My husband Ezra and I decided to use our vacation time to travel to Canada and visit my parents on the way back. Little did I know that on the first day in Canada, we’d have a major fight over our itinerary. I was so angry that I started arguing with him on the street. He tried to appease me by offering to take me out for a fancy dinner. When I got back to the hotel, I found he had left with all my luggage and phone, leaving just a note telling me to “reflect on my behavior”. I borrowed a phone to call him, but he didn’t answer. As I stood there in the freezing cold with the bitter wind whipping around me, I had an epiphany. This time, I won’t let you off the hook so easily. Just before Christmas this year, my husband and I made plans to take a trip to Canada first. Then we’d stop by my parents’ place in Alaska on the way back, before heading home for Christmas. Ezra and I were college classmates. I couldn’t wait to escape Alaska after 18 years, so I went to a southern city for college. We fell in love during our university years, and I married him without hesitation. Due to our busy work schedules, I hadn’t been back home in three years. I wanted to take this opportunity to visit my parents. At first, Ezra complained about how cold Canada would be in winter. “It’s crazy to go there in this weather,” he grumbled. I retorted, “In summer you say it’s too hot and the trip is too rushed. We’ve finally saved up enough vacation days, let’s just go and enjoy ourselves!” Ezra still looked displeased. Seeing his expression, I wrapped my arms around him and tried a softer approach: “Honey, consider this my treat. I’ll cover the expenses, you just relax and have fun!” Hearing this, Ezra’s furrowed brow relaxed and he nodded with feigned reluctance: “Alright then.” I excitedly started preparing for our Canada trip. Canada is cold, and neither of us had proper winter gear. Since we were going to visit my parents right after, I was in a good mood and even splurged on an expensive down Ezraet for Ezra, costing a few hundred dollars. As soon as our vacation started, we flew to Canada. Before I even had a chance to appreciate the scenery, Ezra and I got into an argument over the hotel room. Looking at the suite I had booked, Ezra’s face darkened: “What kind of room did you book with my money? A standard room would have been fine. Why waste money on all this fancy stuff?!” “You’re such a spendthrift!” he snapped. Hearing Ezra’s words, I immediately got fired up: “Ezra Wilson, what do you mean ‘your money’? I used my own money to book this suite. Why are you complaining? Isn’t the whole point of traveling to enjoy ourselves?” “By standard room, do you mean those tiny 50 square foot rooms with one bed for $80 a night? Those dirty places? I refuse to sleep there!” The mention of standard rooms made my blood boil. On our honeymoon, he had booked us into a cheap $80 motel that nearly drove me insane. We hadn’t traveled since then, and now that I was footing the bill for a nice hotel, he had the nerve to throw a tantrum and call me wasteful. I angrily tossed my luggage by the bed and flopped down to play on my phone. If he didn’t want to stay, he could leave. I’d enjoy it myself. Seeing that I’d called him out, Ezra’s face darkened for a moment. After calming down, he put on a smile and started sweet-talking me. I didn’t really want our trip ruined like this either, so after some coaxing I let it go. On our first full day exploring Canada, I went all out. It was my first time seeing so much snow, so I dragged Ezra around taking photos everywhere. During a break, Ezra took a phone call while I happily sorted through our photos. Even though my cheeks were frozen red, I didn’t care at all. Because of this, I failed to notice Ezra’s unhappy expression after he finished his call. Ezra and I had both joined the astronomy club in college. We’d made a promise to see the Northern Lights together someday. When I found out there would be an incredibly rare and massive aurora display in the coming nights, I specifically planned for us to go see it. Not only would it let us relive our youthful dreams, but it would also help us forget our recent squabbles. To my surprise, after I excitedly shared the evening’s plans while munching on some chocolate I’d just bought, Ezra’s face darkened again. He snapped impatiently: “If there really are Northern Lights, we can see them from anywhere. We don’t have to go tonight.” I was shocked. It had only been four years since we’d made that promise, and now he was so impatient about it? “Honey, this aurora is really special. Let’s go see the most spectacular display together. Wasn’t that our promise back then?” I tried appealing to our shared memories. But Ezra exploded in anger: “Eloise, are you deaf? I said we’re not going, so we’re not going. Stop bringing up that old shit about our youth!” “I’m exhausted from following you around sightseeing these past few days. If you want to see the aurora so badly, go by yourself!”

His sudden outburst startled me. Ezra’s voice was so loud it drew stares from passersby. I’m not one to back down either, so I kicked a nearby bollard hard and yelled back: “Who the hell are you shouting at? Are you just trying to pick a fight with me?!” “We’ve only been out for two days and you’ve already fought with me twice. Is this how you want our marriage to be?!” Ezra glared at me fiercely, then stormed off, leaving me standing there alone. Watching his resolute back as he walked away, I couldn’t believe he’d start a fight with me in the middle of the street and then just abandon me. As I was on the verge of tears, a pair of hands appeared before me. It was Ezra. Seeing my red-rimmed eyes, he pulled me into an embrace and softened his tone: “I’m sorry, honey. It’s my fault.” “I’ve been too tired lately and it’s made me irritable. I apologize, it’s all my fault.” Seeing Ezra come back, my anger subsided a bit, but I wasn’t ready to let him off so easily. Noticing my expression soften slightly, Ezra pressed on: “Don’t be mad anymore, babe. I managed to get a reservation at that restaurant you love – the one you were saying last night was impossible to get into.” “You must be hungry after all this sightseeing. Let’s go eat now!” Right on cue, my stomach growled. Ezra struck a princely pose, as if inviting me to dinner, which made me laugh. The table was filled with all my favorite dishes, and my lingering resentment completely melted away. As I happily dug in, Ezra’s phone kept buzzing with incoming messages. He alternated between serving me food and replying to the messages. I glanced over and saw it seemed to be from his mother. “Is everything okay with your mom?” I asked. “Oh it’s nothing, she’s just asking how our trip is going,” he said, avoiding eye contact. I was too busy wolfing down my food to pay much attention, so I just nodded in response. Ever since I married into the family, my mother-in-law had always tried to control me. But my free-spirited nature refused to be tamed. After several fruitless arguments, she gave up and said our life was our own business. I don’t know what got into her today to make her start meddling again. “Honey, my mom needs some help with an online thing. Can I use your phone to help her out real quick?” Ezra asked. “Sure, go ahead,” I said carelessly. If I didn’t help his mom, she’d probably start nagging me again. “Alright, I’ll go pay the bill now. Take your time eating,” Ezra said, giving me a meaningful look before leaving with my permission. Half an hour later, Ezra still hadn’t returned. I’d finished eating and was confused. I walked out of the private room and the waiter smiled, saying, “Ma’am, your husband has already paid and left.” “Where did he go?” I asked. “He’s already gone,” the waiter replied. Gone? I instinctively reached for my phone to call him, only to remember I’d given it to Ezra. He’d left quietly with my phone. A sense of foreboding washed over me. I rushed back to the hotel. When I got there, I discovered Ezra had checked out of our room and taken all my luggage and phone with him. The receptionist said he’d left a message for me: “Take some time to reflect on your behavior.” Seeing the sympathetic look in the receptionist’s eyes, my scalp tingled and I felt a strange sense of humiliation bubbling up. So this is Ezra’s game. After our fight, he pretended to make up just to teach me a lesson like this. With shaking hands, I borrowed the receptionist’s phone to call him. He hung up immediately. Ezra was clearly doing this on purpose! After about a dozen attempts, Ezra blocked the number. My chest tightened and I felt suffocated by the intense shame. I wandered out of the hotel in a daze, acutely aware of the strange looks from others. No money, no phone, no passport. Ezra had cut off all my options, forcing me to admit I was wrong. I walked down the street with trembling arms wrapped around myself. The bitter wind whipped mercilessly, chilling me to the bone. I replayed every argument Ezra and I had over the past two days. He must have been fed up for a while. How thoughtful of him to go to such lengths to teach me a lesson. His methods were certainly more sophisticated than his mother’s. His mother? Damn it, she must have had a hand in planning this! No wonder that old lady kept messaging Ezra. She was coaching him on how to deal with me. The freezing wind felt like knives on my skin. In the subzero temperatures, I was still wearing the clothes I’d changed into at lunch. I was on the verge of hypothermia. My steps grew smaller and smaller as I pushed forward. I could feel my blood starting to slow. Spotting a police station just ahead, I forced myself to keep going. I finally collapsed at the entrance.

When I came to, a kind female officer was tucking blankets around me. I touched my face, which had been bright red from the cold before I passed out. Feeling my body temperature, I realized I was still alive and immediately burst into tears, drawing several officers over. After I choked out my story, the officer who had been caring for me started cursing under her breath: “How can there be such terrible men in this world? It’s minus 40 degrees out there – he took all your things and left you to freeze on the streets! What a scumbag.” “I was already hesitant about marriage, but hearing this makes me never want to get married,” she added. I sipped the hot tea they gave me as my body slowly warmed up. After contacting my parents, the two of them rushed to Canada as fast as they could. When I finally saw my parents appear before me, my barely contained emotions burst forth again. My loud sobs echoed through the police station, drawing sympathetic looks from everyone present. “That good-for-nothing bastard, how dare he abandon our daughter out in the cold and run off,” my dad fumed. “It’s freezing out there – he could have killed you!” he continued. “Just wait till I get my hands on that little punk,” he growled. My dad’s mouth hadn’t stopped cursing Ezra since we got in the car to go home. Even my mom, who usually tried to smooth things over, wasn’t saying anything nice this time. “Hmph, that little shit. How dare he mess with my baby girl,” she huffed. “Eloise, you didn’t even tell us you were coming back this time. If that jerk hadn’t done this to you, were you not planning to let us know at all?” my mom snapped. She was clearly upset that I hadn’t been home in three years, and even more furious that her daughter had been mistreated. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ve already told your uncle and cousins. If Ezra dares to show his face around here, we’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget,” my dad said. My dad only had one brother. For generations, our family had only had boys. My dad was the first to have a girl, so I became the precious baby of the family. When they found out I was marrying someone from the south, my uncle’s family was so disappointed. At the wedding, they even warned Ezra that if he ever mistreated me, they’d break his legs. We all thought it was just a joke at the time, but now it might actually come true. “I’m calling Ezra right now. Let’s see what he has to say for himself!” my dad said, pulling out his phone. Ezra picked up almost immediately: “Dad… what’s up?” I could hear Ezra trying to sound calm on the other end of the line. I wanted nothing more than to reach through the phone and tear him apart. “Oh nothing, I just tried calling Eloise’s phone but couldn’t get through. What’s going on? Why isn’t she answering?” my dad asked casually. “Ah… Eloise’s phone died,” Ezra stammered. “I see. You two must be home from work by now, right? Put Eloise on, I need to tell her something,” my dad pressed. “Uh… Eloise’s not home right now. She went out to buy something,” Ezra fumbled. As Ezra was desperately trying to come up with excuses, my dad rolled his eyes and handed me the phone. Controlling my shaking voice, I said: “Ezra, what the hell did I go out to buy?!” Hearing my voice, Ezra immediately panicked and started rambling incoherently, trying to explain himself. “Honey, listen, I didn’t mean to… Where are you? I’ll come find you,” he pleaded. “Just come to my parents’ house. I’ll be waiting,” my dad commanded, then hung up without waiting for Ezra’s response. When Ezra nervously showed up at my parents’ house, my dad immediately smashed the teapot Ezra had given him as a gift at his feet. Ezra had given my dad that teapot when he first came to meet my family, and my dad had really liked it. The scalding tea splashed near Ezra’s feet. He was still wearing the expensive down Ezraet I’d bought him and pulling our luggage. I had so eagerly prepared all our travel clothes, and now seeing that coat I’d spent a small fortune on, I just wanted to rip it to shreds. “You goddamn son of a bitch, do you know how cold it is outside?!” my dad roared. “You piece of shit took everything and left Eloise to freeze on the streets. You heartless bastard!” My dad’s face was red with rage. Terrified, Ezra fell to his knees. “Dad, I didn’t mean to. I was just a little upset with Eloise. I only wanted to scare her a bit. I didn’t think it would alarm you,” Ezra pleaded. Hearing Ezra’s words, I laughed bitterly. Scare me? He clearly didn’t care if I lived or died. “Give me Eloise’s phone right now!” my dad bellowed, making Ezra flinch. Ezra hurriedly pulled it out of his pocket. I quickly snatched it back. “You dare treat my daughter like this right under our noses. I can’t imagine how much she must suffer living with you!” my mom cried, berating him. “How has she suffered with us? We feed her well and take care of her every need. My mom asks her to do one little thing and she refuses,” Ezra snapped back. “If you ask me, it’s our family that’s been suffering. We married a disobedient daughter-in-law who only knows how to waste money. She bought me this ridiculously expensive coat – can you believe it?” Ezra stood up, pointing at his Ezraet with disdain. He’d given up all pretense now. “Suffering? What could your family possibly be suffering from? Is it because I refused to eat expired food your mom tried to feed me? Or because I didn’t agree when you two wanted us to buy a house for your brother?” I retorted. “This whole trip was paid for with my money!” “You think I care about the pittance you make each month? Ha!” I never imagined Ezra would air all his family’s dirty laundry in front of my parents. Since he had no shame left, why should I hold back? Ezra’s face turned red with anger. He raised his hand to slap me but was stopped by someone behind him. My uncle had arrived with my two tall, muscular cousins. They restrained Ezra as my older cousin glowered: “What were you about to do to my little sister?” There was a sickening crack, followed by Ezra’s agonized howls. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead from the pain. My uncle’s family owns a gym, and both my cousins are personal trainers. With just a bit of force, they’d dislocated Ezra’s wrist. “You’re assaulting me! I’ll sue you!” Ezra threatened through gritted teeth. “Go ahead and sue. You think we’re afraid of you?” I scoffed, looking down at the man writhing in pain before me. “Ezra Wilson, I’m telling you now – we’re getting divorced!” “This marriage is over!”

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On New Year’s Eve, my husband got into a fight with someone at a hotel while staying there with my college classmate, Gia. When the police called me to sign some paperwork and pay the fine, I found him comforting Gia, who was sobbing pitifully with tears streaming down her face. As soon as he saw me, a guilty smile tugged at his lips. “Gia’s building was evacuated due to an incident,” he said quickly, “I was just keeping her company.” If this had been in the past, I would’ve broken down, yelling and demanding answers. But tonight, I calmly signed the papers, paid the fine, and brought him out of the police station. Outside, he beamed at me, his face full of relief. “You’re the best, honey. I was so worried you’d be upset with me.” I forced a faint smile. What was there to be upset about? I didn’t love him anymore. Being angry seemed like a waste of energy. “Babe, the car’s parked outside the hotel. Drive us back,” Ewan said as we left the station. I had planned to head straight home after bailing him out, but he insisted on a detour. I didn’t bother questioning him. Instead, I nodded and turned toward the hotel. “You should drive, honey. I had a bit to drink,” he added as he climbed into the backseat. Gia followed suit, slipping in beside him. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I adjusted the mirror and caught sight of a pink sticker on the dashboard. A soft chuckle escaped me, bitter and dry. Since learning Ewan had taken Gia for rides in the passenger seat more times than I could count, I hadn’t set foot in his car. Now, seeing that the front seat had been personalized to suit her tastes, it was hard not to notice how comfortable she had become in claiming her territory. Following my gaze, Ewan flushed slightly and hurried to explain, “Oh, don’t mind that, babe. Gia’s still a kid at heart. You know how they are.” “A kid?” I said flatly, shifting into reverse. Funny how he conveniently forgot Gia and I had graduated the same year. Over the past three years, Ewan treated this car like a treasure, never letting me so much as adjust the air freshener without complaint. Yet, within a year, Gia could redecorate without a word of protest. I couldn’t help but admire her tactics. She had made herself at home so quickly it was almost impressive. Back when this mess started, it was during a dinner party. Gia had been lamenting her struggles at work, and out of some misguided sense of nostalgia for our college years, I asked Ewan to offer her a role as an intern. At first, he griped about her incompetence, calling it a waste of time. But as time went on, they became closer. His complaints lessened, replaced by casual compliments. By the time I caught on to what was happening, it was far too late. Take tonight, for example. He claimed he’d be away on a business trip, yet there he was, comforting Gia while the police waited for someone to pay the fine for his drunken brawl. He had punched a passerby, who was furious and called the police. They were both taken away, which led to what happened next. When I arrived, Ewan was even half-naked, yet he was still comforting Gia, who was crying uncontrollably. If it were in the past, I would have screamed and cursed him out loud. But today, I just signed the papers and bailed him out. Pretending to be indifferent, I asked, “Really? What accident?” Ewan thought for a while and then blurted out, “Uh… Gas leak. Otherwise, she wouldn’t end up in a hotel.” His lie made me sigh. I kept driving, and when we reached an intersection, Ewan seemed to remember something. “Let’s drop Gia off first,” he said. “She’s had a rough night.” I glanced at him through the rearview mirror, watching how his shoulder pressed against hers. Who knew what else they were doing out of sight? “I’m tired,” I replied evenly. “I’d rather head home. You two can figure it out from there.” Gia’s soft, simpering voice chimed in from the backseat. “It’s okay, Ewan. I don’t want to trouble Cici any more tonight. She’s already done so much.” Her tone, full of faux innocence, was enough to make my stomach churn. But Ewan, tipsy and evidently emboldened, snapped at me. “Cici, I told you to stop! Are you deaf?”

“Stop the car! Now!” He slammed a fist against the back of my seat, jolting me. My foot instinctively pressed the brake as I turned to glare at him in disbelief. Was he insane? Didn’t he know I was driving? Before I could scold him, Ewan stormed out of the backseat and yanked open my door. He unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled me out. “Ewan, what the hell?” The icy pavement caught my heel, and I slipped, landing hard on the frozen ground. My knee throbbed as it struck the edge of the curb. Ewan glanced down at me, his earlier guilt evaporating completely, replaced by pure irritation. “Cici, stop playing games. What’s the big deal about turning the car around? You’re just being petty because you have a problem with Gia, aren’t you? If you don’t want to drive, I will!” My knee throbbed from where it had slammed against the curb, and I grimaced, biting back the sharp words on the tip of my tongue. But before I could say anything, Ewan had already turned away and climbed into the driver’s seat. The car door slammed shut with a loud thud, and he didn’t spare me another glance. Gia stepped out of the backseat and slid into the passenger seat. As she passed me, she gave me a smug look and pretended to be apologetic. “Cici, are you okay? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen…” she murmured. “Gia! Get in the car. There’s no need to talk to her,” Ewan barked, his voice cutting through the icy air. Gia froze as she pretended to help me up. Then, she nodded obediently and slipped into the passenger seat. “Ewan! You’ve been drinking. You can’t drive!” I shouted, my voice rising in desperation. The only response was the rev of the engine as the car peeled away, disappearing into the night. Standing there in the biting cold, dressed too lightly for the weather, I couldn’t muster the energy to care whether Ewan got pulled over for drunk driving or not. It took me half an hour to flag down a cab, half an hour of shivering in the freezing wind. By the time I stepped through the front door of our apartment, my body was numb, and my heart felt as frozen as my hands. I couldn’t even shed a tear. A year had passed, and my passion for Ewan had died. Ewan was already home, lounging on the couch as if nothing had happened. “You said you were out of town for a business trip. Why did the police call me to pick you up from a fight?” I demanded, my voice colder than the wind outside. For a moment, he faltered, his expression slipping into unease before settling into a defensive scowl. “I told you already, didn’t I? Gia’s building had a gas leak, and they evacuated everyone. I didn’t want to stress you out, so I just said I was out of town. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” His deflection was so clumsy, so transparently false, that I didn’t even have the energy to argue. Instead, I waved him off and retreated to the bedroom, unwilling to waste my breath on another pointless fight. The next morning, I woke up to a fever burning through my body. Every inch of me ached, and my throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. Ewan noticed my pale face and furrowed brow, and for the first time in months, he seemed genuinely concerned. “Babe, I’m sorry about last night. You know how I get when I’ve had too much to drink. Are you okay? I’ll make you some soup,” he offered, his voice unusually soft. I stayed silent, pulling the blanket tighter around me. Just as he turned to leave the room, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. The screen lit up with Gia’s name, her caller ID photo smiling mockingly at me.

Ewan hesitated, his phone in hand, staring at the screen for a few moments before reluctantly answering. His face betrayed a flicker of hesitation as though he was torn between wanting to pacify me and the inopportune timing of Gia’s call ruining the fragile truce he’d been trying to build. I turned my head away, unwilling to be part of whatever excuse or justification he was about to make. Seeing my reaction, Ewan sighed and finally answered. “Hello?” “Hi, Ewan. Why didn’t you come to work today?” Gia’s sweet voice came through the receiver, making my stomach churn. Ewan glanced at me. It was as if he wanted to prove to me that he and Gia had nothing to hide. Instead of stepping away or lowering his voice, he replied as though he were dictating the conversation for my benefit. “Cici’s sick. I stayed home to take care of her.” There was a pause on the other end, followed by a delicate cough. “Oh no, really? It must’ve been from last night. The cold snap’s been brutal. I’m starting to feel under the weather too. Tell Cici to take care of herself, okay? And, um, Ewan, could you pick up some medicine for me on your way in?” “You’re sick too? What symptoms are you having?” After the call ended, Ewan became visibly distracted. Halfway through making soup, he gave up altogether. “Hey, I should head to the office and check on things,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel. “I’ll order some soup for you, and you can grab it from the door when it arrives.” “Got it,” I replied flatly, watching him hurriedly grab his coat. As he left, I felt a strange emptiness settle over me. I wasn’t heartbroken, but being weighed, found wanting, and discarded left a bitter taste in my mouth. Ewan and I met in our second year of college, dated for two years, and got married shortly after graduation. Five years later, the man standing before me now felt like a stranger. Gia had been part of my life, too. She was a friend from college, albeit not a close one. How she developed feelings for Ewan or when she began acting on them, I couldn’t say. In our student days, she’d seemed ordinary enough, bright and cheerful, like most people. It wasn’t until years into adulthood that I realized how easily some people shed their morals under pressure. Ewan’s betrayal blindsided me. He’d always been a bit careless but had never treated our relationship like a joke. Yet, in the span of a single year, he’d managed to unravel everything we had. The soup arrived quickly, but the delivery receipt bore Gia’s name and number, with only the address swapped. The delivery man muttered irritably about unreturned calls as he handed over the bag. I sighed, opened the package, and found a container of seafood soup, something I couldn’t stomach, and a few generic over-the-counter pills that didn’t match my symptoms. It wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened. Ewan hadn’t ordered these. Gia had. I ended up going to the hospital myself. By the time I’d registered, bought medication, and gotten an IV drip, night had fallen, and snowflakes were gently swirling outside. Ewan eventually tracked me down, looking disheveled and windblown. The first thing out of his mouth, however, was a sharp reprimand. “Didn’t I already order you soup and medicine? Why are you making such a fuss and coming here like you’re trying to get admitted?” I stared at him, then past him, where Gia hovered by the door. The sight of her clinging to the edges of our lives, coupled with Ewan’s obliviousness, made my fatigue and disgust overflow. “Ewan,” I said, my voice calm but resolute, “let’s get a divorce.”

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“Get me the best doctor here right now!” As I stepped out of the staff-only elevator, I was greeted by the sight of my husband, Nelson Fairclough, making a scene outside the operating room. My first thought was, “What is he doing here?” He told me he was away on a business trip today and couldn’t celebrate our seventh wedding anniversary with me. Before I could process what was happening, he yelled at the nurse again. “You’d better save my wife and baby, or I’ll make sure this hospital goes bankrupt!” I froze at his words. I thought, “If his wife is the one lying in that operating room, then who am I?” The realization hit me like a freight train. I’d been betrayed. I was still standing there in shock when a young doctor hurried toward me. “Dr. Fairclough, you’re just in time. All the senior surgeons are tied up with other cases. Please, you need to head into the OR now!” I took a deep breath, clenched my fists, and made my way toward the operating room. Nelson blocked my path, his voice dripping with hostility. “Are you the lead surgeon?” I was momentarily stunned that he didn’t recognize me. “Even with the surgical cap and mask covering most of my face, how could he not recognize his wife of seven years?” I thought. But then again, I realized that he probably never imagined I’d be here. Last month, I was temporarily assigned to this small-town hospital as part of an exchange program. I remembered telling Nelson about it, but it was obvious that he had been too engrossed in his phone and hadn’t paid attention. From behind my mask, I said calmly, “Please step aside, Sir.” I brushed past him. Nelson shouted after me, “There aren’t any men in that OR, right? My wife’s body isn’t for other men to see!” I cursed him silently, disgusted by his absurd possessiveness. But my curiosity grew. His words intrigued me more about the identity of the “wife” he was so protective of. After scrubbing in, I entered the OR. A pregnant woman lay pale and weak on the operating table. The moment I saw her face, my chest tightened. It was Olivia Hilton, the wife of Edmund Hilton, Nelson’s cousin. Edmund was a soldier and was often away on duty. Olivia would frequently call Nelson over to her house with excuses like a broken appliance or a plumbing issue. I’d been so busy with work that I never paid much attention to these things. But now, I realized they had been carrying on behind my back! The nurse handed me Olivia’s medical chart. Olivia was eight months pregnant. Her premature contractions were triggered by sexual activity during her pregnancy. I flipped through the chart, my mind racing. Edmund had been away for nearly a year. I couldn’t help but think, “Could the baby Olivia is carrying be Nelson’s?” My stomach churned. Memories of suspicious moments surfaced. Despite years of marriage, I hadn’t been able to conceive. My cycles were irregular, and last year, I’d suggested Nelson get tested. He’d flatly refused, insisting he was perfectly fine. Even his mother, Rosina Fairclough, had taken his side. I thought, “No wonder he was so sure of himself. He’s already gotten someone else pregnant.” It dawned on me that Rosina must have known all along. “Dr. Fairclough,” my assistant interrupted, “should we prepare for a C-section?” I checked the fetal heart rate and ultrasound. The baby was developed enough to survive outside the womb. “The irony,” I thought bitterly. “I’m about to perform a C-section on the woman who’s been sleeping with my husband.” But as a doctor, I had no other choice. Taking a steadying breath, I said, “Yes. Prep for anesthesia.” As we began preparations, Olivia suddenly screamed, “I want my husband here! I don’t want to do this alone!” The nurse tried to soothe her. “Ms. Hilton, that’s against protocol…” “Why not? I’ve seen husbands in the delivery room on TV!” After the anesthesia kicked in, Olivia’s contractions eased, and she began shouting energetically. The nurse explained patiently, “Those require prior approval, and our hospital doesn’t…” Olivia shouted, “I don’t care! My husband is a high-ranking executive! If you don’t let him in, you’ll regret it!” I thought, “Your real husband is a soldier, Olivia. Nelson’s just your lover, isn’t he? How shameless.” Clearly, neither Olivia nor Nelson cared about their marriage. They openly called each other husband and wife. “I won’t deliver unless my husband is here!” Olivia declared.

My assistant hesitated. “Dr. Fairclough, what should we do?” Suppressing my rage, I replied, “Call the director. I don’t have the authority to make that decision.” The director approved it quickly, saying the paperwork could be handled later. Soon, Nelson entered the room, dressed in scrubs. Olivia immediately started whining. “Honey, it hurts so much…” She was lying, of course. In her semi-anesthetized state, she wouldn’t feel pain. Nelson held her hand tenderly. “Hang in there, sweetheart. Once the baby’s born, I’ll reward you.” “I want that limited-edition designer bag…” “Anything you want. Just name it.” Watching this despicable pair, I no longer felt anger. I only felt self-loathing for being so stupid. Nelson had been so distant recently, even forgetting my birthday and our anniversary, but I’d foolishly chalked it up to work stress. “Anstey,” I told myself, “you’re a doctor. No matter who’s on the table, you must do your duty.” Resolving to stay professional, I picked up the scalpel. The first incision was smooth. Nelson leaned over to look, then promptly fainted. Ignoring him, I moved on to the second layer. “Nelson! Are you okay?” Olivia shrieked, trying to sit up. My assistant held her down. “Ms. Hilton, please remain still.” Two nurses dragged Nelson to a corner. I knew what was going on. Nelson must have fainted from the sight of blood. “How touching,” I thought sarcastically. “He really does care for Olivia.” We successfully delivered the baby. It was a frail boy, his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, his skin a sickly purple. “Is the baby out?” Olivia asked anxiously. “It’s a boy,” my assistant replied. She was overjoyed and immediately asked, “Why isn’t he crying?” The assistant didn’t answer. I calmly cleared the mucus from the baby’s airway and gave his foot a firm tap. The baby’s first cry finally pierced the room. Nelson stirred, attempting to sit up, but fainted again when he saw the bloodied newborn. The nurse measured the baby’s vitals and weight before showing him to Olivia. “He’s a little weak and needs to be placed in an incubator,” the nurse explained. “What? Incubator? You’re just trying to scam us for money!” Olivia snapped. I lost my patience. “Premature babies often require incubators. If you don’t trust our hospital, you’re welcome to transfer elsewhere.” Her defiance flared. “Fine! We’ll transfer! My husband can afford it. If it weren’t for…” She stopped short, then muttered, “Who’d come to this crappy hospital otherwise?” I knew what she meant. They came here to avoid gossip. After all, I was the best doctor at the city’s top hospital, and if they had born this kid in the city, I might have found out about their affair. I handed over the post-op procedures to my team and stepped out. Just as I was about to take a break, I heard loud yelling from the corridor. “The baby wasn’t even due yet! Why was he born? I’ll sue this hospital into the ground!” Looking up, I saw the source of the commotion. It was Nelson’s mother, Rosina.

Rosina blocked the midwife, refusing to let her take the baby to the NICU. The midwife, growing anxious, tried to reason with her. “Mrs. Fairclough, due to the risk of losing the baby, we had to perform an emergency C-section…” “What?” Rosina’s voice shot up. “A C-section? Natural birth makes smarter kids! Who gave you permission to do this? Call your director here, now!” I had never realized how ignorant Rosina could be. My emotions churned, but I wanted no part in this mess. I only wanted to leave. I made up my mind. As soon as I got home, I would divorce Nelson and sever all ties with these shameless people. I tried to avoid her and walk away. But Rosina spotted me and quickly stepped in my path. “Was it you who performed the C-section on my daughter-in-law?” I answered calmly, “The procedure was done with the patient’s and her family’s consent. If you have questions, take them up with your son.” Rosina didn’t recognize me. She started shouting again. “Hey! How dare you talk to me like that? Do you even know who I am? Who do you think you are? You are just a doctor!” Taking advantage of the distraction, the midwife hurriedly wheeled the baby into the elevator. Rosina, too focused on berating me, failed to stop her. She redirected her fury toward me. “You’re the reason my grandson was born prematurely! What kind of evil person are you? Are you trying to ruin his future?” The other people waiting outside the operating room couldn’t stand it anymore and began to speak up. “How unreasonable can you get? The doctor only acted to save your grandson!” “Exactly. Both your son and his wife signed off on the surgery. Why are you blaming the doctor?” Someone discreetly began recording the scene on his phone. Rosina, unfazed, lashed out. “Mind your own business! If it’s not the doctor’s fault, then whose is it? My grandson wasn’t due for two more months! It’s all because of this quack!” “You’re heartless,” an elderly woman interjected. “The doctor saved your grandson’s life!” The argument spiraled into chaos. In her rage, Rosina suddenly swung a fist at the elderly woman. I quickly intervened, warning Rosina. “Madam, if you keep this up, I’ll have to call security.” “You wouldn’t dare! Go ahead and try!” Rosina screamed, now completely unhinged. I shielded the older woman, urging her to step back. “Please, Madam, step aside for your safety…” Taking advantage of my momentary distraction, Rosina shoved me hard. I staggered, unable to steady myself, and fell heavily to the ground. A wave of dizziness hit me, followed by sharp pain in my lower abdomen. Concerned bystanders rushed to help me up. “Doctor, are you okay?” I couldn’t stand straight. Rosina, however, began shouting as if she were the victim. “Stop pretending! I barely touched you!” The pain was unbearable. I pressed my stomach, too weak to argue with her. Suddenly, I noticed a warm sensation trickling down my thigh. I froze, too terrified to move. Just then, Nelson appeared, pushing Olivia’s hospital bed out of the operating room. Seeing Rosina, Nelson asked in surprise, “Mom? What are you doing here?” Rosina, emboldened now that her son was present, twisted the story. “Your assistant told me Olivia was delivering the baby here! Nelson, tell me, did this quack doctor trick you into agreeing to a C-section? It was such a major decision, and you didn’t even consult me first! Hospitals like this always exaggerate risks to scam people into expensive procedures!” Several staff members lost their patience and spoke up. “Don’t you dare accuse us without evidence!” “The patient’s water broke! We had no choice but to perform the surgery!” Rosina, hands on her hips, snapped back. “And why did her water break, huh? Don’t try to fool me!” I couldn’t listen to her nonsense any longer. Summoning my remaining strength, I retorted, “Your son and his wife caused this by having sex during her pregnancy!”

Nelson froze, unable to refute me. Rosina hesitated briefly before flying into a rage. “That’s a lie! My son would never do something like that!” A nurse came over to support me. “Dr. Fairclough, don’t stoop to her level. Let’s get you out of here…” But Rosina wouldn’t let it go. She grabbed my arm, trying to stop me. “Hold it right there! Do you think you can just walk away? You owe my grandson an explanation!” Pain tore through my abdomen, and I felt cold sweat on my forehead. I realized something was very wrong. I broke free from her grip in desperation, pushing her away. Rosina stumbled back into the wall, clutching her back. She immediately began wailing dramatically. “Oh, my head! You’ve hurt me!” The nurse snapped at her. “You hit your back, not your head! Stop lying!” Rosina whined, “I don’t care! Apologize to me, or you’ll regret it!” She turned to Nelson for backup. “Your mother’s being mistreated, and you’re just standing there? Do something!” Nelson, still angry with me from the operating room, saw his chance to lash out. He marched over, pointing a finger in my face. “Apologize to my mother right now!” I gritted my teeth through the pain and whispered to the nurse, “I… I can’t… My stomach hurts. Take me away, please…” The nurse tried to lead me away, but Nelson grabbed my arm roughly. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re not leaving until you apologize!” The nurse tried to intervene, only for Nelson to shove her aside. “Nelson! You’d better see who I am!” I shouted hoarsely.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295342”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller

Roger Quinn, the man I had secretly loved for years, was about to announce his engagement to my younger sister. Summoning all my courage, I returned to Beltown to confess my feelings. The room erupted with laughter at my audacity. “Look at her,” someone sneered, “a bastard child trying to climb the social ladder.” But they didn’t know. When I was eighteen, Roger had kissed me, a moment so tender it had lingered in my heart ever since. And they definitely didn’t know the truth that I wasn’t the illegitimate daughter. Lisa was. I stood my ground, forcing myself to look Roger in the eye and demand an answer. “I thought you were Lisa back then,” he said coldly. “I’m not interested in you.” Lisa nestled into his arms, her smug smile like salt in an open wound. I bit back the tears, forcing a bitter smile. “In that case, I wish you both all the happiness in the world.” Then I turned and walked away, dialing the number of the wealthy godmother. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll leave Beltown and marry your son.” On the day of my wedding, Roger had called off his engagement to Lisa. He asked me if I could give him another chance. I glanced at him briefly, then turned to my fiancé, tightening my hold on his arm. “Sorry,” I said lightly, my tone indifferent. “I’m not interested in you anymore.”

When I returned from Cletown unannounced, the entire room froze in shock. Roger and my half-sister, Lisa, were in the middle of discussing their engagement. Leona Quinn’s face twisted in discomfort, though she forced a smile. “How long are you planning to stay?” I set my suitcase down and answered directly, “I’m not going back to Cletown. I’m planning to find a job here.” The room erupted into murmurs, the air suddenly heavy with tension. The looks my relatives gave me changed instantly, filled with disdain and derision. Someone sneered, “After what you did back then, you’ve still got the nerve to show your face here?” Another muttered, “Ungrateful brat. The Quinn family took you in, and this is how you repay them? Trying to climb up to Roger?” Silence settled over the room like a thick fog. They weren’t wrong. I had come back to ruin the engagement. Summoning all my courage, I stepped toward Roger, my heart pounding in my chest. “Roger,” I said, my voice trembling, “I like you.” Roger’s expression remained calm as if I were nothing more than a naive child. Lisa rose from her seat, her eyes welling with tears. “If Mirea likes Roger too,” she said softly, “then maybe we shouldn’t get engaged.” Roger finally spoke, his voice cold and measured, “Mirea, stop this nonsense. I don’t feel anything for you.” He didn’t feel anything for me? I stared at him, my composure cracking. “Then why were you so furious when I dated someone before?” “You were too young. As your guardian, it was my responsibility to keep you from making mistakes.” “And the kiss? When I turned eighteen, you came into my room in the middle of the night and kissed me. Was that nothing? Don’t tell me it was a mistake.” Roger’s face didn’t waver. “I was drunk. It was just a kiss; it didn’t mean anything.” I let out a bitter laugh. “And what about the family heirloom bracelet? You gave it to me. Was that ‘just nothing’ too?” “That was to make you happy,” he replied, his tone flat, devoid of emotion. It felt like a wall inside me collapsed. This gamble, this desperate, reckless bet, was a resounding loss. Then Roger added, “If the bracelet caused a misunderstanding, you should return it. I’ll need it back now that I’m getting married.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. “Fine,” I whispered. Lisa pouted, tugging on his sleeve. “It’s just a bracelet, Roger. If Mirea likes it so much, let her have it.” The man who had doted on me pulled her close, his voice soft. “No, what’s yours is yours.” Lisa leaned into him, her face glowing with triumph. “It’s just a formality. As long as I have your heart, nothing else matters.” The way he gazed at her, tender and adoring, was exactly how he used to look at me. I stood there in a daze as the room erupted into cruel laughter. “She has no shame, asking something like that.” “They never should’ve let Roger take her in. Look at the mess now.” “Exactly. No wonder her parents didn’t want her. She deserves it.” Even though I had prepared for the worst, the words still stung. Leona couldn’t take it anymore and dragged me aside, her voice a sharp whisper. “What were you thinking? If you had to come back, fine, but why make things so awkward for everyone? “Roger practically raised you. Sure, he’s not your biological uncle, but he treated you like you were the center of his world. “And Lisa is your sister. How could you be so jealous of her happiness that you’d try to tear them apart?” She was right. Roger wasn’t my real uncle. He had taken me in as a child, and I had loved him in secret for seven years. But was it my fault? He was the one who gave me hope, time and time again.

The whispers around me pulled at the dark threads of my past, dragging back memories I’d rather forget. I was Lisa’s half-sister, sharing the same father but not the same life. She was born into the Bentley family as their beloved princess, showered with love and privilege. I, on the other hand, was the outcast. It all started with Hugo Bentley, the man who had promised my mother the world. She fell in love with him, only to find herself pregnant. He convinced her to keep the baby, promising they would marry. But he kept delaying the wedding, and when I was four, he turned his back on us completely, marrying a wealthy debutante instead. The day Hugo wed the Quinn family heiress, my mother showed up at their grand estate with me in her arms, desperate for justice. Instead, she was branded a homewrecker and pelted with eggs. Shielding me with her body, she endured every insult and slur hurled her way. From that day on, she was a pariah in Beltown, a walking scandal whispered about behind every closed door. She could no longer bear the humiliation. A year later, when I was five, she took her own life by jumping from our apartment window. My existence became a thorn in Hugo’s side, an embarrassment he couldn’t ignore. Reluctantly, he brought me into his mansion, but he treated me like a ghost, neither acknowledging me nor caring whether I lived or died. Roger, who lived next door, saw me for the lonely child I was and took me in. He gave me a new name, Mirea Quinn, erasing my ties to the Bentley family. To the world, I was now “Ms. Quinn,” no longer the unwanted daughter of a disgraced mother. Roger raised me with care and affection, spoiling me as if I were his own. He nurtured me, shaping me into someone more elegant and poised than Lisa could ever be. I didn’t know when my admiration for him shifted into something deeper. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with my handsome and kind “uncle.” In high school, suitors came in droves, but I turned them all down. My deskmate, Laura, once asked if I liked anyone. Unable to contain my secret, I confessed my feelings for Roger. What I planned to keep buried forever was dragged into the light at my 18th birthday party. Somehow, Lisa had gotten hold of a recording of my conversation with Laura. She played it for everyone to hear, the words echoing like a cruel joke: “I think I might be in love with Roger.” My cheeks burned as I stammered out an explanation, but Roger said nothing. Instead, he told me to go to my room and rest. The rumors that followed engulfed him like wildfire. Ken, Roger’s grandfather, was furious. He demanded that Roger send me away to avoid further scandal. Roger refused. He defied the family for my sake, even at the cost of being stripped of his position as CEO. I couldn’t bear to see him suffer, so I changed my university application. Late at night, I knocked on his door, telling him not to worry. “I’ve already applied to a university down south,” I said. “I’ll leave soon. You won’t have to worry about me anymore.” His room reeked of alcohol. He said nothing as he stepped closer, his breath hot and heavy, before losing control and kissing me. That kiss seared itself into my memory, a moment I clung to even as I moved thousands of miles away. For four years, I stayed away, never once returning to Beltown. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him, replaying that night over and over. I thought he liked me. When I heard about his engagement to Lisa, I rushed home and demanded an answer. But it turned out I was just a joke. That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my mind refusing to rest. By two in the morning, I gave up on sleep and went to the wine cellar for a drink. Passing by Roger’s room, I heard faint voices, a woman’s soft, coquettish murmur. “Come closer,” he said. “Didn’t seeing her like that make you feel the slightest bit guilty?” Lisa asked. “What’s there to feel guilty about?” Roger’s voice was calm, even dismissive. “When I took her in, it was purely to strengthen the Quinn family’s alliances. Once we’re married, I’ll find a suitable match for her and send her on her way.” The string I had been clinging to so tightly snapped. I stood frozen outside the door, each second stretching into an eternity. Everything I had believed, the warmth that had carried me through my darkest days, it was all a lie. To him, I was nothing more than a pawn, a tool to be used and discarded. For the first time, I felt an overwhelming urge to leave the Quinn family behind, no matter what it took.

I didn’t know when I had fallen asleep, but by the time I opened my eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. I packed my bags, along with the gifts Roger had given me over the years, including the bracelet. Hesitating for a moment, I walked to his door and knocked. It was Lisa who answered. She stood there in a deep V-neck dress, her neck and collarbone covered in fresh kiss marks. Seeing me, she tilted her head with a smile and stepped aside. “Roger, Mirea’s here to see you.” The events of the previous day played in my mind, and whatever lingering attachment I had for him vanished. I handed the bracelet and other items to Lisa, dragging my suitcase as I turned to leave. I hadn’t even reached the stairs when Roger called out behind me, “Where are you going?” I turned, my voice calm and detached. “I’m moving out. I won’t trouble you anymore.” He stared at me in silence for a few seconds before replying in an indifferent tone, “Then let’s have dinner together tonight. Consider it a welcome for your return. Let’s not dwell on yesterday. We’re still family.” I didn’t want to go, but then I thought about all he had done for me over the years. Whatever his feelings for me now, I owed him my life. If not for Roger, I might have died of neglect in that cold Bentley Villa. This would be our last meal together before we moved on with our separate lives. At least it was a peaceful ending. “Alright,” I murmured softly, then turned and walked down the stairs. After checking into a hotel, I buried myself under the covers and slept like the dead. At 5 PM, Roger texted me the restaurant’s location. I got up, washed, and applied some light makeup. When I entered the private dining room, I saw a group of familiar faces waiting for me. Lisa greeted me with a glass of wine, her tone overly sweet as she apologized, “Mirea, I’m sorry. Let me toast you to make up for yesterday.” Before I could respond, Roger reached over and took the glass from her. “Lisa’s pregnant; she shouldn’t be drinking,” he said flatly. “And if anyone should apologize, it’s me for letting you misunderstand. I’ll drink this on her behalf.” I stared at the two of them, their performance making me feel strangely hollow. So while I had agonized over whether or not to confess, he had already started a family with someone else. Those moments I had once clung to, were they really just meaningless signals I had misinterpreted? The realization left me feeling like a fool. It was no wonder people laughed at me. Sensing my silence, the atmosphere grew awkward. Roger’s friends quickly stepped in, showering Lisa with compliments and defending her at every turn. Feeling suffocated, I excused myself and went to the restroom. I wondered if coming to this dinner had been a mistake. Perhaps I should make up an excuse and leave early. As I debated, voices drifted in from outside the restroom. “Lisa, why are you even bothering to appease Mirea? Why invite her out at all? “And you’re pregnant! Aren’t you worried she’ll try to seduce Roger?” Lisa’s voice, though hushed, was perfectly audible. “What’s there to worry about? The baby isn’t even Roger’s.” She continued, her tone dripping with malice. “Besides, the more magnanimous I act, the pettier she looks. Roger will hate her even more.” Then, with a sneer, she added, “Her mother was no better, stealing my father like the shameless woman she was.” I couldn’t take it anymore. My foot slammed into the restroom door, flinging it open. “Why are you doing this to him? He loves you!” I shouted. Lisa jumped, startled, but quickly recovered, her expression twisting into mockery. “Why? Because seeing you miserable makes me happy. Everything you want, I’ll take it all.” Before I knew it, my hand lashed out, striking her across the face. She stared at me in shock, her cheek flaming red, before rushing back to the dining room. By the time I returned, she was sitting beside Roger, tears glistening in her eyes as she touched her face. “What happened to your cheek?” Roger asked. Before Lisa could answer, Laura jumped in. “Mirea slapped her.” Roger’s cold gaze pinned me where I stood. “Why did you hit her?” Lisa sniffled pitifully, her voice trembling. “Roger, it’s just a misunderstanding. Please don’t blame her.” Without even attempting to hear my side of the story, Roger moved to her side and demanded I apologize. The suffocating weight of it all crushed any remaining desire I had to stay. I stared at him coldly, grabbed my bag, and made for the door. But Lisa wasn’t done. She lunged after me, grabbing at my arm. I yanked free and quickened my pace, wanting no part of her antics. Behind me, there was a loud crash. Lisa had tripped over a table leg, landing heavily on the ground. Her screams of pain echoed through the room as blood began to pool beneath her. I froze, instinctively turning back to help, but Roger shoved me away with such force that my back slammed into a table corner. Pain radiated through my body, sharp and unrelenting. “Roger, help! Save our baby!” Lisa wailed, clutching her stomach. “Roger, I didn’t push her! She ran at me!” I explained. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged to the hospital, my back throbbing with every step. In the antiseptic hallway, Roger’s voice was as cold as ever. “If something happens to Lisa or the baby, we’re done.” I let out a bitter laugh, glaring at him through the pain. “You think that’s your baby? Open your eyes, Roger. It’s someone else’s bastard.”

“Mirea! Do you even realize what you’re saying?” Before I could respond, the doctor came out with news: Lisa’s child was gone. The next moment, Roger’s icy slap landed on my cheek. Before I could process the sting, he dragged me to Lisa’s hospital bed. “Apologize!” he barked. I bit down on my anger, refusing to open my mouth. Roger pushed me down forcefully until my knees hit the floor with a loud thud. The sharp pain made tears stream down my face uncontrollably. “I’ve told you before, Lisa isn’t like other women. If you ever bully her again, don’t bother coming back.” I struggled to my feet despite the searing pain. “Fine, I won’t come back. After all, the only reason you brought me into the Quinn family in the first place was to secure your family’s business interests!” Roger’s eyes darkened with disappointment. “If you want to leave, then go. Just remember, you owe Lisa a life.” I let out a bitter laugh, wiping away my tears as I glared at him. “I owe her a life? What about the Bentley family? Don’t they owe my mother one? Who’s paying that back?” “Get out,” he hissed coldly. Without a backward glance, I walked out of the hospital and into the pouring rain. I sat on the curb, letting the cold rain soak me as I calmed myself. After what felt like an eternity, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Godmother,” I said, my voice steady, “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll come back to Cletown tomorrow and get engaged to Yance.” There was a pause on the other end before her excited voice came through. “That’s wonderful news! But don’t rush back just yet, stay a day or two and attend Roger’s engagement party. After all, he did take care of you all these years, and it’s only polite.” I hesitated, then reluctantly agreed. “Perfect timing!” she added. “Yance just got back to the country. He can swing by Beltown to pick you up.” I frowned. “Swing by? Is it really on the way?” “Of course it is! You’re going to be family soon anyway. It’s a great opportunity for you two to chat and get to know each other.” After some thought, I nodded. She wasn’t wrong. After my mother’s death, my godmother had reached out, offering to take me to Cletown to live with her. But Roger had been so kind to me back then. I couldn’t bear to leave and hurt him, so I turned her down every time. Years later, I ended up going to Cletown for university. My godmother often took me shopping, and I spent most of my holidays at her home. When I graduated, she offered me a job at her company and even suggested introducing me to her son, the same boy my mother had once taken me to meet. But back then, my heart belonged to Roger. Now, all of that was behind me. I no longer wanted to stay in Beltown. I needed to start over somewhere new. After hanging up, a notification popped up from an old friend. I opened it to find screenshots of Roger at the hospital, doting on Lisa. I didn’t respond. My friend, noticing my silence, sent another message: “Mirea, are you really giving up just like that? You’ve loved him for seven years.” I sighed, typing back: [What else am I supposed to do? Stay entangled in this mess and become the laughingstock of Beltown?” “That’s not what I meant. I just think…” “Don’t.”I cut her off. “There’s nothing to think about. I don’t love him anymore.”

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It was my first day at the new job, and of course, they assigned me a night shift right away. I had always worked at public hospitals, but a few weeks ago, I got an offer from a private one. The salary was hard to resist, and in the end, I couldn’t say no. I decided to make the switch. At this new hospital, my salary had increased several times over, and the work was a bit easier, too. I’d been married for almost two years, and with a less stressful, higher-paying job, I thought it would be easier for us to start trying for a baby. I couldn’t help but laugh when I thought about how Nathaniel, my husband, spent his time watching videos of cute little kids all day. He loved kids, so I figured having one wouldn’t be so bad. Even though his financial situation wasn’t exactly great, my income made up for that. In a marriage, there was no need to worry about who earned more. We both contributed what we could. If one of us made less, the other just picked up more of the household duties. I had always been pretty laid-back about it. Once I finished my night shift, I planned to tell Nathaniel the good news. I was sure he’d be over the moon. By midnight, I was getting a bit sleepy, but I grabbed my chart and went to start my rounds. When I reached the door of one of the private rooms, I heard some strange noises coming from inside. I shook my head, feeling a bit exasperated, and decided to skip that room, thinking I’d check it later. But just as I turned to walk away, I heard voices. “You need to get your health back on track if you want to get pregnant soon!” The voice made me stop dead in my tracks. It was Nathaniel’s voice. His voice was rough, and there weren’t many people who sounded like him, so I recognized it immediately. “Come on, let me rest for a couple of days, and I’ll make sure we have that healthy baby of yours soon enough!” A sweet, almost sickly voice followed, and I knew right away it was a woman’s voice. “Besides, you’re still married. Me getting pregnant right now would be… a bit complicated, don’t you think? Who would want to have a baby with no proper standing?” she added. That was all I needed to hear. This woman was definitely a mistress. At that moment, I wasn’t thinking about finishing my rounds anymore. I just wanted to barge in and see if Nathaniel was really in there. If it was him, well, things were about to get very interesting. But instead of pushing the door open, I went straight to the nurse’s station, pulled up the surveillance footage, and checked the hallway. As expected, earlier that day, Nathaniel had walked in carrying a basket of fruit, and he hadn’t come out since. That was all I needed to know. I had been completely betrayed. I never expected that changing hospitals would lead to something like this. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I walked past the room, finished my rounds, and returned to the office. I sat down, feeling dizzy and confused. Nathaniel and I hadn’t known each other long, but we’d always gotten along well. When I was busy at the hospital, he took care of everything at home. I never had to worry about a thing. Up until now, I had thought we were perfect for each other—he was an amazing husband, and I couldn’t imagine him cheating. I never even considered the possibility of falling for anyone else. But now, everything felt like a cruel joke. We met at the hospital when he came in for his regular check-up, and I had just finished a surgery when we bumped into each other in the hallway. It was love at first sight. Who would have thought that this wonderful guy, the husband I always bragged about, could actually cheat? I felt numb. Exhaustion hit me hard, and before I realized it, I fell asleep. The next morning, my colleague came in for the handover, and I automatically asked about the patient in bed 305. “Oh, you mean Isabelle Lane? She lost her baby because of being too active during her pregnancy. We found out she’s had lost a few babies. After the D&C, her chances of getting pregnant again are practically zero,” my colleague said. My heart sank when I heard that. She had lost a few babies? Could it be that all of them were Nathaniel’s? I couldn’t shake the thought as I went to finish my last round for the day. When I entered room 305, Isabelle seemed shocked at first. But she quickly masked her expression and gave me a mocking look. “Dr. Hale, you look so exhausted. Didn’t get enough sleep last night?” I didn’t feel like answering, so I stayed silent. There was no rule that said I had to respond to every patient’s questions. Isabelle stared at me for a moment before deliberately saying, “A woman as beautiful as you, your husband must adore you, right?” I didn’t react, but I could tell by the way she spoke that she knew exactly who I was. Otherwise, how would she have known so much and why was she showing me such obvious hostility? “Why are you so quiet? I really like you. You’re so pretty. If I were your husband, I’d never cheat on you. You’d be the luckiest woman in the world.” I wasn’t affected by her words. They were clearly meant to provoke me. Had I not known the truth, I might have laughed it off. But after everything I’d learned, I just felt disgusted. “After losing a baby, you need to rest. Losing a few babies can cause infertility. Women need to take better care of themselves,” I said coldly and then turned and walked away. I didn’t know whose children Isabelle had lost, and I couldn’t expect Nathaniel to come clean at the hospital. When I finished my rounds and was about to leave, I was about to open the door when I bumped into Nathaniel himself. He was holding a glass container with some cut-up fruit in it. He looked worn out, like he hadn’t slept well. We stood there in front of room 305, and I could see the panic in his eyes the moment he saw me. “How did you end up here?” I frowned as I asked, closing the door to Room 305 behind me. No matter what, I didn’t want Isabelle to see me as a joke. When Nathaniel heard my question, a look of unease crossed his face. “I’m just visiting a friend,” he said, forcing a smile as he explained. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly, “Visiting a friend, huh? Do you really need to bring cut fruit for that? Is she a friend or your girlfriend?” It struck me as ridiculous. Even though I thought Nathaniel loved me, he had never once taken the time to cut fruit for me. Yet, this other woman was treated entirely differently. How was I supposed to feel at ease about that? Nathaniel, clearly irritated by my words, shot me a frustrated glance. “What are you implying? Do you think I’m lying to you? I’m just visiting a friend. It’s not something I want to make public, so I didn’t mention it to you.” He looked at me, visibly agitated, shaking his head in disbelief. “If you really think I’d cheat on you, then I don’t even know what to say!” With that, he didn’t stick around any longer. He turned and stormed off, looking like he was hurt and offended. I felt confused. It was almost as if he was embarrassed about being caught and was now angry because of it. That evening, Nathaniel didn’t come home, probably wanting to avoid me for a while. I couldn’t be bothered to engage with him. At that point, all I could feel was a deep sense of frustration. I had enough evidence now to prove he was cheating, and while I was ready to divorce him, I wasn’t sure I could let go of the years we’d spent together. After thinking it over, I decided not to make a move just yet. I would give him one more chance. If he could come to his senses, maybe I could pretend none of this ever happened. The next day at work, Nathaniel even brought me lunch. I didn’t make it easy for him—gave him no acknowledgment at all—but he still kept at it for days, bringing me lunch and chatting briefly before leaving to “go back to work”. But the security footage told a different story. He wasn’t going back to work. He was meeting up with Isabelle again. Initially, I wanted to forgive him, to give him that chance. But now, after everything, I was just beyond done with him. Every time I went to check on patients, I had to see Isabelle’s smug face. She would taunt me with little remarks. “Dr. Hale, do you want some of this? It’s the fruit my man personally cut for me!” “Dr. Hale, how about some fresh juice? My man went out and bought it just for me!” I knew she was doing this on purpose, trying to get under my skin. But I wasn’t about to waste my time on her. If they kept this up, though, I would have no choice but to file for divorce. Just as I was mulling over these thoughts, I saw Nathaniel walk in carrying the lunch he’d made for me. When he saw me, his expression immediately soured. He quickly recovered, offering an explanation. “I brought you lunch. I heard you were doing rounds, so I thought I’d drop by.” His words were so forced, I couldn’t even stand to hear them. “Really? You think I could eat while I’m doing rounds? Or were you planning to give this lunch to that ‘friend’ of yours who’s just lost her baby?” Nathaniel shot me a look of irritation. “Enough with this personal stuff! Don’t drag other people into it. You’ve gone too far.” I was done with him. It was clear his heart wasn’t with me anymore—everything he did now was just to please Isabelle. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” I gathered my paperwork and turned to leave, but Nathaniel stepped in front of me, his face full of frustration. “Apologize.” I was stunned. I had no idea what he was talking about. “Apologize? For what?” I couldn’t believe he was demanding an apology. Was he asking me to apologize to that woman? Nathaniel looked at me with disgust, clearly angry. “What you said was uncalled for. You need to apologize to Isabelle. We’re just friends, okay? I came here to check on her as a friend, and you humiliated her. Don’t you think that’s ridiculous?” For a moment, I almost thought maybe I had misunderstood things. If I hadn’t caught them in the act that night, I might have believed him. “Oh, please, don’t make her apologize. I’m fine! It’s just a misunderstanding, really,” Isabelle chimed in with her sugary tone, pretending to brush it off. I was so disgusted by her words, but I didn’t want to get caught up in any more drama. I turned to leave without saying another word. Nathaniel didn’t stop me. It seemed like he knew there was no point in arguing further—it was better to spend time with his little girlfriend than waste it on me. Back in my office, I accessed the hospital’s system and pulled up Isabelle’s records. I was shocked to find out that Nathaniel and Isabelle were both from the same small town. Under her occupation, it said, “Unemployed.” It seemed she was just another unemployed person from a small town. As I thought about it, my stomach churned. This private hospital was known for catering to wealthy clients, and I highly doubted someone without a job could afford to stay there. The truth hit me hard—Nathaniel was the one footing the bill for her stay. The idea of him spending our shared money on this woman made my blood boil. His affair had crossed a line, and I wasn’t going to put up with it. Divorce was already on my mind. Nathaniel’s financial situation was nothing compared to mine. The house and the car—both mine. But since all of this was acquired after we got married, it was considered marital property. I wasn’t going to let him walk away with what was rightfully mine. So, I contacted a private investigator. Even though I knew he was cheating, I didn’t have concrete proof. Once I had the evidence, I would have enough to prove he was cheating and make sure he left with nothing. When I finished everything, I realized it was time for my rounds. I hurriedly grabbed the patient files and went from room to room. By the time I reached Isabelle’s room, I was a minute late. As soon as I pushed the door open, I saw Isabelle’s smug expression. She glanced at me coldly and then shook the timer in her hand. “Dr. Hale, you’re late,” Isabelle said, her voice dripping with smugness as she put her phone down and leaned back against the wall. “I was timing you. Didn’t expect to witness your tardiness.” I ignored her and quickly finished my checkup before turning to leave. Talking to that woman was a waste of time. I couldn’t stand seeing her act so self-important. As soon as I finished my rounds and was about to sit down to write my notes, I got a call from the hospital director, asking me to come to his office. When I arrived, I found the director looking less than pleased. “Dr. Hale, I know you’re passionate about your work, but you really need to be more mindful of your timing. We had a complaint from a patient about you being late for your rounds. We’ve always been very strict about these things to ensure the best experience for our patients,” he said, glancing at me. “Why don’t you take a few days off? Once this patient is discharged, you can return to work.” I didn’t argue. I just nodded and left. The director probably sensed my mood and wisely chose not to push the matter further. As I was leaving his office, I heard shouting coming from Isabelle’s room. “Dr. Hale is so unprofessional! Doesn’t even care about the patients. Can anyone just be a doctor these days? She can’t even keep her scheduled rounds, and she’s late by a whole minute. Doesn’t she have any respect for us patients?”

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After losing control while drunk, I slept with the boy next door. He’s an extremely responsible person, so he proposed to me after sobering up. It wasn’t until later that I found out his most beloved woman had left the country that night. So I hid my deep feelings and became his obedient and virtuous wife in name only in this wealthy family. On countless quiet nights, we were incredibly in sync, yet kept our distance. My friends all said I would never be able to lGronaeave him, and I thought so too. Until one day, when I discovered his second phone. While he was in the shower, a girl sent a selfie of herself. “Mr. Brown, thank you for the birthday gift.” She was a very young girl with delicate features. But she was wearing expensive clothes that didn’t match her age, so she looked a bit uncomfortable. I stared at it for a long time, until my eyes stung. I had always known there was someone in Arlo’s life, but I never imagined it would be a girl like this. Beyond my heartache, I was also surprised by my husband’s preferences. I thought to myself, I’m sorry for discovering Arlo’s secret. A moment later, Arlo came out with steam rising from his body. “How long are you going to look at that?” He snatched the phone from my hand, glanced at me, and started getting dressed. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment on his face at being caught by his wife. I knew his confidence came from his control over the family finances. Because I was the one being kept at home, even though I used to be a well-known pianist in the country before we married. I didn’t confront him about the photo. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Seeing he was about to go out, I quickly spoke up. “Arlo, I have something I want to talk to you about.” He fastened his belt leisurely and looked at me. “I have five minutes. The driver is waiting downstairs.” I guessed where he was going and my eyes darkened. “Arlo, I want to go out and work.” Arlo turned to look at me, staring for a while. Then he took out a checkbook from his pocket, wrote down a number, tore it out and handed it to me. “Isn’t it nice being a full-time housewife at home? Work isn’t suitable for you.” He was about to leave after saying that. I chased after him, taking a very humble stance. “I’m not afraid of hard work. I want to go out and work. I can play the piano.” The man had no patience to listen further. In his mind, I was like a delicate vine. Used to being taken care of, completely unsuited for working outside, and unable to endure hardship. Arlo looked at his watch. Time was up. He left this home without any reluctance. I couldn’t stop him, only managing to urgently ask as he gripped the doorknob. “My dad’s birthday is on Saturday. Do you have time?” Arlo paused. “We’ll see.” The door closed softly. A moment later, the sound of a car starting came from downstairs, gradually fading into the distance. A few minutes later, the housekeeper came upstairs. “Sir is going to H City for a few days. He said it’s for something important.” “Also, a batch of Sir’s clothes just arrived for washing. Madam, should we send them to the cleaners or would you like to hand wash and iron them yourself?” They knew my relationship with Arlo was strained. In this house, they were the messengers between Arlo and me. I knelt on the sofa, taking a while to come back to my senses before softly saying, “I’ll wash them by hand.” Because Arlo didn’t like the smell of dry cleaning solvents. So almost all of Arlo’s clothes, including suits and coats, were hand washed and ironed by me. Besides this, Arlo had high standards in other areas too. He didn’t like eating out, and he didn’t like any mess in the bedroom, so I learned cooking and flower arranging. He never took this wife to heart, only marrying me because of an accident. I gradually became the perfect housewife, and my life revolved almost entirely around Arlo. But Arlo still didn’t love me. I lowered my head and stared at the check. Last year my family business failed. My father suddenly fell ill from the shock, costing over six figures every month. Every time I went home, my stepmother complained that I took too little from Arlo. “He’s the CEO of Brown Pharmaceutical Group, worth billions.” “Grona, isn’t he your husband? Doesn’t that mean everything he has is yours too?” I smiled bitterly. How could anything of Arlo’s be mine? Arlo didn’t love me and was very cold to me usually. Our marriage only had sex, no love. He wouldn’t even let me have his child. Every time we slept together, he would remind me to take birth control. Yes, I had to take the pills. I felt for the pill bottle, took one out, and swallowed it numbly. After taking the pill, I gently pulled open a small drawer. Inside was a thick diary, filled with 18-year-old me’s deep love for Arlo. Ten years. I had loved him for a full ten years. I quietly closed my eyes. This one-sided play seemed like I could no longer keep acting it out. I didn’t wait for Arlo to come back. My dad had another acute attack and entered the ICU. The situation was very critical and he needed immediate surgery. I stood in the hospital hallway calling Arlo over and over, but no one answered after several tries. Just as I was about to give up, Arlo answered. Afraid he would lose patience and hang up the next second, I spoke rapidly: “Arlo, my dad—” But my words were still cut off by Arlo. His tone carried a hint of impatience: “Do you need money?” “I’ve said many times, if you urgently need money just ask Secretary Quinn. Grona, are you listening?” I looked up at the electronic screen, my expression dazed. It was playing today’s news. The CEO of Brown Pharmaceutical Group had rented out the entire Disneyland for a night of fireworks to please a beauty. Under the dazzling fireworks, a young girl sat in a wheelchair, smiling sweetly and innocently. And my husband Arlo stood behind the wheelchair. He was holding his phone, talking to me. I blinked slowly. After a long while, my voice carried a hint of brokenness: “Arlo, where are you?” There was a pause on the other end. He seemed very unhappy with my questioning, but still perfunctorily said: “Still busy. If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up. Contact Secretary Quinn.” He didn’t notice my near-tears tone, but his gaze looking down at the person beside him was very gentle, so very gentle. My vision blurred. So Arlo could be this gentle after all. My stepmother’s voice came from behind: “Did you get in touch with Arlo? If Arlo doesn’t help, there’s no way we can handle this.” But her words stopped abruptly, because she also saw the scene on the electronic screen. After a while, my stepmother finally found her voice again. “Grona, I just don’t believe that when Arlo was in a coma, this Maeve girl playing the piano could wake him up.” “Even if that’s true, is this how you repay someone? He can’t even remember your birthday.” My stepmother got more and more angry as she spoke. Thinking of the Grona family’s situation, she couldn’t help but shed tears. “But Grona, you have to be clear-headed. Don’t cause trouble with Arlo at a time like this.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, but I couldn’t feel any pain. Cause trouble with Arlo? I wouldn’t. Not because I’m a sensible Mrs. Brown who knows better. But because I have no right as the unloved wife. The title is just an empty shell. I stared at the sky full of fireworks and said very softly: “All those fireworks must cost a lot of money, right?” My stepmother didn’t understand what I meant. I lowered my eyes and started dialing Secretary Quinn’s number. Disturbing someone’s sleep in the middle of the night is always unpleasant. Secretary Quinn had been by Arlo’s side for a long time and held a high position. Moreover, he knew Arlo didn’t care about this wife. So after hearing my request, his tone was cold and aggressive. “Mrs. Brown, you need to apply first and have Mr. Brown sign off before you can get a check.” “Just like the jewelry you wear, it needs to be registered before use.” “Madam, do you understand what I mean?” I hung up the phone. I lowered my head, very quiet. After a while, I looked up at myself in the glass, gently raised my hand. On my slender ring finger was my wedding diamond ring. This was the only thing on me that didn’t need to be requested from Arlo, didn’t need to be registered and reported to his secretary. How pathetic I was as Mrs. Brown. I blinked dazedly and suddenly said: “Help me find someone to sell the wedding ring.” My stepmother was stunned: “Grona, have you gone crazy?” I slowly turned around. In the desolate lobby late at night, even my footsteps sounded lonely. After walking a few steps, I paused, then said firmly: “Auntie, I’m very clear-headed. I’ve never been this clear-headed before. I want to divorce Arlo.” Three days later, Arlo returned home. Arlo pushed open the bedroom door to see me sitting at the dressing table organizing items. He put down his luggage, loosened his tie, and sat on the bed examining me. After marriage, I always enjoyed doing housework, organizing things, making snacks. If I didn’t still hold the title of Mrs. Brown Group, in Arlo’s heart I was really no different from a housekeeper. For a long time I didn’t speak. Arlo was also tired from his business trip. Seeing I didn’t speak, he was too lazy to say anything. He went straight to the closet, took a bathrobe and went to the shower. While showering, he probably thought that with my weak personality, by the time he finished I would have calmed down. Then I would continue to be a gentle wife. He was so certain I would always love him like this. So when he walked out of the bathroom and found his suitcase still in its original place, he felt it necessary to talk to me. Arlo sat down on the sofa, casually picked up a magazine to read. After a while, he looked up at me and said: “How is your father’s condition?” “I’ve already reprimanded Secretary Quinn about that night.” He spoke lightly, without much sincerity. I put down what I was holding and looked up to meet his gaze in the mirror. In the mirror, Arlo’s features were deep-set and his aura was noble. Even a bathrobe looked better on him than others. I looked for a long time, until my eyes were sore, before saying very calmly: “Arlo, let’s get divorced.”

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A deadly heatwave swept across the city. My husband, ever so compassionate toward the single mother and her child next door, took all the purified water I had carefully stockpiled and gave it to them. When I confronted him, anger burning in my chest, he exploded, stomping his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “The taps still run, don’t they? Stop being so delicate! Are you really going to fight a kid over water?” Days later, the water supply was cut off. The neighbors, grateful only to him, offered him water but left me out in the scorching heat. Desperate and parched, I ventured out to find water, only to collapse from heatstroke and dehydration. My husband and the neighbor thrived. They used the very supplies I had hoarded, surviving together and eventually building a new life together. But fate had other plans. I woke up right before the heat wave hit. This time, my husband was once again dismissive of my preparations. I smiled sweetly, nodding as if he’d delivered the wisdom of the century. “You’re absolutely right, dear.” But in my heart, I vowed that this time, I wouldn’t lift a finger. Let him see how long they could survive without me.

“Severe heatwaves will continue sweeping the nation over the next two weeks. Residents are urged to stay alert, avoid going outdoors, and take precautions against heatstroke!” The familiar news alert sent chills down my spine. In my last life, I had collapsed from heatstroke and dehydration, left to die under the relentless sun. The memory of my skin burning came rushing back. I shuddered, trying to shake off the haunting images as I wolfed down ten popsicles in a desperate attempt to cool my body and mind. Then my phone rang. My husband, Liam Carter, barked at me before I could even say hello. “Jane! What’s your problem with Clara and her daughter now? Are you seriously picking on a kid who doesn’t even have a dad? How petty can you be?” His relentless accusations, devoid of logic or fairness, momentarily stunned me. No matter the situation, Liam always prioritized the mother-daughter duo next door. He was a doctor, and years ago, a friend had died of a heart attack while he stood helplessly by. Guilt-ridden, he had spent every day since trying to “make up” for it. That was how Clara and her daughter ended up living next door on his dime. Leaky pipes, clogged drains, a crying child… big or small, he was always at their beck and call. In my past life, I had taken the looming heatwave seriously. I had asked Liam to come with me to stockpile food and water. But when the time came, he brushed me off, saying he needed to spend time with their daughter, Mia. “You’re overreacting,” he had said, dismissing my concerns as paranoia. Frustrated, I texted Clara, asking her to let me have my husband for just one day. But my message only made her cry. Liam, ever the knight in shining armor, called me moments later to tear me apart over the phone. Left with no other choice, I went to the supermarket alone, battling the crowds of desperate shoppers for supplies. My arms were bruised and scratched by the time I hauled cartloads of goods back home. But before I could catch my breath, Liam had already ordered workers to deliver everything to the house next door. “Clara and her daughter are too frail to go out shopping,” he explained. “Think of this as a good deed; it’s good karma for you.” When the extreme heat made stepping outside unbearable, he didn’t hesitate to give our last five gallons of purified water to the neighbors. I confronted him, furious. “What about me? Do I not matter to you at all?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “There’s still water in the pipes, isn’t there? What are you, royalty? Fighting with a child over water, how selfish can you be?” By the sixth day of the heatwave, the pipes ran dry. When I went to Clara for help, she hesitated, biting her lip. “Jane, I’d really love to help, but we’re running low on supplies, too. It’s not that I’m being selfish, but Liam has done so much for us over the years…” I didn’t let her finish. “Don’t you dare! Those supplies are mine! I bought them!” But Liam didn’t care. He praised her for her “kindness” while berating me for being difficult. “Stop making things hard for her. If you need water, go figure it out yourself!” It was as if they’d both forgotten who had stockpiled the supplies in the first place. Without me, neither of them would have survived. Unable to argue or fight my way through, I left to search for water on my own, only to collapse and die in the suffocating heat. But this time? I wouldn’t be their scapegoat again. I decided to take care of myself. “Liam, you’re absolutely right,” I said sweetly, cutting into his tirade. He seemed pleased with my compliance. “Good. Mia has no dad, so I need to look after them. Don’t make things harder than they need to be.” I nodded along, keeping my tone docile. “Of course, I understand.” The moment I hung up, I wasted no time calling a real estate agent. If he wanted to play hero, fine. But I wouldn’t let him drag me down with him.

Extreme weather lays bare the true nature of people. I urged the real estate agent to quickly secure a villa in the suburbs, assuring them that price was no object. First, a pricier residence meant better security and more refined neighbors, an essential filter against potential threats when living alone. Second, the suburban location promised fewer people and better greenery, a perfect haven from the heat. The agent was efficient. The villa’s owner had settled overseas, ensuring no disturbances to my carefully planned month of survival. With the property secured, I wasted no time. I headed straight to the supermarket to stock up. In my last life, I had died of dehydration. This time, watching barrels of water delivered to the villa, I felt the weight in my chest finally ease. Truckloads of instant food, grains, oils, and meat soon followed, filling every corner of the house. Thankfully, the villa came equipped with large freezers, making food storage much easier. At the time, most people dismissed the importance of fruits and vegetables, deeming them too perishable. When they saw me loading cart after cart with fresh produce, their reactions ranged from scoffs to outright laughter. But I knew better. I turned the vegetables into pickles or froze them in the massive freezers. No one foresaw how vital these would become. Soon, fruits and vegetables would be the last viable source of vitamin C. The relentless heat would wither crops in the fields, leaving nothing but rot in its wake. For six long months, even after temperatures normalized, fresh produce would remain an impossible luxury. Many who survived the heatwave would later succumb to scurvy and its devastating complications, like brain hemorrhages. But food wasn’t my only priority. I also bought out the bulk of the city’s stock of blankets, down coats, hand warmers, candles, lighters, and matches. On top of that, I hauled in charcoal and firewood. While most people assumed that surviving the heatwave meant the worst was over, I knew better. Extreme weather was rarely an isolated event. It often signaled the arrival of other calamities. After my death in my previous life, my lingering spirit had watched as the city erupted in joyous celebration when the heatwave finally ended. But their relief was premature. Nobody saw what was coming next. Without warning, a week of utter darkness descended upon the earth. A once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon caused by geomagnetic disruptions kept the sun from rising. The darkness was suffocating, and the cold was unbearable. But it wasn’t the cold that broke people. It was the endless, maddening blackness that unleashed the ugliest parts of human nature. The city’s electricity grid, already strained from the heatwave, collapsed under the demand for heating. Solar panels and batteries were an option, but their limited capacity rendered them almost useless. Instead, the simplicity of candles and firewood proved far more reliable. I also stocked up on essential medicines from the pharmacy. To avoid drawing attention, I hired different drivers to deliver each truckload of supplies. It had been only two days since I began my preparations. Then, as if he’d suddenly remembered my existence, Liam called from next door, where he was happily playing surrogate father to Clara and Mia. “Jane, are you out partying so much you’ve forgotten your way home? Tomorrow’s going to hit 117°F! You’d better get out there and stock up on food and water for Clara and Mia before it’s too late!”

I found it laughable. Liam, who had spent the past two days practically living at Clara’s house, had the audacity to accuse me of neglecting my own home. Enjoying the bliss of playing husband and father to his “adopted” family, it seemed he had finally realized the looming danger of the heatwave. “Jane! Are you listening? Where are you? Go stock up on food and water before Clara and Mia starve!” His exasperated tone practically dripped through the phone. “Why can’t you be more like Clara? She knows how to take care of a family!” The irony wasn’t lost on me. Clara certainly knew how to “care” for a family, just never her own. And Liam had outdone himself with his double standards. When I prepared for the heatwave last time, I was “overreacting.” When I didn’t buy anything, I was “irresponsible.” It seemed that no matter what I did, I’d always be the villain in his eyes. A walking scapegoat for all his problems. He had probably despised me for long. After all, my existence prevented him from living with Clara and Mia. If that was the case, why not live life on my own terms? I didn’t bother arguing. “Didn’t you see my message? I’m out of town on business and can’t get away. Besides, the stores are almost emptied by now. Why don’t you and Clara try a few more places? You might get lucky.” I figured this would be my last act of kindness. After all, we had been married for years. Tomorrow, the temperature was set to soar to 124°F, hot enough to fry an egg on the pavement. For safety reasons, stores would close, and people would barricade themselves indoors. But Liam couldn’t care less. He was still preoccupied with doting on his “goddaughter.” “It’s Mia’s first Children’s Day since her father passed,” he said stubbornly. “Clara and I promised to spend it with her. If you can’t handle a simple task like this, don’t bother coming home!” “Oh, so I’m still your wife when you need a servant?” I thought. I rolled my eyes, hung up, and unwrapped a popsicle. Let him make his choice. Playtime or survival? I wasn’t about to save someone so determined to dig his own grave. The first day of the heatwave arrived, and the government announced a halt to work and school. Strangely, some people saw this as a cause for celebration. Under the searing sun, they danced and partied in the streets. It didn’t take long for the first person to collapse. Then, the second. And the third. Panic spread. People began to realize this wasn’t something worth celebrating. Animals lay dead on the streets, their bodies bloated and scorched. The stench of decay filled the air, forcing people indoors. By the second day, whispers of prayer and chants for salvation began to echo in the silence. Meanwhile, I sat in the guest room of my well-stocked villa, savoring delicious food with the AC on full blast while watching the surveillance footage. Then, I found out that Clara and Mia had already moved into my house.

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I had proposed to my childhood sweetheart, Brenda Schultz, countless times. It wasn’t until my 99th attempt that she finally said yes. But on that very day, another piece of news shot became a hashtag: “Dexter Greville, the once-proud heir to the Greville family who had fallen to the status of a servant’s son, proposed to Brenda.” In the news footage, my fiancée Brenda covered her lips with trembling hands, blushing as she accepted the ring Dexter offered her. Behind them, their parents and friends were all offering their blessings. What they didn’t know was that Brenda had also agreed to marry me. Later, Brenda shamelessly explained, “Dexter has cancer. I’m just playing along to make him happy.” However, when I left, she draped herself around Dexter’s neck and cooed, “I’ve set my wedding with Kendrick for three days from now. “I only agreed to his proposal, so I could see you try to stop it. Isn’t that romantic?” When I heard that, I finally gave up. I picked up my phone and made a call. “I’m getting married in three days. Are you coming? I need a bride.” On my wedding day, when I was preparing to marry another woman, Brenda lost her mind.

“Kendrick, can you stop being so unreasonable?” Brenda snapped. “Dexter has cancer. He’s dying! This is his last wish. I just want to make him happy! “You already took his place as the Greville heir. I’ve even agreed to marry you. What more do you want?” Brenda rushed back as soon as she got my call. Storming into the room, she yanked off her engagement ring and threw it onto the couch, her frustration spilling out. “Yes, I know you’ve suffered a lot in the past, but what does that have to do with Dexter? “Do you really need to take out all your resentment and anger on an innocent man?” I am Kendrick Greville. Dexter was my non-biological brother, and Brenda was the woman I’d been in love with for many years. When I was born, Dexter’s mother, Laura Ruiz, worked as a servant in my family’s household. Taking advantage of her position, she swapped me and Dexter. I was abandoned in the countryside and grew up as a penniless orphan, while Dexter became the pampered heir to a wealthy family. Perhaps out of guilt, Laura adopted me, but she never treated me kindly. My childhood was a nightmare. She would beat me over nothing, whip me with thorn-covered switches, and in the dead of winter, she would throw me out, bruised and shivering, without so much as a sip of warm water. During those bleak years, Brenda was my only source of light. She was my neighbor. Her mother was a gambling addict, and her stepfather was a violent drunk. Whenever they fought, she became their punching bag. I would stand in front of her to shield her from the blows, and she would often sneak food to me when I was starving. We supported each other through those long, harsh years. When my true identity was revealed, and I returned to the Greville family, I brought Brenda out of that miserable environment, too. I insisted on making her my girlfriend, supported her financially, and provided her with an education. I spoiled her, turning her into a refined and affluent lady. She once cupped my face with tears in her eyes and told me I was the light of her life. She said she couldn’t live without me. That’s why I never understood why she always hesitated and found excuses every time I proposed to her. But now, I finally understood. I realized my fiancée had fallen in love with the servant’s son who had stolen my life.

As I watched Brenda’s impatient expression, a dull ache began to rise in my chest. Instead of answering her questions directly, I reached out and smoothed her disheveled hair. “Do you remember what you said to me when I returned to the Greville family?” Even after regaining my rightful identity, I never truly became part of the family. My parents preferred the son they had raised themselves. When the truth came out, Dexter faced no consequences. They still took him to social events, and the dinner table was always filled with the dishes he loved but would trigger my allergies. Back then, Brenda would hold my hand tenderly and tell me, “It’s okay. Even if the whole world doesn’t love you, I will. I’ll always stay by your side.” But now, even the one person who had stood by me had switched sides. Brenda frowned slightly, avoiding my hand as a flicker of unease crossed her face. “I remember,” she replied reluctantly. “Of course I do, but… “Dexter’s situation is dire. We should prioritize his need.” Perhaps realizing she’d been too harsh, she softened her expression and spoke gently, “Don’t worry. I only said yes to Dexter to give him some comfort. The person I’m marrying is still you.” But I knew she was lying. Even though her words professed love, the impatience in her eyes and her thinly veiled resistance told the truth. I realized that she no longer loved me. Brenda’s phone buzzed on the table. Dexter’s face appeared on the screen, but she quickly covered it up, saying evasively, “It’s probably my parents asking about the wedding arrangements. You should go prepare…” She paused briefly, then added with a meaningful look, “I’ll give you a surprise on our wedding day.” With that, Brenda left in a hurry. I frowned, uneasy. I felt something was off, so I followed her. As I’d suspected, she drove away in a rush and headed to a private suite. When I reached the door, I heard laughter inside. Someone said, “Dexter, are you really planning to crash the wedding that day?”

Inside, Brenda sat beside Dexter. Dexter toyed with her fingers, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “I always keep my promises. Don’t you think so?” Their friends burst into laughter, chiming in, “We just don’t get it. If you’re going to be together, why make Brenda accept Kendrick’s proposal? Isn’t all this a hassle?” I knew his reason. Because I had taken his place as the Greville heir, Dexter was determined to take away the one person I cherished most. He had fooled my parents with his innocence and deceived Brenda with excuses, but he couldn’t fool me. Of course, Dexter didn’t admit any of this. Instead, he said dramatically, “Crashing the wedding is romantic, isn’t it? “It makes our love story more epic. Don’t you think so?” Their laughter erupted again. Someone turned to Brenda and asked, “Aren’t you worried Kendrick will be furious? Running off with Dexter at the wedding would publicly humiliate him. No man could tolerate that.” Brenda leaned into Dexter’s arms, gazing up at him shyly before replying, “I’ll do whatever makes Dexter happy.” Upon hearing this, I felt my heart sank. Their laughter became a cruel mockery of me. Stumbling backward, I staggered out of place, dazed. Images of Brenda blushing as she accepted Dexter’s ring and their schemes for the wedding flashed through my mind. The cold winter wind cut through me, seeping into my bones. I closed my eyes, but their words echoed in my ears. They said, “Mr. and Mrs. Greville also know about this. “They agreed because they wanted to fulfill Dexter’s last wish. “With Dexter’s parents on your side, what’s there to worry about?” Now I understood why my parents had attended Dexter’s proposal. No one truly loved me. To them, I was merely a steppingstone for Dexter’s happiness. My parents and my friends were all the same. I used to think Brenda was different. But after twenty years together, after all the love I’d given her, she had said, “I’ll do whatever makes Dexter happy.” I thought, “Then let me grant them their wish.” A loud car horn jolted me back to reality. I opened my eyes and found myself standing in the middle of the road. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the ache in my heart aside. Finally, I made a call. “I’m getting married in three days. “Are you coming? I need a bride.”

In order to create the dramatic effect Dexter wanted, my wedding was arranged to be exceptionally grand. My parents even arranged for the media to broadcast the event live. Our relatives and friends, well aware of the underlying tension, were ready to witness the spectacle of a dramatic wedding crash. Everyone assumed I was oblivious to the scheme. Brenda arrived early and changed into her wedding gown. In the private area designated for wedding preparations, she and Dexter enjoyed themselves with passionate sex. When I arrived, she emerged from the room, her face flushed. The sight of me startled her, and she stammered nervously, “The light in the room went out. I was scared of being alone, so I called Dexter to help fix it.” Feigning ignorance, I nodded in acknowledgment. Brenda flashed me a smile and slid her arm through mine. She pressed the wedding ring into my palm. “When we’re up there, kneel down and slip this onto my finger, okay?” I knew this was part of their carefully crafted plan. Dexter intended to burst onto the scene just as I was kneeling to propose. He wanted to snatch Brenda away in the most dramatic fashion possible. That was their idea of romance. I agreed, and as Brenda smiled contentedly, preparing to leave, I stopped her. Looking straight into her eyes, I asked, “You once said I was the light of your life. You said you couldn’t live without me. Was that true?” She froze for a moment. We had been together for so many years that whatever passion we once shared had long since withered. I doubted she even remembered her own promises. Forcing a smile, she replied half-heartedly, “Of course. Now hurry up and get ready. The ceremony is about to begin.” I watched her retreating figure and couldn’t help but smile bitterly. I wondered if her old promises ever held any truth.

The wedding began with elegant music drifting through the venue. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Brenda approached me with a smile. But I could tell her anticipation wasn’t to be my bride. Her gaze lingered on Dexter, filled with unspoken anticipation. When it was time to exchange rings, the entire room held its breath. Dexter stared at me intently, poised to step in and execute his plan. Brenda extended her hand to me, the romantic melody shifting into a more suspenseful tune. But I didn’t move. Brenda grew impatient, whispering urgently, “Kendrick, what’s wrong? Put the ring on me!” Still, I said nothing. In the audience, my father stood abruptly, his frustration evident. “Kendrick, what are you doing? Everyone’s waiting!” As I remained motionless, whispers of confusion spread among the guests. Brenda, now visibly flustered, gave me a reproachful look. “Kendrick, what’s the matter with you? Isn’t this what you wanted? Today is our wedding! Everyone is watching. Don’t humiliate me like this!” I let out a weary laugh. So, they were aware that disrupting the ceremony would humiliate the couple involved. Yet they went ahead with their plan, anyway, caring little for my dignity. Once the murmurs of the crowd subsided, I finally spoke, “I’m sorry, but my bride hasn’t arrived yet. Could we wait a little longer for her?” Brenda’s face paled with disbelief. The audience erupted in shock, unsure of what was happening. Just then, the hotel doors burst open. A familiar figure, wearing a dazzling wedding gown, strode in. “Kendrick, I’m here to marry you!”

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It’s 11 PM, and my wife still hasn’t come home. I call her, and she mumbles something about a company party, saying she can’t get away. I don’t call her out on it. I silently watch as my wife of 5 years, whom I’ve known for 9, enters a bar arm-in-arm with another man. “I think it’ll be a few more hours. Don’t wait up for me, go to bed,” she says hurriedly before hanging up. Tonight marks the 11th time this month she’s come home late. It’s also the last chance I’m giving her. At 4 AM, Claire finally returns. For the first time, she rushes straight to the bathroom to shower. The clothes she casually tossed on the couch are missing the stockings she wore when she left. I let out a bitter laugh, grab her clothes, and throw them in the washing machine before preparing some hangover pills for her. “Jack, you’re the best!” Claire suddenly hugs me from behind. Her voice is still sweet and melodious: “You’re up so late and even prepared hangover pills for me. You’re going to spoil me!” I’m not as enthusiastic as I used to be and coldly push her away. “Just take the pills.” “Your stomach isn’t good. If you drink without taking hangover pills, you won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Claire smiles and, like an obedient kitten, leans on the table to drink some water. She rambles on, “Work’s been so busy lately. If it’s not overtime, it’s company events. I probably won’t even get a break this weekend. It’s exhausting…” I remember she said the same thing last week. Worried about her irregular meals, I went to bring her lunch, only to discover she had never worked overtime. Her empty desk had only a photo frame with a picture of her and Zack. Her colleague said she hadn’t changed it in years. “If you’re that tired, just be honest about it.” “Huh? Honest about what?” Claire’s watery eyes suddenly widen. “About you and Zack. Isn’t it exhausting to lie every day? Drinking until this late and still having to come up with excuses for me seems unnecessary.” I point to the pills, telling Claire to remember where they’re kept so she can find them herself next time she drinks. “Jack, stop it!” “What are you doing? Are you leaving me?” Claire grabs my arm and hugs it, her eyes turning red. Years of marriage make me hold back from lashing out: “I can’t keep a woman whose heart I couldn’t warm in 9 years.” “What nonsense are you talking about? I’m not that kind of woman!” Claire lets go of my hand and glares at me angrily: “Haven’t I explained it to you? Zack and I are just friends. He just came back from abroad and doesn’t have a place to stay or a job yet, so I’ve only met him a few times to help him out.” “Can’t you act like a man? Stop being so jealous for no reason. It’s really unattractive!” She frowns, looking disgusted. The last time I caught her lying about meeting Zack, she gave a similar excuse. But if they’re just friends, why does she keep lying over and over? Why does she come home later and later? I let out a bitter laugh, unable to hold back anymore. “Then let’s get divorced. Go find your ‘attractive’ Zack!” Her childhood sweetheart, whom she hasn’t seen in years, is nothing but a deadbeat who lives off his parents and spends his days and nights in bars and clubs. Yet somehow, she’s still drawn to him. “Divorce?” “Jack, stop acting like a jealous woman! Just because I came home a bit late, you’re talking about divorce? This will only make me hate you!” Claire grabs the water glass and smashes it on the ground. “I’m your wife, not your pet. You don’t get to control who I hang out with!” “Instead of watching me like a hawk every day, why don’t you focus on improving yourself?” After shouting, Claire storms into the guest room and locks the door. The heart I thought couldn’t hurt anymore suddenly aches again. She has a weak stomach, so I’ve cooked for her every day for 9 years. She has a princess complex, so I never forget to give her gifts on every holiday. Whatever she wants, I work myself to the bone to get it for her. But even so, I can’t replace her childhood sweetheart’s photo on her desk. “Sigh… Let it be.” I take a deep breath and start packing my bags. “Jack, it’s been so long. Why haven’t you come to comfort me yet?” “In the past, no matter how angry I got, you’d never leave me alone for more than 10 minutes.” “Do you really not want me anymore?” Looking at the messages Claire sent, I can imagine her tear-stained, pitiful face. I think back to last month when she lied about working overtime on a weekend. I saw her cuddling with Zack in a 24-hour bar, intimately embracing. At that moment, I seemed to go crazy and rushed over, grabbing Zack’s collar and demanding to know who he was. Claire panicked and pushed me away, firmly shielding Zack. “He’s my good friend! If there’s anything to discuss, let’s do it at home. Don’t make a scene and embarrass Zack here!” Her determination to protect Zack was just like how I used to protect her. Afterwards, she left with Zack, abandoning me, her husband, on the spot, like a joke watching his love walk away hand in hand with another man. That time, I first thought about divorce. But as soon as I brought it up, Claire locked herself in the guest room, crying and wailing. She said I was the one she loved most, and she only hid her meeting with an old friend because she didn’t want me to be angry. She said she had some drinks and her stomach hurt badly. After 9 years of love, my heart instantly crumbled at her tears. So I believed her one last time. But… There won’t be a second time. “Jack, you know I’m not asleep. Why aren’t you coming to comfort me?” “I really haven’t done anything to betray you with Zack. I won’t hide it from you when I meet him in the future, so you won’t be suspicious anymore.” “My stomach hurts again. Can you bring me another hangover pill?” When Claire came to me with teary eyes, I was writing her a note. It had recipes for her favorite foods. The dates of her menstrual cycle. The location of her stomach medicine and the dosage for each time… She never paid attention to these trivial life details, used to being pampered and cared for by me. “Didn’t I already tell you where the medicine is?” I handed her the note I’d written: “From now on… you’ll have to learn to take care of yourself.” Claire froze, not reaching out to take the note. I simply placed it on the table, stood up, and grabbed my suitcase to leave. Only then did she react, gently pulling at me, her red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears: “You even packed your bags? Do you really not want me anymore? Are you really divorcing me?” Her tears fell. In the past, when she cried like this, I would inevitably soften. But this time, I just calmly said: “Yes, Claire. I gave you chances. But now, I’ve had enough.” With that, I pushed her hand away without a hint of lingering attachment. “Enough, Jack! How many times do I have to tell you? Zack is my best friend. I haven’t betrayed you or done anything inappropriate!” Claire suddenly shouted out of control: “Yes, I’ve been closer to him, and we did have a relationship in the past, but that’s all in the past.” “If I really couldn’t let him go, why wouldn’t I just divorce you and be with Zack?” As she spoke, she angrily pushed me. The broken glass shards from earlier hadn’t been cleaned up, and I stepped on them, unable to react in time. They pierced through my shoe and deeply into the sole of my foot. Blood slowly seeped out, like a mirror reflecting my tall but thin figure. For these 9 years, I’ve treated Claire as the most important thing in my life, working myself to the bone to give her a better life, and taking on all the housework after getting off work. Without realizing it, my back had become slightly hunched from exhaustion. “I guess it’s because you’re used to being taken care of by me, treating me like a housekeeper…” Other than that, I couldn’t think of a second reason. “No, Jack, that’s not it.” “I’m with you because I love you. I can’t leave you…” Claire’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke, crouching down to examine the wound on the sole of my foot. There seemed to be a hint of concern in her eyes. “Jack, I’ll go get the first aid kit and bandage it for you.” Claire stood up and ran to the living room, but just as she opened the TV cabinet, her phone rang. She immediately forgot about my injury and ran to the bathroom to answer. The voice on the other end was loud, and I could tell it was a drunk Zack. “Do you have any money left, Claire? I couldn’t sleep because I missed you so much, so I went to the bar for a few drinks. But I accidentally drank too much and don’t have enough money…” As soon as Zack finished speaking, Claire rushed out of the bathroom, her eyes full of urgency as she ran to the entrance to change her shoes. Opening the door, she remembered me and gave me a casual glance. “Jack, can you bandage it yourself? I have an urgent matter to attend to, something very important.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Go ahead, remember to drink some warm milk when you come back. You’ve been drinking and haven’t slept all night, your stomach will—” She didn’t even have the patience to listen to me finish and hurried off to Zack. It was clear who was more important in her heart. The blood on the sole of my foot spread again, forming the shape of a blood flower. As if mourning our completely dead marriage. Goodbye, Claire. I pushed my suitcase, waved goodbye to the home we’d lived in for 5 years, and left without any regrets.

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After My CEO Girlfriend Let Her Assistant Take My Project, I Quit, and the Company Went Bankrupt After securing a big project for the company, I received a ring from my girlfriend, Pamela Carlson. Overjoyed, I posted it on Instagram, thinking that she was finally ready to announce our engagement. But then, my girlfriend’s new male assistant, Russell Burnett, slapped me across the face and flipped my desk. He said, “Scott Hebert, you’re the director for crying out loud! Stealing a gift meant for me from my wife, do you have any shame?” Not only did my girlfriend not defend me, but she also said I wasn’t worthy of my position and publicly announced that her assistant would be taking over the project I had just landed. It was then that I realized. The person my girlfriend wanted to announce wasn’t me but him. Soon, the whole company was watching, phones in hand, enjoying the spectacle. But I wasn’t angry. Instead, I calmly shoved my ID badge into the assistant’s arms. I said, “So, you’re the president’s worthy partner now. I’ll consider the director position as my apology. Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.”

Seeing my unexpected reaction, a colleague shocked me by pulling me aside and whispering, “Don’t act impulsively. It’s just one project. We can always negotiate another.” But he didn’t know I wasn’t acting on impulse. The day before, I had overheard my girlfriend’s assistant talking to her in her office. He said, “Pamela, I want to make a name for myself. If you hand me this new project, I’ll make sure it succeeds, and you’ll be impressed.” At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I had been Pamela’s secret boyfriend for seven years. I turned down offers from big companies to help her start this one. I was the one who brought in 90% of the projects for the company, and she knew how hard it had been for me. She was a principled person and would never mess with something as serious as a project. Besides, she had once lost a project to people who used flattery to climb the ranks. She hated that kind of behavior. So, when I received the ring from Pamela, I thought she had finally realized that I was the one for her and was ready to settle down with me. I had no idea that Russell would turn the tables on me, accusing me of stealing and humiliating me in front of everyone. I also never imagined that Russell, who had only been with the company for a few months, could make Pamela abandon all her principles for him. At that point, I figured I had nothing left to stay for there. Pamela still didn’t realize that their childish plan had been exposed. She thought I was just being jealous. She suddenly furrowed her brow and looked at me. “Why are you acting so dramatic?” Ever since Russell came into the picture, she had started looking at me with suspicion. I didn’t bother to argue anymore. I simply said, calmly, “I really did give it to him.” I had given him both my girlfriend and my position. I wasn’t planning to stay any longer. Just as I was about to leave, Pamela coldly grabbed my arm and pulled me into her office. The company was not large, and the office soundproofing was not good, either. As soon as she closed the door, the employees outside, who had been watching, started chatting excitedly, praising Russell and asking when they’d be getting married and having kids. Russell shyly replied, “Having kids is tough on the woman. I can’t decide when that’ll happen.” He acted like he was Pamela’s real boyfriend, and with her tacit approval, the employees believed it without question. Pamela, sensing my silence, paused while pouring water. Realizing that she owed me an explanation, her usual strong tone softened as she said, “Russell’s just kidding. He doesn’t know any better. He was just joking around, don’t take it seriously. He has relatives at Nebula Group, and it’s thanks to him that we got this project.” I looked at her, speechless. What a joke! Nebula Group, the main client, had its own professional technical department and never needed to outsource. From the start, they had rejected the collaboration. It was me, stubbornly insisting and trying everything I could, sending gifts, begging for meetings, that finally got a chance to talk with the project manager. He generously gave me thirty seconds to present our product. After seeing my capabilities, he offered me a high price but couldn’t poach me, which was when he agreed to the deal. I had been working overtime, running around day and night for the project, but she saw none of it. Russell casually mentioned his relatives, and she believed every word. If she had just thought for a second, she would have understood clearly that if Russell really had those connections, he wouldn’t be working as an assistant in this small, rundown company. Or maybe she understood everything but was just pretending to be clueless. Seeing that I didn’t speak for a while, Pamela looked down for a moment and then stood up and made me a cup of coffee. She leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “We’re just acting. The person I’m really going to marry is you.” In the past, every time we argued, when she softened her tone and made promises, I always forgave her. So, she probably thought it would be the same this time. With a casual wave of her hand, she said, “Get back to work. I’ll take care of the project.” But what she didn’t know was I no longer wanted her. I pushed my chair back, stood up, and said, “No need to make a big deal out of it. I’ll just leave.” With that, I pulled out my resignation form, quickly filled it out, and, without hesitation, turned and walked out of the office.

When Russell saw me leaving, he rushed over, blocking my way, and said with a pretend look of grievance, “Scott, I know you’re an expert. You’re right, I’m not fit for the position of tech director. I’ll give it back to you.” He grabbed his ID badge and tried to push it towards me. I just gave him a light push, and he stumbled, falling over the chair and knocking over the computer, causing a commotion among the colleagues around us. Russell quickly got up. Facing the concerned looks from his coworkers, he waved his hand with a smile, saying it was no big deal. Pamela, startled by the noise, hurried over in her four-inch-high heels. After confirming that Russell was fine, she furrowed her brows and glared at me. “Scott, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’re an old employee.” The colleagues around us immediately started to chime in, “Yeah, Scott, the changeover is for the company’s growth. Don’t use your seniority to bully the new guys.” The harshest words came from Alan Jordan, whom I had trained. “It’s just a few projects. Do you really think you are the boss now? You’ve gotten addicted to forming cliques, huh? You can’t even respect a genius like Russell?” We had worked together for many years, and I was the top sales performer. In the past, everyone would respectfully call me Scott whenever they saw me. Now, they all watched me with glee, hoping I would leave right away. It didn’t matter. Let them say whatever they wanted. I wasn’t going to play along anymore. I left the company without saying a word. Pamela hurried after me. When she saw that there was no one else around, she rubbed her forehead and said, “You’ve just been working too hard lately. I’ll approve some time off for you. Take a break. Today is the seventh anniversary of our relationship. Stay home and wait for me. I’ve prepared a surprise for you.” As she finished speaking, the elevator arrived, and I stepped in without saying a word. At home, I made myself something to eat. I didn’t wait for her, and she didn’t come back until it was dark. I put on my shoes and tidied up before heading out to meet the client. On the way, I ran into a colleague. The boy was a bit slow on the uptake, so he didn’t distance himself like the others. He greeted me cheerfully. “Scott, you’re going to Mr. Burnett’s promotion party thrown by Ms. Carlson, right? Let’s go together. We’ll split the cost of the ride.” He was excited about not having to take the subway anymore, but I shook my head and said, “No.” He gave me an awkward glance and asked, “Didn’t Ms. Carlson invite you?” I shook my head indifferently and walked away. I faintly heard him muttering, “Pamela really does protect her men.” But I didn’t turn around. She never defended anyone except Russell. For Russell, she would do anything, even stand me up, which wasn’t a one-time thing. When I was hospitalized with pneumonia, she said she would visit after a meeting, but I waited until morning before she finally showed up. She claimed she had been working late, but in reality, she had been watching a movie with Russell. Not long ago, we had planned to take a couple’s photo shoot. I waited in my suit until the store closed, and then she casually strolled in, saying work had delayed her. In fact, she had been shopping with Russell, picking out some clothes for him. There were countless similar incidents. Every time I questioned her, she would scold me, saying, “Work is more important.” This kind of relationship was just exhausting. At the café, the head of the client team looked at the progress I had submitted and couldn’t stop praising it. “Scott, have you ever thought about switching jobs? Your salary could multiply tenfold.” This time, I didn’t refuse. The client head was happy to hear my response and said we could discuss any conditions I had. After the meeting, I went home. Pamela had already packed the food and was sitting on the sofa waiting for me. Once again, she was late. In the past, she would offer excuses, but this time, she didn’t say a word. After a brief silence, she pushed the food box toward me. “You must be tired, don’t cook. Just heat this up and eat.” I looked down at the food. The plastic container held a mix of different dishes, unappealingly thrown together. There were stir-fried and boiled dishes and even a piece of pie soaked in soup. It was obvious that they didn’t finish the food, and she packed it up carelessly. She hadn’t even bothered to pack the food separately, just shoved everything into one big box. It was so unappetizing. I waved my hand. “No need, I’ve already eaten.” Pamela gave me a long, deep look. Her usual coldness gave way to a rare moment of softness as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Sorry. He just got promoted, so I had to make an appearance as his boss. I know you’ve had a tough day, so let’s go get our marriage certificate this weekend.” Ha! It sounded so sweet. But when I got promoted to director, I was so happy that I threw a celebration for myself. I eagerly sat in the private room, waiting as the waiter reheated the dishes five times. By the time the restaurant closed, none of my colleagues had shown up. The messages I sent out were met with silence. Some kind-hearted colleagues quietly asked if I had offended the CEO. I was confused at the time, but later, I found out. While I was away from the office, she coldly scolded every colleague who had planned to attend the dinner. “Is the workload too light for you? Got too much free time? Always thinking about food, drinks, and fun. Are you all that useless? You’re just wasting the company’s money. You’d be better off leaving now!” Thinking back on it, I pushed her hand away from my waist, which had been groping me, and said coldly, “No need for that, Pamela. Let’s break up. ”

The atmosphere in the room instantly froze. Pamela gasped, her controlled emotions finally spilling over. “I’ve sacrificed all this for the company’s growth. Other people’s boyfriends would be happy, but you just don’t get it!” I didn’t bother with her twisted logic. She continued talking about how important the company’s development was, and how, once the company went public, I’d have a place in it. I was sick of hearing it, so I raised my hand to interrupt her. “I don’t need that. I’m packing up and moving out now.” Pamela had been the boss for so many years, and it was the first time her words were interrupted. Her face turned bright red with anger. She glared at me for a long while before letting out a cold snort. “No need. I’ll just leave!” With a bang, she slammed the door behind her. I didn’t chase after her. I quietly packed my things. The client had arranged a free, luxury single dorm room for me, and I could move in at any time. Just as I finished packing, I called the moving company. By the time most of my stuff was moved, I happened to run into Russell dropping Pamela off at home. They walked side by side, fingers interlaced, chatting and laughing. Pamela, usually cold and distant, was now looking down with a soft smile, standing next to Russell with the look of someone who was relying on him, the image of a gentle and obedient woman. Russell was the first to notice me and deliberately tightened his grip. Pamela, sensing something was off, followed his gaze and saw me. She quickly pulled her hand away. She walked up to me, ready to explain as usual, but when she saw me loading my things into the car, she froze for a moment before asking, “Where are you going so late?” Really? Couldn’t she see the moving company’s big sign on the side of the van? I was about to continue moving my things when Pamela blocked my way, suddenly shoving a bag of clothes into my hands. When I didn’t move, she took the clothes back and held them up to me. “I know you’ve been busy and haven’t had time to buy clothes. I passed by the mall and picked these up for you.” Bought for me? I wore XL sizes, but this brand of shirt was an M. On the receipt from the bag, the last four digits of the card used to pay were Pamela’s, and the total came to over ten thousand dollars. This wasn’t just a casual buy, was it? She probably picked it out for me while shopping with Russell. She was really generous. Just two days ago, I bought a 200-dollar shirt and asked her if it looked good. She’d scolded me for wasting money and lectured me for over an hour about how hard it was to make money. She even said no matter how nice my clothes were, they weren’t as important as real ability. So, what was this now? Money was easy to make, huh? I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked at them coldly. “No need. As the saying goes, a person is judged by their clothes, a horse by its saddle, and a dog runs happily with a bell. You can keep such an expensive gift for Mr. Burnett.” Russell paused when he heard this, and after a long moment, he suddenly threw the shirt down in anger. “You dare insult me?” His eyes were red as he glared at me and rushed toward me, ready to strike. I stayed where I was, and with one slap, he fell to the ground. “Not just that, I’d dare to hit you, too.” Russell was as thin as sticks. The only reason he could hit me earlier was because I was caught off guard. Now, I gave him a slap right back. Pamela screamed and rushed to hold Russell her face full of concern. “Scott! Let’s talk this out! Why are you hitting him? If you’re leaving, then leave, but don’t come back!” She didn’t need to say more. I wasn’t planning on returning. I turned around, got into the moving truck, and drove off toward a new life.

After I left, I directly joined the client’s company and was entrusted with an important role. Back at Pamela’s company, as the client, I was welcomed by the receptionist. As I walked into the office area, I saw Russell, now wearing a director’s badge, walking confidently between the employees’ desks, giving orders. “Make this logo a bit bigger but shrink that part. I didn’t say pure black. I meant the kind of iridescent black like a crow’s wings. “After looking at it again, the first version is still better overall. But I like the font from the seventh version, and the color from the sixteenth. Get it to me by the end of the day.” The office was filled with tension and frustration. Someone couldn’t hold back and retorted, “This design was approved by the client a long time ago. The main issue now is the program’s stability.” Russell snorted, “The client is just a nouveau riche. Does he even understand what true art is? I’m the one overseeing this, with my top-tier aesthetic sense. The client will definitely be satisfied. Maybe if he’s happy, he’ll even give us a bonus.” Please! Our company developed a new system just to make life easier for users, not to host an art exhibition online! And besides the colorful, illegible text, were they trying to contribute to the ophthalmology department at the hospital? With Russell’s level of work, it was no wonder the results were getting worse. The program crashed as soon as it started, and the quality had drastically fallen apart. A colleague spotted me, and the hostile glares I once received were now replaced with looks of desperation. As for Alan, the employee I had trained who used to talk big, he had been kicked out of the core team and was now relegated to fetching coffee with his own money. Russell gave me a contemptuous glance. “I guess I should recommend to Ms. Carlson that we need a security position. Otherwise, anyone and everyone will just waltz in.” The receptionist bent over, about to remind him to be careful with his words since I was representing the client. But before she could say anything, Pamela strutted by in sky-high heels, clearly thinking I had come to apologize. She scoffed, “Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Hebert! Realized how tough it is to find a job now, so you’re back, huh?” Russell let out a chuckle and said in a seemingly kind tone, “I’ve always believed in Scott’s abilities. I think we can offer him a supervisory role. If he works under me, it won’t take long before he’ll make a name for himself.” Pamela crossed her arms, looking at me with disdain. “A supervisor? He’s not even close to being worthy of that! He can come back, but he’ll have to start from the bottom as an entry-level employee, with half the salary and no performance bonuses.” The other colleagues gasped, quickly distancing themselves from me, afraid the bad luck would rub off on them. I couldn’t hold back a laugh. Pamela still had no idea that I had transformed into her client, no longer that obedient little follower. Pamela raised an eyebrow, curious. “What are you laughing at?” I quietly pulled a contract out of my briefcase and slapped it onto the table. “Let me reintroduce myself. I’m Scott, the Director of the Technical Department at Nebula Group. I’m here to inform you project suspended, and contract terminated.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295335”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring