizabeth, you asshole. You got Jessica killed, and I’m going to give you a taste of what it’s like to be bitten by vipers.” In the end, I was bitten by hundreds of vipers, and my body was eaten up. Opening my eyes again, I went back to the day of the encounter. There was a sharp pain coming from my body, and I slowly opened my eyes to find myself at the bottom of a cliff in the forest. If it weren’t for the soft dirt beneath me, I would have died. I was a guide at Ailfa Mount Forest Park and was 12 weeks pregnant. I was supposed to be resting at home, but my husband, Edward Wilson, insisted that I be a guide for his childhood friend, Jessica Mitchell. I was furious. “I’m pregnant now. Why are you making me give Jessica a tour guide?” Edward said, “If Jessica’s personal tour guide hadn’t had a temporary commitment, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this, Elizabeth. Besides, you’re only 12 weeks pregnant. It won’t hurt.” I got angry and said angrily, “I’m not going.” “Go or get a divorce,” said Edward. I could only compromise. In my previous life, I had taken Jessica walking in the safety of the forest park. But she took advantage of my inattention and ran into the primitive forest of Ailfa Mount, which was infested with poisonous insects, miasma, and crisis. I couldn’t leave her alone and had to chase after her. When I came to a cliff, Jessica said that there seemed to be a person at the bottom of the cliff, so I went over to look. But she suddenly pushed me off the cliff. Jessica said, “Elizabeth, go to hell. As long as you die, I can be with Edward.” Luckily, the bottom of the cliff was soft dirt, and I survived. I endured the excruciating pain and groped for half an hour on the ground full of rotten and withered leaves before I finally found the micro-recorder. In my previous life, after I awakened, I had been eager to save myself. Only after I was saved did I realize that the micro-recorder was gone. Without the micro recorder, no matter how I explained the truth, Edward just didn’t believe me. I took a closer look at the micro-recorder and was relieved to find that it was not broken. I had a habit of taking the recorder with me when I did one-on-one guided tours so that I could have proof if something happened that I couldn’t explain. The one thing I could be sure of now was that Jessica had dared to kill me in the primeval forest because she had traveled this road with her private guide. But she overestimated herself. The primeval forest of Ailfa Mount was like a labyrinth. Even if she had walked through it dozens of times, she would still get lost, let alone without a guide, which was why she was also in danger. After I bandaged my injured leg at the bottom of the cliff, I immediately followed the route I had taken in my previous life to leave the mountain. In this life, I didn’t want anything to do with Edward and wouldn’t ask him for help. Coming to the tree I had seen in my previous life, I realized that there were two paths in front of me. In my previous life, I chose the left one, which led to getting lost before I asked Edward for help. In this life, I chose the right path and headed for the right side. After I had walked 1250 yards, there was a sudden chill of cold air in front of me, and then I realized that a white mist had risen from the ground. I hastily retreated. The white mist was miasma, and I would die if I inhaled it. I was forced to the tree again. Looking at the time, it was already past three in the afternoon. Ailfa Mount would be dark by five. At night, Ailfa Mount was infested with poisonous insects and wild animals, and it was very cold. It would be dangerous for me to lose my warmth. I had no choice but to take the left side of the road. After an hour or so, it was dark. I climbed up a tree and looked for a signal source. At this time, my cell phone battery was only 2% left. Luckily, as in my previous life, I got through to Edward at the last minute. “Edward, I’m in distress, probably southeast of Ailfa Mount, within 9100 yards upstream of Snake Lake. Come and help me,” I yelled. Edward said, “How could you, as a veteran guide at Ailfa Mount, not get out? You’re such a vicious woman. How dare you take Jessica into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount? Do you want to kill Jessica? I know what’s in your mind. Don’t pretend to be lost. I’ll settle the score with you when you get out. Right now, I’m going to save Jessica.”

With that, Edward hung up. I froze. What was going on? In my previous life, he would have obviously come to my rescue first, and he didn’t say those words. After thinking for a moment, I suddenly understood. Edward had also been reborn. This time, he chose to save Jessica first. I tried to call the rescue center, but my phone was dead. I felt a wave of fear enveloped me. On all sides were interlocking and strange trees, and the weird noises were emanating from the gloom. I couldn’t delay any longer and had to get out of the mountain quickly. At the moment, I was lost in reverse, but I had to keep going. My injured leg went from pain to numbness. As I walked, it got dark. I was exhausted. The water and food in my backpack had been eaten up by Jessica not long into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount. I sat on the ground panting heavily as the temperature reached 23 degrees Fahrenheit and the branches of the trees lit up with eerie silver “lights”. They were night birds staring at me. In the distance, there was a horrible hissing of wild animals. I was a bit desperate, not knowing whether I could get out alive. Just then, a few lights penetrated through. It was the rescue team coming. “Elizabeth, why aren’t you out yet?” The two team members who came, Henry Carter and Kevin Parker, were Edward’s men. “Henry, Kevin, it’s good you’re here. Hurry up and get me out of here,” I said breathlessly. “But we have a mission. Edward told us to search and rescue Jessica,” said Henry. “Aren’t you guys going to rescue me?” I questioned. At that moment, Henry’s satellite phone rang, and it was Edward calling. Edward asked, “Did you two find Jessica?” Henry replied, “Edward, we didn’t find Jessica, but we did find Elizabeth. Should we take Elizabeth out first?” “Don’t bother with her. She’s just trying to delay you guys from getting to Jessica. You guys hurry and head downstream to Snake Lake,” said Edward anxiously. “Henry, Kevin, I’m really dying. Why don’t one of you two take me out first, and the rest of you keep looking for Jessica?” I pleaded. “Elizabeth, the rescue team has a rule that two people are required for an action. Going alone would be dangerous,” explained Henry. “Elizabeth, our whole team knows that you hate Jessica. But you went too far this time. How could you take Jessica into the primeval forest? You should know very well the danger of Ailfa Mount.” Kevin complained about me for Jessica. Henry said, “Kevin is right. Elizabeth, you really went too far this time. If anything happens to Jessica, you are legally responsible. “Also, how could you get lost? You’re the guide of Ailfa Mount. You should be more familiar with the geography here than us.” I was a guide for the Ailfa Mount attractions, not for the Ailfa Mount primeval forest. Henry said, “Elizabeth, stop pretending.” “I’m not pretending. Can’t you guys see that my leg is hurt?” I said angrily. Henry looked at my leg and said, “Then you wait for us here, and we’ll go search and rescue Jessica first.” Wait? How long would I have to wait? I didn’t know if Jessica had been bitten by a snake right now. If a snake had bitten her, they would have waited in place for a helicopter rescue. At that time, would they be able to come back and rescue me? I said, “Give me water, food, and an outdoor jacket, and I’ll get out on my own.” I decided to save myself. After giving me the supplies, they both continued to swim down towards Snake Lake. I was less tired after I put on the outdoor jacket, drank water, and ate cookies. I couldn’t continue walking at night. A campfire was built, and I was too wary to sleep. Just after six in the morning, a faint bright light shone through the cracks in the branches of the trees to the ground, and I started to move. After six hours of walking, I finally made it to the exit. Just at the moment of relief, the stabbing pain in my leg and exhaustion suddenly hit me, and I passed out.

When I woke up, I found myself in the hospital at the Ailfa Mount. “Elizabeth, would you like some water?” A girl asked me. “Kayla?” She was Kayla Watson, my coworker. She had happened to find me fainting at the exit and took me to the hospital. “How did you get into the primeval forest?” asked Kayla, puzzled. I said, “It’s complicated.” Just then, Edward’s voice came from the corridor. “Where is she?” Kayla immediately walked over. “Edward, your wife is here.” The door to the ward was open. I looked over at Edward, and his eyes were so cold. A man said, “Edward, Jessica is in Ward 8.” “How is she?” Edward asked. The man replied, “She’s fine, just losing her warmth.” “That’s good.” Edward went straight to Ward 8. Kayla was shocked. “Why didn’t your husband come in to see you?” I smiled bitterly and didn’t explain. The next day at noon, I saw Edward walking through the corridor with a lunch box. He didn’t even glance toward me as if I didn’t exist. I had bought that lunchbox. I would often go to the rescue unit to bring food to Edward. Now, he was carrying my lunchbox and delivering food to his beloved. It was kind of ironic! I was getting ready for bed around ten o’clock at night when Jessica pushed open the door and came in. I asked, “What do you want?” Jessica said wickedly, “I really didn’t think you were so tough that falling off a cliff didn’t kill you.” I said, “Are you going to turn yourself in, or am I going to call the police on you?” Jessica laughed, “Do you have any evidence? Who would believe you?” “There’s always a day when the truth is revealed,” I said. Jessica said smugly, “The truth? The truth right now is that you took me into Ailfa Mount and tried to kill me. I desperately ran away from you and was saved. “By the way, are you having a hard, aggravating time right now? Edward chose to save me instead of you.” After experiencing my previous life, I was now utterly disappointed in Edward. If I hadn’t encountered the miasma, I wouldn’t have asked Edward for help. “Have you finished? Get out when you’re done,” I said in a cold voice. Just then, the sound of steady, heavy footsteps came from the corridor. The footsteps were all too familiar to me. It was Edward. Suddenly, Jessica slapped herself. Then, she collapsed on the floor and looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Edward and I are just friends, Elizabeth. I can understand that you don’t believe me. But why did you hit me?” The door to my ward was pushed open. Edward dropped the food he was holding and ran over, heartbroken, to help Jessica up. “Elizabeth, you’re a mean, vicious bitch. Jessica wasn’t wrong. Why did you hit her? Don’t you realize she hasn’t recovered from the distress?” “Did I not get in distress? Did I recover physically?” I asked. Edward said, “You deserved it. If you hadn’t lured Jessica inside the primeval forest, not so much would have happened.” “Do you believe anything she says?” I questioned. Edward said firmly, “Yes, Jessica doesn’t lie.” I roared, “Fine. I don’t want to argue with you guys. You’re both assholes. Get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see either of you.” “My face hurts.” Jessica cried, covering her cheek in aggravation. Edward was outraged and reached out to slap me hard. I was dazed from the slap and stumbled, falling to the ground. A sharp pain came from my belly. Looking between my legs, I realized that blood was flowing out.

After coming out of the emergency room, the doctor told Edward and I that the baby was fine. “You rest easy and nurse the baby. Deal with our marriage after the baby is born,” said Edward icily. “Do you still care about the baby?” I sneered. Edward said, “Of course. The baby is my bloodline. How could I not care?” His words were so ironic. In my previous life, he had ignored the fact that I was pregnant, locked me up in a secret room full of poisonous snakes, let me be bitten alive by the snakes, and then watched as the already-formed child and I were eaten clean by the snakes. But in this life, he cared about the baby. After Edward left, I approached the doctor. “Doctor, please perform an abortion on me.” I thought, “My child, don’t blame me for being cruel. Even if I give birth to you, you won’t be happy. Living a new life, I don’t want to have any involvement or ties with Edward. Forgive me, my child.” After being discharged from the hospital, I returned home and opened my computer to draft the divorce agreement. Just after ten in the evening, Edward came home. “I have something to say to you.” We both surprisingly spoke in unison. “Go ahead,” I said. Edward said, “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to Jessica to apologize, and you’ll have to beg her forgiveness.” I laughed, “Are you insane? Are you asking me to beg her for forgiveness?” “Shouldn’t it be? Jessica and I are just friends. I just think of her as a sister. But you’re so petty and vicious that you always think Jessica and I have something to hide,” said Edward stubbornly. “Are you sure you really just see Jessica as a sister? What sister would ask you to go to her room in the middle of the night to install a light? What sister would come to my house when I’m on a business trip and watch TV in your arms in a miniskirt?” I retorted. Edward blushed, obviously knowing I was right. “Regardless, it was your fault for luring Jessica into the primeval forest of Ailfa Mount this time. You were so evil that you tried to get Jessica killed. Shouldn’t you apologize?” He said loudly. I was furious and took out my micro-recorder, placing it in front of him, then roared, “See for yourself exactly who harmed whom.”

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After receiving my year-end bonus, I took my four-year-old nephew, Oliver Blackwood, to the supermarket. “Oliver, pick anything you like. I’ll pay for it.” Oliver scratched his head, his soft, tender voice replying, “Thank you, Aunt Aurora. I don’t need anything.” I thought he was being considerate about how hard I worked to earn money, and I was deeply moved. But what he said next felt like a bucket of cold water being dumped over me. “Mom said the snacks and fruits you buy are too cheap. She told me to ask you for jewelry and then coax you into saving money to buy me a house and a car! “Aunt Aurora, Mom said you’re single and won’t get married. When you get old and die, all your money will be mine. I want to live in a big villa with a playground!” Staring at his innocent face, I was lost in thought. “Oliver, did your mom really tell you that?” I squatted down and held Oliver’s little hand, speaking softly. Oliver nodded earnestly. “Of course! I’m a good boy; I never lie! “Mom said that as long as I say sweet things to you, you’ll give me anything I want!” Forcing a smile, I said, “You’re a good boy, Oliver, but I don’t have enough money. How about today we buy some fruits and toys? If you keep being an honest and good kid, I’ll take you to the amusement park next time. Does that sound good?” “Yay!” Oliver cheered, throwing his arms around my neck and planting a kiss on my cheek before dragging me enthusiastically toward the supermarket. Watching his joyful, innocent smile, I heaved a long sigh. If not for Oliver’s candid words, I’d never have imagined the kind of schemes his mother, Celeste Langley, had been hatching. Celeste was my age, always wearing a warm, gentle smile, appearing kind and simple. When she started dating my brother, Elliott Blackwood, I treated her exceptionally well. She mentioned liking a particular brand of cosmetics once, so I spent a month’s salary to buy it for her as a birthday gift. She admired a certain singer, so I camped out in front of my computer for two days to snag concert tickets for her. Elliott was unreliable, lazy, and lacking ambition. Feeling guilty about their son’s shortcomings, my parents treated Celeste even better. They had always been willing to fulfill her every request, carefully attending to her, afraid that she might suffer even the slightest grievance. When Celeste and Elliott began discussing marriage, my parents insisted on buying their marital home in the same neighborhood as ours. That way, they could eat at our house daily, have their home cleaned, and get help with childcare in the future. Celeste made no objections, instead linking arms with my mom and praising her thoughtfulness. My parents emptied a large portion of their savings to fund a lavish wedding for them and handed Celeste a bank card with seed money for their new family. After she married into our family, Celeste would come over to my parents’ place for meals every day. At first, everything was great, but over time, the tensions between her and my parents grew more and more. She complained that my mom’s cooking was too salty and not to her liking. So, after work, I would study recipes and cook lighter meals that suited her taste. She criticized my mom for not cleaning thoroughly enough, so I started cleaning their home every few days. She complained that my dad’s voice was too loud and annoying, so he began speaking in hushed tones. She even threw a fit when my parents didn’t wish her a happy birthday at midnight. “Now that I’m married, I guess I’m not important anymore! I see how it is. I’ll always be an outsider in this family! “Forgetting my birthday shows how little you care! Don’t tell me you treat me like your daughter. It’s obvious I don’t matter!” She would even get upset over fruit in the fridge. “You’re hiding the fruit from me, aren’t you? Afraid I’ll eat it all? Your family is just too much!”

My parents didn’t dare to defend themselves, fearing it would make her angry, treading on eggshells. Every time Celeste came over, they instructed me to wash the fruit, arrange it neatly on a platter, and repeatedly invite her to eat it. She liked eating durian, so my mother would send it to her home. She loved shopping, so my mom would frequently slip her money, ensuring she never went without. Yet Celeste treated me with extraordinary warmth. She’d link arms with me, chat endlessly, and even buy me collectibles I adored or treat me to late-night snacks. She said, “Aurora, you work so hard cooking and cleaning for me. I can’t thank you enough! “I like you the most. From the moment I met you, I knew we’d get along so well! “Aurora, you’re the person I feel closest to in this family!” I sympathized with Celeste for leaving her own parents and trying to fit into our family. It seemed natural for her to have some friction with my parents. Whenever my parents complained that Celeste was two-faced or had changed, I always defended her. “Celeste left her parents to come to our home for love. She has to adapt to a new environment and adjust to living with us. It’s completely normal for her to feel anxious, upset, and frustrated. “We need to understand her and show her more love and tolerance. “Mom, Dad, treat Celeste like your own daughter. Stop being so critical of her all the time! “Celeste is actually a really good person; she just has a bit of a ‘princess syndrome’, but it’s not a big deal. Just pamper her a bit, and she’ll be fine. She’s both gentle and innocent! Stop nitpicking over every little thing! “She only pays attention to details because she craves love and attention. What’s wrong with that? “How would you feel if someone called me two-faced in another family?” My parents would fall silent, guilt-ridden. They stopped nitpicking Celeste and tried even harder to please her. My mom tried hard to please Celeste, taking her shopping and buying her anything Celeste liked. During holidays, she would even prepare gifts for Celeste in advance They would do their best to make her happy, always managing to get Celeste smiling They would even occasionally pay for the items she added to her Amazon shopping cart! This effort seemed to improve their relationship. When Celeste became pregnant with Oliver, we treated her like royalty. She quit her job to focus on her pregnancy. My mom accompanied her on walks and to yoga classes. To ensure Celeste’s health, my mom bought numerous pregnancy nutrition books. After work, I would go to Celeste’s home, cooking meals from those books and caring for her as best I could. I would often buy her maternity milk powder, fruits, and calcium tablets, taking great care of her. When Oliver was born, Celeste complained about the financial burden on Elliott. Heartbroken, my parents dipped into their retirement savings to support their little family. I volunteered to cover Oliver’s milk and diapers, even though it left me pinching pennies for years. But whenever Oliver smiled at me, I convinced myself it was all worth it. In my mind, family should always support and help each other. Celeste had just given birth and was emotionally unstable. She was so good to me, so I definitely couldn’t let her worry about money. While money was no longer an issue, childcare was a massive challenge. I was busy working, often returning home late at night. Elliott was too tired from work during the day and lacked patience. One night, while trying to put Oliver to sleep, he almost dropped him. He broke six bottles trying to prepare formula. All the burdens fell on my mom. Not only did she take care of Oliver during the day, but she also stayed overnight at Celeste’s house. After several days of this, she became seriously ill and had to stay in the hospital for several days. Three days later, Celeste, disheveled and desperate, came to me. “Aurora, these past few days of taking care of Oliver have been nothing but fights with Elliott. Our life is in shambles. “I’m so exhausted! I feel like I have no freedom. Everything revolves around the baby! “I can’t breathe. It feels like there’s no light at the end of the tunnel! “Sometimes, when Oliver is crying nonstop, I just want to jump off the building with him! “Aurora, I can’t stand his crying. It drives me crazy. What’s wrong with me?”

I panicked, thinking this was a textbook case of postpartum depression. After discussing it with my parents, my mom became so anxious she discharged herself from the hospital that very day. My parents gave Elliott a stern scolding, but Elliott shrugged nonchalantly and said, “I can’t help it. I’m already exhausted every day, and now you expect me to take care of the baby? That’s impossible. “Mom’s out of the hospital now, right? You can just take the baby and care for him yourselves! I’m your only son; if you won’t help me, who will?” My parents sighed in resignation. To give Celeste some much-needed rest, we decided to bring Oliver to our home. Worried that my mom was overworked, I took the initiative to care for Oliver on weekends and after work. Once Oliver was with us, Celeste’s depression completely vanished. Elliott and Celeste also stopped arguing. Celeste would visit occasionally to see Oliver, but sometimes, she wouldn’t come by for an entire week. She spent her days dressed to the nines, going shopping and eating out. I looked at the crying Oliver in my arms, feeling hopeless. She was the one who gave birth, yet I was the one left to deal with the stress and exhaustion. Still, I never once complained because Celeste truly understood me. Whenever my parents pressured me to get married, she was the only one who firmly stood by my side. “Aurora doesn’t want to get married, so don’t force her! “Does marriage guarantee happiness? You’re just pushing her into a pit of fire!” I was deeply moved as she linked her arm through mine and smiled warmly. “Aurora, staying single is great! Who says you have to get married at a certain age? “You earn your own money, have a promising future, and are surrounded by family and friends who care for you. Isn’t being single so much freer? Don’t let others’ opinions bother you. I’ll always support you! “Just focus on raising our Oliver! When he grows up and becomes successful, how could he possibly forget his dear aunt? “When you’re old, Oliver will take care of you!” I genuinely believed Celeste cared about me, and I grew even closer to her. And now, I realized that she intended for me to spend all my money on Oliver. She was kind to me simply because she was worried that once I had my own family and child, I wouldn’t be as good to Oliver. Over the years, I poured my heart and soul into Oliver, giving him everything I could. From the moment he was born, I paid for his formula and diapers. As he grew older, I bought him clothes and toys. I took him to amusement parks, bought him snacks and fruits, and even enrolled him in early education classes. But it turned out that wasn’t enough for Celeste. What she really wanted was for me to buy Oliver a house and a car and even fund his wedding! I thought to myself, “Why on earth should I take on Celeste’s responsibilities?” It was laughable, utterly absurd! When we returned home from the supermarket, Celeste was already there. She looked at the large shopping bags in my hands and smiled brightly. “Oliver, you’ve made Aunt Aurora buy you so many things again! That’s so naughty of you! “Next time, you can’t do this again. Aunt Aurora works so hard to earn her money!” Oliver nodded with an innocent expression. Perhaps my earlier encouragement stayed with him because he glanced up at me thoughtfully. Then, he turned to Celeste and blurted out, “I get it, Mom! These things are all too cheap. We should have Aunt Aurora save up to buy me jewelry, a house, and a car!” Oliver’s words left everyone stunned.

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I Supported My Wife in Her Career, Only to Find Out She Betrayed Me When her grandmother passed away, my wife, Patricia Rowland, claimed she needed to mourn and refused to be intimate with me for two years. She landed a major project in Ganlria and left for six months. The day before my birthday, I noticed a payment record for a maid outfit. I thought it was a surprise for me. Traveling 1,242 miles to see her, I discovered the truth. On her computer’s WhatsApp, a man had sent her a private message: [Baby, wait till you see how I punish you tonight!] A moment later, Patricia replied: [I can’t. Leopold Benton is here today.] He responded instantly: [Such a nuisance!] [Don’t let him touch you!] Patricia replied with a laughing emoji: [You’re such a jealous guy.] I stared in disbelief at the messages. Then, I glanced at the unwrapped maid outfit and the accompanying adult toys. What I thought was my birthday surprise was meant for someone else. I scrolled through their chat history. It was filled with flirty, suggestive exchanges and everyday musings, from work projects to little things like flowers and random musings. I closed my eyes helplessly. Suddenly, I understood why Patricia, once so eager to share her life with me, had grown distant. I thought she was busy with work, but it wasn’t her work keeping her preoccupied, it was another man! I clicked on his profile. His WhatsApp ID was Can’tHelpTeasingYou, while Patricia’s was SweetSurrender. I once thought she chose that name because of me. But the fool here was me. On his Instagram, I found a recent post. The two of them stood on Ganlria Tower, kissing passionately. Patricia tilted her head back, eyes closed, utterly immersed. The image stabbed at my heart. I remembered the first time Patricia and I rode a Ferris wheel. I was so terrified that I was drenched in sweat by the time we got off. She hugged me, promising we’d never ride one again. The woman in the photo seemed like a stranger to me now. I scrolled further. There was a photo of the man holding a new drone with the caption that read, “Birthday gift from my baby!” Last month, Patricia had asked me about the trendiest drones, saying she needed to buy one for a client. I recommended that exact model. Continuing, I saw a picture of her wearing a large diamond ring on her left hand. The man held her hand, kissing it gently. The diamond overshadowed the tattooed ring from our wedding vows, vows which she promised. Her promise from back then still seemed to echo in my ears. “I’ll engrave your name on my finger, so we’re bonded for life.” Now, she accepted another man’s ring, erasing those memories. Their shared life played out in the photos, attending concerts, wearing matching outfits, and adopting a pet together. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply before opening them again. I gritted my teeth. Suppressing the ache in my chest, I calmly recorded everything, their chats, his WhatsApp number, every detail. Then, I carefully wiped my fingerprints off her computer mouse.

When Patricia returned, she came back carrying a cake, her tone cheerful. “Happy birthday, honey!” After lighting the candles, she urged me warmly. “Make a wish, dear.” I smiled, reaching to touch her face. “It’s been so long… How about tonight?” Her expression shifted, and she instinctively stepped back. “Stop it. I’m not in the mood today.” A smile froze on my face, and my expression darkened. Sensing my change, Patricia grabbed my arm. “Don’t overthink it. I’m still mourning my grandmother’s death. You know how close I was to her. She practically raised me while my parents were away. I promised to mourn her for two years.” I sneered, “From what I know, there’s no custom in your hometown about avoiding intimacy during mourning, is there?” “It’s my fault, Leopold. Can you give me a little more time, please?” she said. When she saw my gaze fall on the open package, a flicker of panic crossed her face. She explained, “Honey, don’t misunderstand. This is something Barbara DeLeon bought and sent here. She’s new to dating and shy. I was planning to give it to her tomorrow.” Recalling the messages I had just seen, I clenched my fists quietly. I already knew she’d refuse me, but it still stung. She pulled a box out of her bag and handed it to me. “Here, a birthday gift for you.” It was a pair of ordinary running shoes. When I thought of that drone worth tens of thousands of dollars, bitterness rose in my chest. “Oh, by the way, how long are you staying this time?” she asked. I sneered, “How long do you want me to stay?” She froze for a moment and then smiled, “Of course, I wish you could stay with me forever. But you know, the company’s project is just getting started, and I really can’t take much time off.” She added, “I’m afraid you’ll get bored by yourself. How about this? I’ll take a break tomorrow and show you around Ganlria. That way, you can get back to work sooner, too.” Hearing the distance in her words, I pretended to be considerate and nodded. The next day, she took a cab to work. I installed two cameras, one in her apartment and another in her car. I knew the priority now was to gather evidence. She took a half-day off and spent the afternoon showing me around Golden Park. The whole time, she was busy replying to messages, occasionally laughing softly. When I looked over, she explained it was work-related. At dinner, she meticulously picked the spices out of my food, just as she always did. For a moment, I felt like she was still the woman I once knew. Then her phone rang. She instinctively rejected it. She gave me an apologetic look. “Honey, there’s an emergency at the office I need to handle. “Take your time. I might be back late tonight.” She kissed my cheek before leaving. I swallowed the wave of disgust that rose in me. Not long after, I heard her car start. I hurried to pay the bill and then flagged a cab. The driver asked, “Where to?” “Follow that red BMW,” I said.

Later, I turned on the camera in Patricia’s car. “I told you not to call me today,” she said sharply. The man chuckled, “I missed you.” “Ugh, you’re so smooth-talking,” Patricia replied, her tone playful. “I’m heading to the office. Wait for me there.” “We could go to a hotel,” the man suggested. “It’s too risky. Leopold has friends around here. Fine. I’ll make it up to you later,” Patricia cooed him for a while before hanging up. Her car pulled into the project department. I went to a café across the street and sat in a booth by the window. From there, I could see her in her office through the window. At some point, a man appeared in her office. His face wasn’t clear, but I knew he was the one. Patricia called me. “Honey, are you asleep?” I forced myself to stay calm, and I knew this wasn’t the right time to confront her. “Not yet.” “Ugh, something went wrong with the handover this morning. I’ll have to work late tonight.” “Don’t overwork yourself,” I replied, pretending to be understanding as usual. “Okay, I’ll bring you some late-night snacks when I get back. Go sleep now.” After hanging up, I watched through the window as the man grabbed her phone and tossed it aside. He pushed Patricia against the desk. In one swift motion, he lifted her onto the desk, positioning himself between her legs. Patricia resisted weakly, but the man walked to the window and pulled the curtains closed. Even with the curtains drawn, their silhouettes were cast clearly against the fabric. A sudden clap of thunder shook the sky, and heavy rain poured down. Raindrops pelted against the windows, making a loud, rhythmic sound. My wife was cheating on me with another man on a desk. I sat in a private booth, holding up my phone to record the scene. I wanted to rip them apart! I wanted everyone to see these two despicable cheaters. But I knew that blurry footage wouldn’t be enough. I needed to calm down and plan my next move. As I stared at the glowing city lights outside, my mind drifted back to five years ago.

It was the year the pandemic broke out. I was juggling a part-time job while studying at Moonria University. One day, I got an order to deliver medicine. That was the first time I met Patricia. She was burning with fever, barely able to stand as she clung to the doorframe. I couldn’t ignore her condition. I made her some medicine, but we both ended up quarantined in her house. Patricia was seriously ill. I couldn’t relax for a moment, caring for her around the clock. When the lockdown lifted, we got together. After graduation, I stayed by her side as we started a business in Moonria. We lived in a tiny basement and survived on dry bread and cold water. But I never imagined that one day, she’d betray all we had built together for another man. I first heard the name Brian Ellison in the second year of our startup. Post-pandemic, starting a company was incredibly tough. One day, she came home excited, practically glowing. “Guess what? I met someone amazing today. He gave us a five-million-dollar deal in one go! Our company is saved!” After that, she always prepared gifts for him on holidays. She said it was necessary to maintain a long-term partnership. But I never thought she’d one day offer herself up as part of the deal. They said love without a strong foundation crumbled like sand. I stayed up late coding, building our website, and assembling our core team. I worked hard to study finance, law, and management, all to support her. But against wealth and power, my efforts seemed utterly worthless. I lifted Patricia to new heights, only for her to play the part of a heartless betrayer. I didn’t blame her. I blamed myself for being blind. When Patricia got home, I pretended to be asleep. She set down a late-night snack by my side. “You didn’t eat well tonight, right? I brought you some steak. Try it. I noticed the hickeys on her neck. I smirked coldly. “What happened to your neck?” “Oh, the mosquitoes in Ganlria are so much worse than the ones up north. They’re driving me crazy. I’m going to take a shower,” she said, quickly covering her neck as she avoided my gaze. It was such a poor excuse. Yet it took me until now to see through her lies. I chuckled bitterly and threw the steak straight into the trash. That night, Patricia snuggled up to my arm in bed. I casually turned over, pulling my arm away. The next morning, I packed my suitcase and left early. “I got called back to Moonria for work,” I told her. Patricia sat up groggily. “I’ll take you to the airport.” “No need. Get some more sleep.” She opened her arms for a hug. “Call me when you land, okay?” “Sure,” I replied, ignored my physical discomfort, and played along with her act. I thought of the time years ago when I returned from studying in another city, arriving on a late-night flight. My flight was delayed, and Patricia waited for me outside the airport for five long hours on the freezing winter night. She caught a terrible cold because of it, and I felt guilty for days. After that, I never let her come to pick me up again. As I reached the boarding gate, Patricia texted me. [Are you at the airport yet?] I snapped a photo of the terminal and sent it to her. Then I tore up my plane ticket and called a friend.

My friend Jimmy Andrade was a travel livestreamer with millions of fans, and Patricia’s parents happen to be among his most loyal followers. I asked him to bring Patricia’s parents to Ganlria as part of a special event for his fans. After arranging everything, I sat down in the airport lounge. To avoid raising Patricia’s suspicions, I put my phone on airplane mode. Then, I connected to the surveillance cameras in Patricia’s apartment. I had seen her chat history with Brian before. Today was Brian’s birthday, and Patricia had already planned to celebrate it at her apartment. But my arrival disrupted her plans. Now, I was helping her fulfill them! As expected, Patricia left work early. She came home carrying a large cake along with bags of groceries. She once said cooking would hurt her skin, so I had taken the time to learn and cook for her, always trying new recipes to surprise her. The person I had cared for so much was now happily cooking for someone else. I felt women were truly shameless. Patricia had just set the dishes on the table when Brian entered the apartment. He acted like it was his own home, effortlessly punching in the door code and even slipping into my slippers. He hugged Patricia from behind. “With a lover like you, what more could I want?” “Stop sweet-talking me!” Patricia teased, tilting her head with a playful pout. “Wash your hands and eat.” “No, I want to taste you first!” “Stop it. Leopold left in such a rush today that I still feel uneasy. Let me make a quick call first.” Brian looked annoyed, but Patricia tiptoed and kissed him to calm him down. After that, she picked up her phone and stepped onto the balcony to call me. When she heard the out-of-service message, she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. I checked the time, turned off airplane mode, and called her. “Hey, honey, have you landed?” she asked. “Yeah.” “Alright, then, when you get to the office, could you… Ah!” I watched through the camera as Brian suddenly wrapped his arms around Patricia from behind, his hands wandering all over her. My throat tightened, but I feigned ignorance and asked in a hoarse voice, “What happened?” Through the phone, I heard Patricia’s shaky moan. “Nothing… I just spilled water on my hand. I’ll call you back… Ah!” I called again on purpose, but Brian snatched her phone and turned it off. “What are you doing?” Patricia grabbed his misbehaving hand. “Humph. You care so much about him. It’s making me jealous.” “I’ve already given you my heart and body. Isn’t that enough?” “No, I want you to have my child,” he declared arrogantly. “A child? That depends on whether you’re up to the task.” “How dare you question me? Fine, I’ll make you beg for mercy tonight!” When he mentioned having a child, I thought she would refuse. She once told me she disliked kids and wanted to be child-free with me. I respected her wishes and never pushed her. Now, she wanted to have a child with that scumbag. Listening to their vulgar words, I thought I had grown numb. But why could I still feel the sound of my heart tearing apart? She was blatantly cheating with another man, yet still acted like she loved me deeply. I thought, “How shameless! Since you’ve decided to throw away your dignity, why should I bother preserving it for you?” Jimmy texted me to confirm the plan. Without hesitation, I packaged the footage I had just recorded and sent it to Patricia’s family group chat. Then, I turned off my phone.

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On our third wedding anniversary, I tricked my husband, Benedict Gabor, into signing the divorce papers. The reason was that the doctor said I had stomach cancer and wouldn’t live past three months. Benedict thought I was throwing a tantrum. Annoyed but dismissive, he signed the papers and then whisked his precious Tylor Gabor away on a scenic overseas getaway. Later, when he realized I was serious, he used every method possible, threats, schemes, even outright vengeance, to try and bring me back. But all he got was a final goodbye at my funeral, delivered through a video I left behind. “Benedict,” my recorded voice began, calm and steady, “if you’re watching this, I’m already dead…” That day, the proud and unshakable Benedict finally lost his mind. I first sensed it was over when I landed in the hospital from overworking myself into a bleeding stomach. At that very moment, Benedict was at home, hosting a private fireworks show for Tylor in the backyard. When reporters shoved their microphones in my face, I forced a smile through my pale, exhausted expression. “Don’t speculate,” I said. “Benedict and I are doing fine. The girl you saw with him is just his cousin.” The journalists looked unconvinced, their disdain and disbelief practically dripping off their faces. The truth was, I wasn’t entirely lying. Tylor wasn’t his real cousin, though, just an orphan taken in by Benedict’s family. Our marriage had always been a calculated business arrangement. Benedict had played his role well until Tylor came back three months ago. Since then, he’d stuck to her side like glue, completely forgetting he even had a wife. The “perfect husband” image that the media had painted for him was nothing but a façade. That night, while the entire household staff was preparing fireworks for Tylor, I called Benedict over and over again. He didn’t answer. Left with no choice, I discharged myself from the hospital and took a cab home. The house was alive with celebration, the vibrant colors of fireworks painting the night sky. I stepped into the yard, cold and silent, entirely out of place amidst the revelry. Under the fireworks that illuminated the backyard, I saw Benedict tidying Tylor’s hair and feeding her a piece of cake. Suddenly, I felt like an outsider. The autumn leaves covered the ground. As I stepped on them, they crackled softly. Tylor noticed me first. She jumped out of Benedict’s arms like a frightened rabbit, her delicate expression painted with innocence. “Kendra!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling. “Please don’t misunderstand! We were just celebrating the company’s revival!” Huh. Revival? A celebration? Was she serious? The company did revive, yet she had no part in its recovery, none at all. As my disdainful gaze swept over them, Benedict charged toward me, shielding Tylor like she was a priceless treasure. “Kendra, can you stop wearing that poker face all day?” he snapped, his voice sharp and full of irritation. “Enough with the innocent routine in front of the cameras. Haven’t you had enough? “What do you want? My sympathy? My pity? Dream on!” Behind him, Tylor clung to his arm, her eyes glistening with crocodile tears. “Benedict, please calm down,” she whispered, trembling. “You’re scaring me.” The scene was absurd, a soap opera unfolding in my own home. But I was too exhausted to focus on this drama. To their surprise, I forced a smile, closing the distance between us. “Benny,” I said softly, my tone full of practiced sweetness, “don’t be mad. I didn’t misunderstand. I just wanted to remind you… today’s my birthday. I know you’ve been busy and must’ve forgotten, but it’s okay. I don’t blame you.” For a split second, he froze. A hint of guilt flickered across his face before being quickly buried beneath his usual indifference. “Birthday?” he repeated, scoffing. “Didn’t you always say you hated celebrating your birthday?” Yes. I used to say that. My mother had died giving birth to me. My birthday was also her death anniversary. My father, who worshipped her, would spend every year mourning her with grand ceremonies. For years, I avoided celebrating my birthday. But Benedict had once changed that. Over the first two years of our marriage, he’d celebrated with me, helping me shake off the shadow of grief. I could still remember his gentle words, whispered in my ear with a warm smile. “Kendra, from now on, you’ll never feel alone on your birthday. You’re not a curse. You’re my good luck charm.” Looking at him now, standing in front of me to shield Tylor, I realized those words had long since lost their meaning. But it didn’t hurt anymore. He didn’t know I’d already tricked him into signing the divorce papers a week ago.

The stomach bleeding today wasn’t a fluke. A week ago, I had been diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, with only three months left to live. That scene was still fresh in my memory. It was our third wedding anniversary, and I sat alone in the hospital hallway. Sweat soaked through the diagnosis report in my trembling hands. My legs felt like lead; I tried to stand several times but failed. My frayed nerves finally snapped after I called Benedict for the tenth time. “Kendra! Are you insane? Just because you have nothing better to do doesn’t mean others aren’t busy!” he roared. He wasn’t wrong. I was very sick, and it was indeed driving me insane. Before I could respond, a woman’s honeyed voice floated through the phone, turning my unsaid words into a lump in my throat. “Benedict! I knew you’d come! You missed me, didn’t you?” I heard Benedict’s low chuckle before the call was abruptly cut off. It wasn’t the first time. The first time he stood me up was to pick up Tylor when she returned to the country. The first time he hit me was because Tylor had damaged my piano. At first, I was shocked, but gradually, I stopped caring. The searing pain I once felt dulled into a faint ache. I made excuses for him over and over again, convincing myself it was all because Tylor was his cousin, and he had no other choice. But eventually, I had to face the truth—he wasn’t powerless and chose this willingly. To Benedict, I was nothing more than a distraction when Tylor wasn’t around, a pastime he could step on. My dignity and love were crushed beneath his feet. So, I decided he would taste the bitterness of unrequited love. I would make him fall for me and be haunted by me. If he refused to care about me now, I would make myself a thorn in his heart. While I was alive, I would be a constant, nagging pain. After my death, I would leave him utterly broken. I recorded three videos, preparing to leave Benedict a gift he would never forget.

In my last month alive, I set aside my pride. I tolerated Tylor’s blatant provocations, pretending not to notice. But she wasn’t planning to let me off so easily. One evening, I discovered razor blades hidden in my piano keys. When Benedict came home, he saw me shouting at the teary-eyed Tylor. “Did you really have to go this far?” he scolded, his voice sharp and cold. Silently, I raised my hand, showing him the blood dripping from my wrist. “Benedict! Don’t you know what she…” Before I could finish, Benedict’s gaze fell on Tylor, trembling in the corner with fearful eyes. His face twisted in anger. The next thing I knew, a sharp slap landed across my cheek. “If your hand’s injured, go to the hospital. Stop making a scene here! You really are just a piece of trash with no one to teach you any better!” Every ounce of pride and ambition I had built up in my life crumbled in that moment. The man I had once leaned on now mocked me with disdain. “If you can’t play piano, then don’t. It’s just a tool you use to fish for attention, anyway.” My desperate, hysterical questioning only made me look like a lunatic in his eyes. He scoffed, “How dare you compare yourself to Tylor? She plays piano because it’s her dream. You? You only do it for your pathetic vanity and self-interest.” Tylor picked up a glass of water, pouring it over her head before smashing the glass onto the floor. With her drenched face and trembling lips, she looked pitiful as she turned to me. “Kendra, I didn’t mean to… Is this enough for you?” Benedict immediately rushed to her side, cradling her in his arms as he led her away to change clothes. Before leaving, he threw a cold glance my way. “Kendra, Tylor is like a sister to me. Watch yourself.” His gaze lingered on my bleeding hand, softening for just a second. Tylor seemed to notice this change. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she collapsed dramatically into Benedict’s arms. “Tylor!” he shouted, his voice panicked. Without another word, he carried her away. That extinguished the last flicker of hope in my heart. Left alone, I hailed a cab and went to the hospital to get my wounds treated.

I sent all the pre-recorded videos to my brother, who knew about my diagnosis and was fully aware of my plan. Ours was a family devoid of warmth. Raised under my father’s influence, my brother had always resented me, blaming me for our mother’s death during childbirth. “Kendra, your cancer is karma. You should’ve paid with your life for my mom a long time ago.” That was his first response upon hearing the news. I promised him the company, and he promised to play my videos at my funeral. My phone screen blinked on and off, and the messages came in nonstop. They were from Benedict, his location pinging from abroad. [Kendra, don’t worry. I’ll make it back for the family dinner tomorrow.] [You’re not mad, are you?] [Kendra, you have to understand. Tylor threatened suicide. I couldn’t just ignore her.] [She’s a living person! What kind of man would I be to let her die?] Each new message brought a numbing sensation to my lips and drained the strength from my limbs. As the screen filled with more notifications, I lost consciousness. When I collapsed to the ground, my final question lingered in my fading mind. Benedict, I just wondered how miserable your end would be. My soul detached from my body. I floated above, staring down at my pale face and lifeless body sprawled across the floor. Perhaps my unfulfilled rage moved the heavens, granting me this chance to witness their inevitable downfall. My phone, now running on its last bar of battery, showed over 99 unread messages. The final one from Benedict popped up: [Kendra, stop causing a scene. I might be late from the airport. Wait for me at Gabor Estate.] I let out a cold laugh and willed my consciousness to Gabor Estate, ready to watch the drama unfold. Soon, Benedict arrived in a rush, his tie crooked, his breaths uneven as he stormed into the estate. “Grandfather, where’s Kendra? I need to speak with her privately,” he asked. Anton’s furrowed brows deepened at his grandson’s frantic demeanor. “Benny! Must you always act so recklessly? And you’d better rein in Tylor’s antics from now on. Our family isn’t yet free from relying on Kendra’s family’s support. “If it hadn’t been for Tylor’s tantrums about studying piano abroad and your secret misuse of company funds, the company wouldn’t have ended up in such a dire situation. You can’t afford to push Kendra away. Watch your temper!” Benedict’s expression twisted, a mix of annoyance and frustration darkening his features. “Grandfather, is this really the time to bring that up? If Kendra hears about this, everything will be ruined!” A pang of bitterness coursed through me. So, the financial crisis I nearly died trying to save them from was Tylor’s doing. Benedict’s past kindnesses were never about love; they were about greed, about using me to revive his failing company. “What?” Anton asked, confused by Benedict’s accusatory tone. Benedict froze for a moment, his composure cracking. “She… hasn’t arrived yet?” He sighed, pulling out his phone. He dialed my number over and over, but no one picked up. By the time he had called three times with no answer, panic began to creep into his expression. “Pick up, Kendra! Answer the phone!” He started pacing, frustration boiling over as he stomped his feet in agitation. Anton suggested they sit down, reminding him that the family dinner couldn’t be delayed since everyone was already present. Benedict reluctantly took his seat at the table, but no sooner had he settled than his phone rang. Excitement lit up his face, only to be replaced by confusion and unease as he listened to the voice on the other end. It was my brother, Victor. “Benedict, make sure to attend Kendra’s funeral tomorrow.”

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I was about to get engaged, and my boyfriend suggested we visit a nearby nail salon. However, when it was time to pay, I was told the bill was thirty thousand dollars. I asked the staff if there was a mistake since I hadn’t agreed to sign up for any membership. “That’s the price. You’re so rich; what’s the big deal about paying it?” she replied smugly. Holding back my anger, I demanded to speak with the manager. But before I could finish, my boyfriend cut in, looking annoyed. “You make millions of dollars a year. Why are you giving this poor girl a hard time? Stop embarrassing yourself.” I could not believe what I heard. I went home, packed all his belongings, and threw them out the door. “My money didn’t fall out of the sky! Goodbye. You jerk! Go with your nail salon girl!” With our engagement photos scheduled for next week, I decided to get my nails done. While browsing online for recommendations, my boyfriend, Orson Hawke, leaned over and suggested a new nail salon in our neighborhood. “The place looks nice. Why don’t I go with you to check it out?” It was rare for him to offer, so I happily agreed. When we arrived at the salon, I noticed a sign on the door: [Grand Opening! Membership Discounts Available!] A young woman who looked like she hadn’t even finished high school greeted me enthusiastically. “Hey, gorgeous! What kind of nails are we doing today?” I glanced at her name tag: Vivienne Grey. Turning around, I saw that Orson hadn’t come inside; he was standing outside, busy on a phone call. I sat down and told her, “Just a simple color manicure.” She gave me a quick once-over, then peered out the door at Orson. “Are you getting married soon? Why not get a fancy manicure?” “Just burgundy,” I replied. She didn’t press further and started working on my nails, trimming and shaping them. But after she had only trimmed two nails, I winced in pain. I suspected that Vivienne might be a trainee; her technique was rough and unrefined. “Could you be a little gentler? That hurt,” I said. “Your natural nails are so ugly I have to fix them properly. Otherwise, they’ll ruin the polish,” she replied loudly, making the other employees glance over. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, feeling a bit offended. I quickly requested a different technician. But as I tried to withdraw my hand, Vivienne held it tightly, smiling as she looked up at me. “I’m the only one here. No one else is available. “By the way, we’re running a promotion: top up one thousand dollars and get five hundred dollars free. Interested in a membership?” I rolled my eyes and ignored her, instead texting my best friend, Eliana Baker: [This salon is a total scam.] After an hour, I stood up to pay. “That’ll be thirty thousand dollars. You can pay by card,” the cashier said casually. I froze. I thought, “Thirty thousand dollars for a solid-color manicure? Surely, it’s a mistake. Maybe Vivienne thought I wanted to buy a membership.” I turned to Vivienne for clarification. She rolled her eyes at me and walked straight to the register, dismissing the cashier. Crossing her arms, she looked at me smugly. “That’s right, thirty thousand dollars.” I stared at her in shock, thinking to myself, “Am I being scammed right now?”

I took a deep breath to compose myself. “I only got a basic solid-color manicure. How is that thirty thousand dollars? Please call your boss, and I’d like to speak with them.” I didn’t want to waste any more time arguing with this girl who looked barely out of her teens. I thought I had spoken politely enough, but Vivienne sneered. “If you have a problem, talk to me. My boss doesn’t have time for this.” Everyone else in the salon kept busy, showing no interest in getting involved. Before I could respond, Vivienne suddenly raised her voice. “Sure, it’s not the most expensive service, but that doesn’t mean you can just skip out on the bill! You look so respectable. How can you try to stiff us like this?” Her voice was so loud it drew the attention of the other customers. Even Orson, who was sitting at the door playing on his phone, walked over to check what was going on. I explained the situation to Orson and said to Vivienne, “I need to speak to her boss. This place is scamming me.” I glanced around the salon, but the other employees continued to mind their own business as if nothing was happening. Vivienne came out from behind the register and sidled up to Orson. “Handsome, how can you let your girlfriend act like this? Can’t you calm her down? She’s almost 30, throwing a tantrum over a manicure bill.” She leaned closer to Orson as she spoke, her behavior reminiscent of a cat in heat. The sight made me sick. “Your prices are shady, and you won’t let me speak to your boss?” Then I turned to Orson. “And do you think he’s on your side just because you’re being inappropriate? He’s my boyfriend.” I was sure Orson would take my side, but to my shock, he placed a hand on my shoulder to stop me. “Enough,” he said, his eyes showing a hint of disdain. “Just pay the bill, and let’s leave. There’s no need to make a scene.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I thought, “I’m the one being ripped off here. Why should I pay? As a consumer, is it shameful to stand up for my rights in a situation like this?” “No way! I refuse to accept this price. I need to talk to their boss to find out how this charge was determined,” I said firmly. Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Vivienne’s eyes reddened, and tears began streaming down her face. She wiped them away stubbornly and looked at Orson. “Why do you have to make things so hard for me? I’m just a staff…” The more she spoke, the more tears she shed; it seemed like she was performing in some tragic drama. I turned to Orson, hoping he’d finally see reason. “Do you really think this price is fair? Do you also think this is my fault?”

Vivienne stood there with an innocent, pitiful look, as if she had suffered some great injustice. I was speechless. “All I asked was to speak to your boss. When did I ever make things difficult for you?” She had the face of someone clever, but she couldn’t seem to understand plain words. Orson, on the other hand, looked genuinely distressed by Vivienne’s apparent misery. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he pulled out his card. “Stop making this hard for her. Fine, I’ll pay. Happy now?” I tried to snatch his card but he dodged me. “Making things hard for her? What do you mean by that, Orson? This is thirty thousand dollars, not three thousand! No one is paying anything!” I snapped. “I want a reasonable explanation for this price today. If she can extort me like this, how many other people will she scam in the future?” Besides, if I really paid the money, I’d basically be admitting that I was trying to cheat her out of it in the first place. Orson was never like this. I felt there was something off about him today. “Adalyn, what’s gotten into you today?” he asked, his tone annoyed. I glared at him, stunned that my boyfriend was siding with someone else. “Don’t be mad, handsome. I’ll just take the blame for today’s incident,” Vivienne said tearfully. “I’ll pay for this myself, okay? Sure, I’m just a poor working girl, so I deserve to be cheated out of my time, right?” Vivienne practically shouted that last part at me. Her loud voice attracted more onlookers, who began to surround us and chatter among themselves. “She’s dressed so well. Does she really look like someone who can’t afford it?” “Some people these days, I tell you…” “Just pay already. Look how upset you’ve made that poor girl.” “That girl worked on her nails for over an hour. How can she say something so heartless?” Soon, even two middle-aged women were scolding me, saying I had no manners and no decency. I couldn’t believe it. I thought, “Is money so easy to earn these days? Thirty thousand dollars for a manicure, and no one even bats an eye?” When I noticed someone at the door filming with their phone, I realized that if I didn’t resolve this properly, it might blow up online. I took a deep breath and addressed Vivienne, who was still crying. “I’m not trying to make things difficult for you, nor am I refusing to pay. I just want to understand the pricing for this manicure. “As a consumer, it’s not wrong to protect my rights, is it? “You keep accusing me of trying to skip out on the bill. Frankly, I think you’re the one acting in bad faith.” At some point, Vivienne had moved to stand next to Orson. Still crying, she said in a trembling voice, “Handsome, do you think I did anything wrong? “I worked so hard for over an hour, and now I’m being bullied… Just because she’s a white-collar worker, she thinks she’s above people like me?” I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw the back of my skull. As more and more people gathered around, Orson’s face showed increasing impatience. He shoved me aside and said, “Enough already. Why are you causing such a scene? “You make millions of dollars a year, and you’re yelling over such a small amount? Aren’t you embarrassed?” The onlookers, emboldened by Orson’s attitude, began to attack me verbally even more. I was furious. “Exactly. Why make life hard for a young girl? If you’re broke, why even bother getting your nails done?” “I don’t understand young people these days, and they just love taking advantage of others.” I thought, “It’s bad enough that strangers aren’t on my side. But why is Orson siding with her, too?” Seeing Vivienne’s tear-streaked face, her smugness barely hidden beneath it, I wanted to slap her. But logic held me back. “My money doesn’t fall from the sky! Is it so wrong for me to ask for the breakdown of this bill? You just open your mouth and tell me to pay, but whose boyfriend are you supposed to be, exactly?” Orson reached out, trying to drag me out of the store, but I shook off his hand. Just then, one of the women in the crowd muttered under her breath, “Make millions of dollars a year, but she wants to skip out on an 89.9-dollar manicure? She shouldn’t bother next time.” Her words made me freeze. I turned and asked, “Did you say a solid-color manicure costs 89.9 dollars?” Vivienne, now visibly panicked, raised her voice. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore! Forget the money; just leave, okay? I’ll take the loss for today. Is that enough?” Her words made her intentions crystal clear. Vivienne’s expression turned sour as she stepped forward, seemingly trying to grab me. I shook her off immediately. When I refused to leave, she turned to Orson, her face pitiful once more. “Fine, handsome. I won’t take the money. Just get her out of here so I can go back to work, okay?” “Let’s go,” Orson urged me. “She’s not taking the money. Let’s not drag this out anymore.” But what Orson said wasn’t right. If I left now, it would look like I was guilty of what they were accusing me of. If the person who was recording at the door had posted that video, I would have been doxxed and harassed online.

The more I thought about how quickly Vivienne’s attitude had changed, the more suspicious I became. “That woman just now said a solid-color manicure is 89.9 dollars. So why were you charging me thirty thousand dollars?” I held up my hands for everyone to see. “This is the most basic design, no embellishments, nothing extra. And I didn’t sign up for a membership. “So what’s the extra charge for? “If your shop sets that price for everyone, fine. But why is it 89.90 dollars for others and thirty thousand dollars for me?” Everyone stared at my nails in silence, saying nothing. I continued, “Are your hands so special, or did you think I’d be an easy mark? If you can’t explain this, I’ll report your shop immediately!” Orson tried again to pull me away, but I blocked him and warned in a low voice, “Don’t touch me.” Vivienne’s expression shifted; gone was her pitiful demeanor. “You’re lying!” she shouted. “I never said thirty thousand dollars! “You’re just making excuses because you don’t want to pay. And you kept insisting on speaking to my manager.” I almost laughed out loud. “Wow, this girl is good at twisting things,” I thought. I turned to Orson and asked, “You heard her earlier? How much did she say it was?” I knew he thought I was being embarrassing right now, but he had also heard Vivienne’s claim earlier. To my shock, he said, “I don’t know.” The crowd erupted in murmurs again. “What’s going on here?” “Is this girl trying to scam someone?” I remembered the cashier from earlier but couldn’t see him anywhere. Pulling out my phone, I prepared to call the police. “Do you really have to make such a big deal out of this?” Orson stepped in again. “She’s just a young girl working hard to make a living.” I sneered at him, “If she really understood how hard life is, she wouldn’t be pulling a stunt like this! Yes, I’m going to make a big deal out of it. “Let everyone see how this shop cheats its customers! I thought, “If we can’t resolve this here, I’ll take it to law enforcement!”

After I made the call, Orson completely lost it. He snatched my phone and threw it to the ground. “Adalyn Creed! What the hell are you doing? Are you out of your mind!?” I froze, stunned by his outburst. I knew Orson cared a lot about appearances, but his behavior today was unusually erratic. Calmly, I started piecing things together. He was the one who brought me to this salon, and his words had consistently supported Vivienne. And now, he was panicking because I had called the police. “Is Orson hiding something from me?” I wondered. I turned to him and asked directly, “Are you two working together to scam me?” The room went silent. “Vivienne, you’d better come clean before the police get here,” someone chimed in. “Are you two really in on this together?” “Girl, I’m with you. Let’s wait for the cops!” Vivienne, overwhelmed by the speculation, finally snapped and started screaming. “Fine! Talk about me if you want, but why drag him into it? Okay, maybe I made a mistake with the bill. Happy now? “I don’t even want the money anymore! It’s all my fault. Is that enough for you?” Crying, she tore off her work jacket and ran out the door. “Vivi!” Orson glared at me, grabbed her jacket from the floor, and ran after her. I stood there awkwardly, watching my boyfriend chase after another woman. “Wait, was that girl your boyfriend’s or yours?” someone asked. “What kind of shop is this? It’s terrifying.” “People always say big shops scam customers, but even new ones are pulling this crap?” Amid the chatter, the cashier from earlier reappeared. Everyone turned to him with questions. “Vivienne said the customer wanted to sign up for a membership,” he explained. I thought, “Oh, so that’s it! Vivienne was trying to pocket the difference.” Looking at the two of them, now long gone, I realized something wasn’t adding up. Just then, the police arrived. I stepped outside to look for Orson, only to find him with Vivienne under a tree near the shop, cozying up. Orson was holding her in his arms, gently kissing her hair and whispering something I couldn’t hear. I pulled out my phone and recorded a short video. Then I went back into the shop, grabbed my water bottle, and returned outside. Walking straight up to them, I poured the water over their faces. “Are you insane? What’s your problem!?” Orson shouted. Looking at the disheveled Vivienne, I smirked, “Had enough sneaking around? Good. The police are here.”

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My childhood friend Richard Davis complained about the stress of grad school applications, sweet-talking me into being intimate with him. Afterward, he couldn’t get enough, pursuing me relentlessly for an entire year. Finding him too unromantic, I teased with a smile, “When chasing a girl, remember to bring flowers.” He kept kissing me, murmuring his agreement. Then came the day when Alicia Tate, the department beauty, confessed to him. Richard asked to meet me. “Help me pick out some flowers later. You girls usually have similar tastes. Whatever you choose, I’m sure Alicia will love it.” So, he did know that confessions should start with a bouquet. When Richard told me he’d accepted Alicia’s confession, it felt like all the air around me froze. When he mentioned Alicia, he couldn’t hide the smile spreading across his face. In all our years together, I’d never seen that expression on him before. I mumbled random responses, afraid that if I said too much, he’d notice something off in my voice. “Janet, are you about to cry?” He asked teasingly, raising his voice playfully. My hands trembled as I gripped the hem of my shirt. Richard knew me too well. He could pick up on my emotions from even the slightest change in expression. I couldn’t lie to him, but I still tried to put up a front. “I’m just tired from all the stress lately.” “Perfect timing then. Help me pick out some flowers. It’ll help you unwind.” When he said “unwind”, I couldn’t help but feel a pang in my heart. Richard always used this same excuse to coax me into bed. The excitement in his voice was unmistakable. “You’re both girls, and you picked it out. Alicia’s bound to love it.” Alicia was our department’s beauty queen, gorgeous and pursued by many admirers. But I never knew Richard had feelings for her, too. And where did that leave me… “Richard, what about me?” I asked, biting my lip. He fell silent for a few seconds, his face darkening. When he finally spoke, his expression was dead serious. “Janet, don’t tell me you’re taking this seriously. You’re just a childhood friend. Some things are just about mutual benefit, aren’t they?” His tone was calm, but each word cut like a knife. I’d taught him to give flowers when dating girls. In the past, he could never seem to remember. “You never need to teach those who truly want to learn,” as they say. He tucked my stray hair behind my ear with a mischievous smile. “You’ve lived in my home for so many years. Everyone sees you just like my little sister. Who could accept being with their sister? If I did that, what kind of person would that make me?” His words hit me like a bucket of ice water, leaving me frozen to the core. I stared at the ground, fighting back tears. “Finals are coming up. I need to get back to my practice problems.” With that, I rushed back to my dorm.

I thought Richard saw me as his girlfriend. We rode Ferris wheels together and watched sunsets. He took me to see the Northern Lights. He’d kiss me passionately just as the sun rose. He’d make all those romantic promises. Richard said I was like a sister to him. Yet every time we spent the night together, in those intimate moments, he’d call me his wife. Turns out, in Richard’s eyes, it was all just a game. From start to finish, I was the only one who fell deep. The phone ringing snapped me out of my thoughts. “Janet, have you been crying?” My aunt, Yvonne Watson, could hear something was wrong. I pulled myself back from the memories. My reflection showed tears streaking down my face, and I quickly wiped them away. “Just stressed lately and coming down with a cold.” She finally let out a sigh of relief. “Don’t forget to take your medicine, and if you’re really not feeling well, have Richard take you to the hospital.” I nodded along to everything she said. Mentioning Richard made Yvonne seem to remember something. “Oh right, Janet, have you told him about going abroad after your exams next month? He won’t try to stop you from leaving again, will he?” The year my parents passed away, Yvonne had planned to take me abroad, but Richard had grabbed my sleeve, begging me to stay. He said his house had many rooms, and I could live in any of them. His home would be my home, and he would be my family. Those words touched me deeply, and I turned down Yvonne’s offer. Now, thinking about my future, Yvonne has invited me again to develop my career overseas with her. I had planned to tell Richard about this today. I’d even written a whole page of explanation a week ago. I was planning to give it to him today. “Don’t worry, Aunt Yvonne, we’ve grown up now. We won’t be as stubborn as we were when we were kids.” “What about you, Janet? Will you miss him?” Whenever I chat with Yvonne, I somehow always end up mentioning Richard. How could she not understand the look of a young girl’s first love? After spending so many years abroad and with relatives keeping their distance from me, an orphan, this departure would likely be permanent. The thought that time heals all wounds brought me peace. “I’ve already contacted a renowned artist overseas to teach me. Besides studying, I just want to spend time by your side.”

While I was doing practice problems, my roommate Emily Walker suddenly exclaimed, “Janet, quick, look at this!” Before I could react, her phone screen was right in front of my eyes. In the video, Richard was down on one knee, holding flowers. “How could I let a girl make the first move? Alicia, will you be my girlfriend?” His nervous, bashful demeanor made everyone around him squeal with delight, calling him a true romantic. Yet just last night, he’d asked me out for dinner, pinned me against the hotel room door for a deep kiss, and promised to bring me flowers. Looking back now, those were just empty promises made in the afterglow of satisfaction. “Man, I really thought Richard was into you,” Emily said. She pulled her chair next to mine, looking disappointed. “He always invited you everywhere he went, got you gifts for holidays and birthdays. Now you’re telling me I shipped the wrong couple?” I forced a smile, fighting back tears that threatened to fall. I dug my fingernails into my palm. Maybe if it hurt enough physically, my heart wouldn’t ache so much. That evening at the cafeteria, I ran into the new couple holding hands. I instinctively lowered my head, wanting to get away from them as quickly as possible. “Janet, why are you in such a rush?” Richard grabbed my collar and pulled me back. “Why didn’t you respond to my message this afternoon? I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” He looked incredibly handsome today, not a hair out of place, his eyes lighting up when he looked at the girl beside him. “This is my girlfriend, Alicia. Say hello.” Over the years, I’d grown used to him introducing me to others as his non-blood-related sister, but this time I couldn’t bring myself to speak. When I didn’t respond, Richard suddenly reached out and pinched my cheek. “What are you spacing out for? Making your big brother lose face?” Our eyes met, and he saw the humiliated tears in mine. Richard’s hand froze, and his gaze turned uncertain. It reminded me of back then, when a classmate from the next class confessed to me, and I didn’t know how to respond. Richard had just returned from basketball practice and, seeing the scene came over and squeezed my cheek, his hand resting on my neck. What did he say back then? “What are you spacing out for, Janet? Need me to reject him for you?” The guy asked Richard what right he had to decide for me, what business was it of his. “What business?” he chuckled softly. “We live together. I’ve got plenty of pictures of Janet drooling in her sleep, want to see?” That night, after chasing the guy away, Richard used to study as an excuse to pin me down and kiss me all night. Playing with the necklace at my throat, he whispered a warning in my ear, “Janet, we grew up together. I won’t let you get distracted from me.”

“Come on, Richard, we’re all classmates here. No need to be so serious!” Alicia tugged at his sleeve. Richard finally relaxed, letting out a deep breath. “I got too worked up. It’s fine. It’ll get better once you two get to know each other.” I pressed my lips together, gripping my lunch box tighter. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back first.” In my heart, I thought, “Richard, there won’t be a next time.” Alicia’s voice came from behind me. “Hey, come do karaoke with us later! It’s Richard’s treat. You’re his sister. It wouldn’t look right if you didn’t come.” I thought Alicia had invited me because she wanted to get to know Richard better. But I’d been naive to think it was that simple. Richard was chatting with others while Alicia sat down next to me. She’d been overly friendly to me since the moment we entered the karaoke room. “Janet, I heard you and Richard grew up together. You two would make such a gorgeous couple. How come you never got together?” She had her arm linked through mine, making it impossible for me to dodge the question. “Richard only sees me as a sister. He’d never be with someone he thinks of that way.” I wanted to ease Alicia’s concerns. After all, they’d just started dating, and both lacked the security that comes with trust. But she pressed on with a provocative tone. “So what you’re saying is you’ve got unrequited feelings for my boyfriend?” “No, that’s not…” I opened my mouth but couldn’t find the words to defend myself. “Richard, that necklace looks really nice on you.” Richard was sitting next to Alicia, handing her a piece of fruit. “Oh, my parents gave it to me when I was little. Said it would keep me safe.” “Do you like it?” Alicia stopped him as he started to take it off, snuggling against him with exaggerated sweetness. “I just noticed Janet’s looks like a matching couple’s set with yours. But whatever, I guess she wears it every day because she likes you…” Richard looked at me, his eyes fixed on my neck. “Janet, give me your necklace.” Before I could react, he reached for it. “We’re all family here. Since Alicia likes it, consider it your welcome gift to her.” I instinctively backed away, dodging his reaching hand. He froze for a moment. Then anger flashed in his eyes. “Being disobedient, are we? Don’t forget, this belongs to our family. I have the right to take it back.” The chatter around us suddenly stopped as everyone turned to stare at me. “Richard, what are you saying? Don’t you remember? You got that necklace when Janet had a three-day high fever! You were crying, begging your parents to take you to get it for her.” The person who spoke up was a friend who’d grown up with us. Richard seemed to come to his senses suddenly and instinctively pulled his hand back. “I just thought since we’re all grown up now, we don’t need its protection to be okay anymore. Never mind… I was wrong. If you like it, keep it.” “No need. I’ll give it back to you right now.” I pulled off the safety necklace from my neck. “Now, I don’t owe you anything anymore.” He stared at the necklace in his hand, frozen in place.

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I spent ten years devoted to Nolan, choosing to stay in this world for him. But in the third year of our marriage, he started an affair with a young, beautiful actress. He pampered her excessively, almost cradling her in his arms all day. His parents knew, his brothers knew, and they all conspired to keep it from me. Everyone believed Nolan loved me as if his life depended on it, and would go mad if I disappeared for even a moment. Now, as the man beside me happily discusses the plans for our seventh wedding anniversary celebration, I realize it’s time for me to go. Quietly, I activated a long-unused system and initiated a countdown to my staged death. The date was set for our seventh anniversary. I looked at the anniversary gift box sent by the actress—inside was a USB drive with over 100GB of their intimate videos and photos of her with his family. I felt a bitter taste in my mouth, yet no tears came. Everyone knew Nolan was having an affair, yet they all helped him hide it from me. They knew I was his Achilles’ heel, and if I vanished for an hour, he’d lose his mind. So, on the day I discovered his infidelity, I did three things to break him. First, I gave away the 9 pounds of gold jewelry and the $30 million diamond necklace he had gifted me to a beggar. Second, I saved the provocative messages and 100GB of intimate videos Celeste had sent me onto the USB drive. Third, I activated the system again and arranged a fake death, with the date set for our seventh anniversary. On that day, I plan to leave this world entirely, leaving only a body behind. Never to meet again for all eternity. Three days before the anniversary, Nolan was still oblivious to my plans to leave and continued discussing the details of the anniversary banquet. He even drove me to a luxury boutique in Capital City, photographing all the latest necklaces. Then, I saw a woman in a purple dress walk in—it was Celeste. She ran over to Nolan, clinging to his arm and coyly thanked Mr. Nolan for boosting her jewelry endorsement. The staff exchanged awkward glances between the two. “This actress is really bold, sticking so close to Mr. Nolan.” “Well, I heard her sugar daddy is very powerful, and this jewelry brand is just a stepping stone for her fame.” My face turned pale, and I bit my lip hard to maintain my composure. I tried to act as though I hadn’t noticed, but Celeste’s flirtatious gaze and the scent of her hair brushed past Nolan’s nose. She shamelessly draped her arms over his shoulder under the guise of showing the jewelry. My heart ached, and I could only turn my head away to mask my distress. I was completely unfocused during the rest of the showcase until a piece of jewelry with 99 diamonds set in amethyst appeared. My eyes trembled slightly; it was a relic my mother left me before she passed, auctioned off years ago to pay Nolan’s debts, and I never expected it to be here. Nolan, seeing my interest, was ready to buy it without hesitation. Before he could speak, a soft voice chimed in from beside me. “Mr. Nolan, this necklace is so ugly. Why not let me reluctantly buy it for my pup?” I looked over abruptly, breathing heavily. The woman just gave me a provocative glance. Nolan’s face was displeased, his gaze warning her. The woman didn’t seem to care and grabbed him to stand up, going off to choose jewelry to show him. Celeste pretended to need help, raising her hands for Nolan to put jewelry on her. They were very close, practically no gap between their bodies. I saw Nolan’s expression was impatient, but his breathing quickened. Nolan knew there was something ambiguous between them and noticed my silence on the sofa, panicking as he shook off the woman’s hand to run over to me. Celeste almost stumbled when released, looking over with teary eyes after being steadied. I saw the man’s anxious face, then a hint of annoyance, followed by a deep breath as he pretended to be relaxed, pulling me into his arms. He asked, “Wife, how about I buy this set of jewelry for you? It would look great on you.” Exhausted, I nodded and agreed. At that moment, the woman’s eyes filled with tears, pouting and stomping her foot before glaring at me and running out of the room. Once she left, Nolan’s expression turned gloomy, his long legs constantly shifting, showing impatience. Soon he found an excuse to go out for a smoke. I gestured for everyone to leave, tears flowing like a fountain. Half an hour later, Nolan hadn’t returned. I got up and went to the restroom, and as soon as I entered, I heard familiar voices. It was Nolan! I covered my mouth tightly, masochistically listening to the sound of the woman crying and Nolan’s comforting voice inside. After a while, the sound of kissing and intimate noises echoed through the restroom. Unable to bear it any longer, I quickly fled the scene. I sat in the empty room, clutching my heart, crying out loud. When the two returned, it was two hours later. Nolan had a satisfied smile on his face. “Wife, diamonds are tacky. How about I get you a unique gift next time?” Celeste walked over, and I saw the relic my mother left now tied around the woman’s ankle. My mind went blank for a moment as she fiddled with it, her eyes filled with mockery and ridicule. “Mrs. Nolan, Mr. Nolan gave me this necklace. Does it look good?” Nolan’s face turned pale, glaring at her in warning, holding my hand to explain. “It’s just to thank her for the endorsement.” I acted like I believed him and turned to leave. He watched my figure disappear from sight, then suddenly grabbed Celeste’s wrist, his expression dangerous. “You’re crazy! I told you if you dared to appear in front of Sophie, we’d be done!” The woman pouted, acting coquettishly, “Alright, I know I was wrong.”

That night, as expected, he didn’t return until late. Leaving only a message: “Wife, I have to handle some company business. Go to sleep without waiting for me.” Expressionless, I stood there, watching the man who claimed to be going to work overtime at the company appear on the trending topic with Celeste. On the trending topic, #Celeste with Mystery Boyfriend at Hotel!, the words felt like a slap in the face. Then Celeste sent a photo of the man coming out of the bathroom. “Men like young bodies. Who would stay with an old wife?” I was exhausted, numbly packing everything. Since I decided to fake my death and disappear, I wanted everything about me in this world to vanish too. The next day, the man finally appeared, burying himself in my arms, talking about how much he missed me. “Wife, I missed you so much after not seeing you for a night.” A cold smile appeared on my lips; if I hadn’t seen Celeste’s provocative photos not long ago, I might have been swayed by his acting. Juggling new and old loves, Nolan, you’re quite the actor. He looked around, his tone curious. “Wife, why is all your stuff in the villa gone?” I pushed him away and went upstairs. “Nothing, just didn’t want it anymore.” His heart tightened, his gaze flickering, a bad feeling rising in his mind. He instinctively wanted to say something but finally stayed silent. I stood upstairs, listening to the man’s questioning voice over the phone. “Who orchestrated the trending topic? Don’t you know Sophie is my weakness?” The woman on the other end pretended to cry twice. “Sorry, I just love you too much!” The man’s expression softened suddenly. “Don’t let it happen again!” “Okay, I’ll finish shooting tomorrow night, Orange Hotel 3603, are you coming?” The man’s eyes darkened, breathing heavily, and he said fiercely, “Little thing, you wait for me!” After hanging up the phone, he turned to see my figure on the stairs, forcing a stiff smile. Perhaps feeling guilty, he had people refill the villa with my things. I didn’t question or expose him; my heart no longer stirred.

The next day, I told Nolan, “Come with me to visit my parents’ grave today.” His expression flashed with discomfort. “Isn’t it not the anniversary of your parents’ death? Why go now?” Thinking of my parents, my heart ached. I was about to leave this world and wanted to see them one last time before I left. I looked up. “No reason, I just miss them.” “Okay.” It was sunny before we left, but the temperature dropped and it started raining when we reached the cemetery. Looking at the photos on the gravestones, I couldn’t help but cry, my heart filled with desolation. Suddenly, Nolan’s phone beeped with a message. His face changed after reading it. I looked at his troubled face, puzzled, and opened my phone. As soon as I did, a provocative message from Celeste came through. “Sophie, aren’t you just relying on Nolan’s love? I’ll show you who he really cares about. I advise you to leave on your own before you’re kicked out.” I chuckled, replying to her for the first time, “Dirty things aren’t wanted by everyone. You can have him.” I saw the man suddenly run off, leaving only a curt message: “Something came up at the company, I’ll come get you as soon as I’m done.” He never came even as night fell, leaving me alone in the eerie darkness of the cemetery. I glanced at his unappealing face, confused, as I unlocked my phone. Just then, Celeste’s taunting message lit up the screen again. “Sophie, you’re just leaning on Brother Nolan’s affection, aren’t you? Watch as I show you who’s truly in his heart. My advice? Leave on your own so you won’t be disgracefully sent packing later.” I chuckled softly and replied to her for the first time, “Who wants something dirty? You’re welcome to him.” I watched as he suddenly dashed off, leaving behind a terse message: “Something came up at work. I’ll pick you up as soon as I’m done.” But he never showed up, leaving me alone in the eerie darkness of the cemetery. The rain poured harder as I huddled in front of my parents’ graves, eventually falling asleep. As dawn broke, Celeste sent a few photos. One was a trending topic about Celeste’s safety harness breaking and her falling from a great height! Another showed her with minor bruises, being held tightly by Nolan, who was sobbing uncontrollably. Then Celeste sent a video. In it, she revealed bruises on her body, while a man slept soundly with his arm around her waist. On the floor were several used pills and scattered clothes. “You’ve lost. His heart belongs to me now.” I calmly accessed the system, applying to leave this world behind. The system sighed. “Host, everything is prepared. The information records and USB drive will be delivered at the seventh wedding anniversary banquet.” “You’ve worked hard over the years. Once you depart from this world, you’ll assume a brand-new identity, fulfilling all your wishes. A loving family, parents from this world, close friends, and a partner who will never betray you, courtesy of the system.” “From this moment on, you will no longer exist in this world.” I nodded. Nolan, I said if you ever betrayed me, I would vanish forever. I’ll ensure you understand the price of your deceit and betrayal over the years. I felt my soul leave my body, ready to embrace a new beginning. Nolan, From now on, you’ll never see me again.

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