When I was a kid, a newlywed couple moved in next door. My parents were warm and welcoming, and after our families became close, Jennifer Thompson, the gentle and kind lady next door, would often bring me little snacks. Her sweet nature immediately made me like her. As the years passed and I hit my teenage years, I began to grow curious about relationships. I spent a lot of time at their house and often saw Jennifer taking care of her baby. Her curvy figure naturally became the source of my daydreams, and she firmly planted herself in my mind. But one time, while I was watching Jennifer feed her child, lost in thought, her husband caught me staring. He whispered something to her, and I saw her blush immediately. After that, he made up an excuse to send me home. From that point on, I felt that Jennifer started to distance herself from me, and the closeness between our families slowly faded away. This growing distance didn’t change how I felt. In fact, it only made me like her even more. When I was nineteen, during my first summer break from college, their marriage hit the rocks, and one day they had a huge fight. I saw Jennifer run out, crying, and head for the rooftop of the Westwood Apartments. I was really worried she might do something drastic, so I followed her. When I got to the rooftop, I found Jennifer huddled in a corner, sobbing uncontrollably, her whole body shaking. Seeing her like that broke my heart. I hated her husband at that moment—how could he not appreciate such an amazing woman? I summoned all my courage and approached her. “Jennifer, don’t cry. That man isn’t worth your tears.” She looked up, surprised to see me there. Seeing her face covered in tears, I couldn’t bear it. I don’t know what came over me, but I blurted out, “Jennifer, don’t cry! He doesn’t deserve you!” “What…?” Jennifer looked at me in shock. Gathering more courage, I dropped the formalities. “Jennifer, why don’t you just divorce him? When I graduate, I’ll marry you!” She was stunned, looking at me in complete disbelief. “What are you talking about?” she finally asked. “I… I like you!” I said, my heart racing. I had no idea where this boldness came from, but I’ll never forget the look of shock on her face. “You’re just a kid. You don’t understand anything,” Jennifer said as she stood up, trying to leave. But just as she passed by, I grabbed her hand. “Let go!” she demanded, her face flushed with embarrassment as she tried to pull away. “What are you doing?” “I…” I was so nervous I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t know why I was being so impulsive, but in that moment, I made a bold decision. I pulled her into a hug and kissed her.

That kiss was my first, but it wasn’t sweet. Suddenly, Jennifer bit my lip. “Ouch!” I yelped in pain, immediately letting her go. Before I could say anything else— “You little jerk!” Smack! Jennifer slapped me hard across the face and ran off, crying. That slap snapped me back to reality. I was filled with regret, constantly replaying the scene in my head, asking myself, What the hell did I just do? I was terrified she would tell my parents or, worse, her husband. I couldn’t go home that night. Instead, I spent the entire night on the rooftop, too scared to face anyone. It wasn’t until late that night that my worried parents came looking for me. Jennifer came along with them. “Luke, what’s gotten into you?” my mom asked, panicked. “Luke, don’t scare us like this! Sure, you didn’t get into your dream college, but life is long…” They assumed I was upset about not getting into the college I wanted and thought I was in a dark place. Their concern was touching, but all I could think about was Jennifer. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. When our gazes met, she quickly looked away and left without a word. But I knew—she hadn’t told anyone about what happened. When I started college, I ended up dating a girl named Amy Summers. She was from the same city as me, and we went to school together. It didn’t take long for us to become a couple. For a while, I thought I’d moved on from Jennifer. But when I came home during the summer break, things next door had gotten worse. The fights between Jennifer and her husband were getting louder and more frequent. I could even hear the sounds of things breaking. Suddenly, all the memories of Jennifer came flooding back. I realized I had never truly forgotten her, and every moment we shared was still etched in my mind. At dinner, I casually asked, “What’s going on with Mr. and Mrs. Thompson? They seem to be fighting a lot lately.” “The seven-year itch, maybe,” my dad said with a shrug. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” my mom chimed in, shaking her head. “It’s because he failed at his business.” “Business?” I asked. “Yeah, he and a friend tried to start an import/export company, but it went under. They lost everything and now owe tens of thousands.” My mom added, “I even saw a realtor showing their house earlier today—they’re selling it to pay off the debt.” Hearing this, I felt awful. I wanted to help her. That night, I reached out to a friend, and we found summer jobs. My parents were supportive, seeing me so motivated. At the end of the month, I earned my first paycheck—$2,800. Most people would probably use that money to treat themselves or buy something nice. But I stood in front of their house, pacing at the stairs, clutching that money in my hands. When her husband left the house, I knocked on the door. Jennifer answered, looking exhausted. “What’s up?” she asked when she saw me standing there. “I…” I couldn’t help but think back to that night on the rooftop, and my face turned red. I handed her an envelope filled with cash. “Jennifer, I’m sorry for how I acted before. I was immature. I know your family is struggling financially right now. I earned this money working this summer—please, take it.” I stuffed the money into her hands and bolted back to my house. Little did I know that this simple gesture would change everything between us—and turn me into a man.

After giving Jennifer the money, I rushed home and tried to sleep early that night. But I couldn’t. The next morning, when my parents had left for work, the doorbell rang. “Who is it?” I asked as I opened the door. Jennifer stood there, looking at me with a soft smile. “You silly boy,” she said, handing me back the envelope of money. “I appreciate your kindness, but you need to keep this.” I tried to refuse, but she wouldn’t hear it. As we both tugged at the envelope, I accidentally brushed against her. My face flushed instantly. She, too, stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say. “If you keep this up, I’ll get mad,” she finally said, trying to stay serious. “I just really want to help you get through this,” I replied earnestly. “You’re such a sweet boy. If only he were half as thoughtful as you…” Her words trailed off, and I could see a deep sadness in her eyes. Seeing her like that tugged at my heart. For a moment, the air between us was still. Neither of us said anything. Finally, I stammered, “Why don’t you come in and sit down for a while?” “I can’t take the money, though,” she insisted, handing the envelope back. I didn’t push it. Instead, I invited her inside. She sat down on the couch, looking around. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in your house.” “Yeah,” I agreed with a smile. “Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Coffee?” “You have coffee?” she asked, surprised. “I do. I picked up some while working at the grocery store. Let me make you a cup.” “Thanks,” she said with a nod. I went to the kitchen and brewed her some coffee. When I brought it back, she took the cup, but instead of drinking, she stared at it for a moment before placing it on the table. “Time flies, doesn’t it? I remember when we first moved here, you were just a little kid. And now, you’re about to finish your second year of college,” she said softly. “Yeah, I’ll be twenty soon,” I replied. “Your birthday’s coming up, right?” “Yep. My parents are throwing a small party for me next Sunday.” Jennifer looked at me with her usual warmth. “Do you want anything special for your birthday? Maybe I can get you a gift.” Hearing that, my heart skipped a beat. “I’d just like you to come to the party. I don’t really need a gift.” “Are you sure?” Jennifer smiled gently. “You don’t want anything else?” “Well…” I hesitated. Given her financial situation, I didn’t want to burden her with getting me a present. But deep down, I still wanted something from her—it would mean more to me than any other gift. Before I could figure out what to say, she stood up and said, “I’ve never seen your room before. Mind showing me around?” “Sure,” I replied without thinking, leading her to my room. “Sorry for the mess,” I said awkwardly, glancing around. When I turned back to look at her, I was shocked. Jennifer was leaning against the door—and she had locked it behind her.

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During my annual paid vacation, I was lounging in a private hot spring pool when a waiter brought me a small cake. I casually complimented him, “Your service is excellent. Do you offer this to all guests?” The waiter informed me that the sweet treats were only provided to female guests or couples staying at the hotel. The small fork in my hand slipped into the pool. My husband, Gregory, always brought me a similar triangular cake every time he returned from a business trip. My intuition told me he was having an affair, and that woman didn’t like sweets. My name is Zoe, and I’m a jewelry sales department manager. I’m well-versed in business acumen and have been successful in my own investments in recent years. My husband, Gregory, was my college classmate. He persistently pursued me for three years from freshman to junior year before I finally agreed to date him. He studied art and wasn’t well-off in any aspect. Even his job as a sales consultant was one I helped him secure. But what I liked about him was that he was not only handsome but also gentle and loyal. Now, however, I stared at the small cake in my hand, speechless for a long time. He would bring back such a triangular cake after every business trip, claiming it was a gift from the hotel. Since single male guests generally don’t receive such treatment, it’s highly likely that a woman was staying at the hotel with him. I’m frugal by nature and usually take high-speed trains directly to clients when discussing business, returning home the same day because I care about my family. Even when I stay at hotels, I choose ordinary ones. Gregory, on the other hand, uses the excuse of company reimbursement to stay at these luxurious homestays. When I shared my suspicions with my best friend Rachel, she first expressed surprise, then analyzed the situation for me: “That’s impossible, right? You two have been together since college, weathering storms for so many years, from school uniforms to wedding dresses. You should investigate thoroughly before jumping to conclusions.” I frowned and nodded. To be honest, I was also questioning whether I was being overly paranoid and making wild guesses. Regardless, I still needed to test Gregory. My best friend runs a nail salon and is quite clever with words. While I’m well-versed in business circles, I’m not as adept at understanding human nature, so I asked for her advice. Rachel pondered for a long time and sent me a message on SnapChat the next day with her plan. “Didn’t you say he often goes on business trips? The person he’s cheating with could very well be his colleague. We could try to catch him in the underground parking lot after work.” I agreed with her suggestion. Indeed, if they were staying at hotels together during business trips, it was likely a female colleague. So, on the day Gregory was to finish work, I deliberately called him to inform him that I would be shopping with my best friend that evening and wouldn’t be visiting him at work. “Alright, honey. I’ll go home and wait for you after work,” he replied. His tone was as affectionate as ever, the gentle voice almost making me think I was being overly suspicious. That evening, in the underground parking lot, my best friend and I sat in her car, waiting. Soon enough, Gregory came out of exit 2 as usual and headed to his parking spot. A young woman was with him, and their behavior seemed intimate. The woman, in particular, was clinging to his arm, pressing her ample bosom against him. My lips quivered slightly as I clenched my fists. Sure enough, he was having an affair with a young female subordinate. “Well, well. Has he forgotten that when he had no income at first, he ate and drank at your expense? Even this job was found by you. How dare he be unfaithful to you?” my best friend scoffed. Indeed, Gregory came from a poor background, while I was from a well-off family. We were originally from two different social classes. Our union naturally met with strong opposition from our parents. Back then, to date him, I made a bet with my parents, swearing that I would definitely be happy. But reality had slapped me hard in the face. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my fingers aching, as I continued to watch the scene before me. However, unexpectedly, although the young girl kept pressing herself against him, he politely declined her advances and pushed her away as she was about to get into the car. He said, “I’m sorry, but I’m a married man. Please maintain a proper social distance from me in the future.” His voice wasn’t low. Especially in the empty underground parking lot, his words rang out clearly. Even I could hear them distinctly from inside the car. The young woman seemed to angrily stamp her foot before turning and leaving without looking back. My best friend breathed a sigh of relief and comforted me, saying, “See? He doesn’t seem to be cheating. That woman was probably just having a one-sided crush.” A one-sided crush… I didn’t believe it. Such a fair-skinned, beautiful long-legged beauty was exactly the type Gregory liked. When I returned home and was changing my shoes in the entryway, Gregory, who had come back early, gently hugged me from behind. “Happy anniversary, darling,” he said, hanging a diamond necklace around my neck. I was a bit surprised, as I’ve always been more fond of diamonds due to my years in the jewelry business. I shrugged off his hands, determined to confront him directly. So I said, “Who was that woman who almost got in the car with you?” Gregory seemed quite surprised but still explained calmly, “Oh, you mean Fiona? She’s the boss’s mistress. Even if I were willing, the boss would kill me if he found out.” Seeing my brow relax slightly, Gregory leaned in to embrace me and whispered in my ear, “In my heart, there’s only room for you, my dear wife.” Everything had been explained perfectly, leaving me speechless and with nothing more to ask. However, his embrace no longer held the familiar warmth I knew; it only made me feel a chilling coldness. The sweet and normal scene before me seemed too perfect. Was it really just me overthinking things?

My suspicions stemmed from my lack of confidence in our marriage. As a career-oriented woman with a DINK (Double Income No Kids) mindset, I didn’t want children. This led to opposition from Gregory’s family when we got married. My mother-in-law, Susan, came from China and had deep-rooted traditional beliefs about continuing the family line. Gregory was the only child in the Gu family, so naturally, they were unwilling to agree. “It’s not like you can’t have children. What’s wrong with giving me a grandson to take care of?” she would say. However, I stubbornly refused to change my mind. It seemed like this marriage was about to fall apart, teetering on the edge of collapse. But at this point, Gregory surprisingly went to the hospital and had a vasectomy for my sake, standing up to his mother. This shocked and moved me deeply. “Mom, look at the hospital results. I can’t have children now, so it doesn’t matter if I marry Zoe,” he told her. His mother was so angry her lips trembled, and she was about to perform her high blood pressure fainting act right there. In fact, I knew she didn’t actually have high blood pressure; it was always just an act to manipulate people. But since what’s done was done, she couldn’t say much more and could only watch helplessly as we happily entered into marriage. To date, we’ve been married for three years, adhering to our DINK lifestyle without children, living in our own little world. However, I could sense that my mother-in-law extremely disliked me and was always sharp-tongued and nitpicky at home, constantly finding fault with me. “A hen that doesn’t lay eggs, what use are you!” she would say. Due to my guilt towards Gregory, I had always been patient and filial towards my in-laws, never showing any disrespect. After a night’s sleep, I looked at my still-sleeping husband beside me in the morning and suddenly felt a pang of guilt. He treated me so well, almost perfectly. What more could I ask for? So when I got up to go to work, I was reinvigorated and felt refreshed. Back at the company, I received news that the new set of jewelry up for bidding was actually a rare royal collection piece! I was almost ecstatic. This was definitely going to be a big profit. I had some spare savings and wanted to seize this opportunity to invest, so I decisively requested to buy one of the bracelets. After negotiating the price with the company leaders, I bought one of the bracelets for $2.08 million. Upon returning home, to express my filial piety, I gifted this bracelet to my mother-in-law, Susan. However, she merely frowned: “Oh my, why give me this useless thing? It’s neither edible nor drinkable. You know, I’d only be happy if you gave me a chubby grandson!” I pursed my lips, about to mention the price of the bracelet, but the words got stuck in my throat, and I eventually swallowed them. At least I had shown my sincerity; it was up to her to appreciate it or not. To celebrate the first S-grade jewelry set of the year, I spontaneously invited my best friend out for dinner. This time, we went to a members-only restaurant with no menu; everything depended on the chef’s mood that day. Rachel seemed a bit nervous, perhaps because it was her first time in such a place. When I poured her some wine, she quickly refused: “I took some antibiotics earlier, so I can’t drink alcohol. I’ll just have some juice.” I nodded understandingly. Before all the dishes were served, more guests arrived, all seemingly well-mannered upper-class individuals. Rachel was visibly uncomfortable, mainly because her clothes were cheap market goods, making her feel out of place. “Oh my, I feel so embarrassed in these clothes. Let me go to the restroom and put on some jewelry. I won’t feel comfortable eating otherwise.” I nodded in agreement, watching her hurry off to the restroom with her bag. When she returned, she indeed had several pieces of jewelry on and had even carefully applied lipstick. I teased her, “My lady, you don’t need to put on lipstick just for a meal—” At that moment, as my gaze wandered, a jade bracelet on her wrist caught my attention. It was clearly the bracelet from my jewelry set. There were only two bracelets in that set: one bought by the boss, and one I bought and gave to my mother-in-law. “That bracelet of yours… is nice,” I frowned. Rachel casually waved her hand and said, “Oh, I can’t afford real jewelry. This was a gift from someone. It’s probably just a cheap imitation.” There’s no such thing as a perfect piece of jewelry. When I was examining the bracelet earlier, I had noticed a flaw on the inside. This was also the distinguishing feature between the bracelet I bought and the one the boss bought. Seeing my expression suddenly turn serious, my best friend’s demeanor gradually became flustered.

Perhaps it was inexplicable guilt that made her act this way. Halfway through the meal, my best friend received a phone call and hurriedly said she had an urgent matter to attend to before leaving. I maintained my composure and smiled, “Do you need me to give you a ride?” Rachel waved her hand, “No need, Zoe. Someone’s coming to pick me up.” Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows on the high floor of the restaurant, I watched as she didn’t wait for anyone to pick her up as she had claimed, but quickly got into a taxi under the bright street lights. I felt confused, vaguely sensing that an even bigger conspiracy was waiting for me, so I quietly followed her in my Porsche Cayenne. Her destination was my company. It was the same place where I had sold the jewelry a couple of days ago, and also Gregory’s workplace. He should be working overtime at this hour. Rachel was very cautious. After arriving at the company building, she put on a black mask, looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then quickly entered the building. I narrowed my eyes and quietly got out of the car to follow her into the company. It was 9 PM, and the company corridors were pitch black. As I fumbled my way up, only one office had a dim light on – Gregory’s. I held my breath and quietly approached. Through the crack in the door, I witnessed a scene that almost made my eyes pop out of my head.

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“Dad! I… I’m over here!” “Nicky, cover your nose and mouth, stop talking.” By the time my son and I realized the building was on fire, the flames had already spread too far. All we could do was hide in our room. My husband, Ethan Cole, was the one leading the rescue team today. When Nicky and I saw him from upstairs, we thought our savior had arrived. I had texted him the hotel address and our room number before we went on the trip. But when Ethan made it to our floor, he passed right by our room and went straight to the next door—to rescue Allison and Lucas. Nicky couldn’t hold it in anymore. Crying, he asked me: “Mom, Ms. Allie is here too… and Dad only cares about them… Is he going to leave us again? Mom, I can’t… I can’t breathe… it’s too hard…” The room was full of smoke. Nicky was only five years old, and he was starting to lose strength. Frantically, I wet a towel and covered his mouth and nose, hugging him as I rushed to the door. “Ethan! Nicky can’t hold on much longer, please save us!” “Ethan, I’m begging you!” Just this once, could he turn around and look at us? Ethan passed right by our door again. I screamed at him, my voice raw and breaking, but he didn’t even stop. Through the roaring flames, all I could hear was him speaking softly to Allison. “Don’t worry, Allie. I’m here. You and Lucas are going to be okay.” The smoke was choking me, clouding my thoughts. I tried to cover Nicky’s ears, but it was too late. His eyes were filled with tears, and his pupils had already begun to fade. “Why… why can’t Dad ever see me?” “I… I yelled so… so loud…” Cough cough “Mom… I’m sorry I can’t… stay with you any longer…” “In my next life, Mom… please… give me a different Dad… okay?” Nicky’s hand went limp as he finished speaking. My mind went blank, a buzzing silence filled my head, leaving me with nothing but the sensation of nails being driven into my chest, the pain unbearable. I struggled to my feet, clinging tightly to his little body, tears flooding my eyes uncontrollably. “Okay, Mom will listen to you. Just don’t sleep, Nicky. Please, hold on a little longer. Mom’s going to get you out!” Thick smoke was everywhere. I couldn’t even see Nicky’s face anymore. The floor was scorching hot, and so was the door. Flames were eating away at my body, burning me and my son together. How much pain must my baby be in? I sobbed, trying desperately to put out the flames on his small body, but nothing worked. The smoke was overwhelming, and the fire was too big. When I couldn’t walk any further, I crawled. But it felt like the hallway was endless. In the end, it was the other firefighters who came and found us, pulling us out and taking us to the hospital. Ethan brought Allison and her son to the room next to ours. But just like at the fire, with a single wall between us, he never noticed Nicky and me. His whole world was consumed by Allison and her son. The doctors wanted to take me away to treat my burns. I refused. I knelt on the floor, begging them, over and over again, to save my son. “He’s just really tired. He’s only sleeping. Please, save him!” The doctors sighed as they took Nicky into the ER. The defibrillator shocked his little body again and again, but he never opened his eyes. One of the doctors said, “The child suffered a lot in the fire. Don’t make him suffer any more in death.” Yes… Nicky was always so afraid of pain. How could he bear this? I was severely burned all over, so I called my brother, Daniel, to handle Nicky’s funeral and to start the process for my divorce from Ethan. The divorce papers were ready the day I was injured, and I signed them immediately. But I couldn’t reach Ethan. His phone was off—just like it was the day of the fire. Then it hit me. He’d blocked me again. Whenever he was with Allison and Lucas and didn’t want to deal with me, he would block my number. When he was in a better mood, he’d unblock me. I’d put up with this for six years, but at that moment, I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and disgust. Daniel went to the funeral home to arrange Nicky’s service, leaving just me and a nurse in my hospital room. I asked the nurse to help me into my wheelchair. I needed to go see Ethan next door. I couldn’t stand this ridiculous marriage for even one more second.

The room next door was a private room too. I come from money, and with my monthly salary of $20,000, I never needed to rely on Ethan’s income. With the little he makes as a firefighter, it’s a struggle just to support our family, let alone afford a private room for Allison and her son. They’d barely been singed by the fire, with only some smoke stains on their faces and a few minor burns, but Ethan was doting on them like it was the end of the world. I thought about Nicky’s charred, unrecognizable little body, and my chest tightened so painfully that I could hardly breathe. It’s true, love makes all the difference. “Ethan Cole!” I gritted my teeth, spitting out his name. Ethan turned his head to look at me, the smile on his face vanishing instantly, his brow furrowing. “Rachel, who said you could come in here? Get out!” I wore a hat and mask to cover my burns so I wouldn’t scare anyone. But I was in a hospital gown, sitting in a wheelchair—anyone with half a brain could see I wasn’t in good shape. Yet Ethan seemed blind to that. All he cared about was that I might disturb Allison and her son’s recovery. He immediately got up to push me out of the room, not forgetting to scold me on the way. “I’ve told you a thousand times, Allie and I are just friends. How many more times do I have to explain this? Her husband passed away years ago, and she doesn’t have any family to help. Can you stop being so petty and jealous every time?” I’ve heard these lectures so many times that I’ve grown numb to them. Allison didn’t have a husband, but she had Ethan. I had a husband too, but it felt like I didn’t. When the water pipes in our home burst and soaked through the downstairs ceiling, Ethan was at Allie’s house, changing her lightbulbs, telling me not to rely on him for every little thing. In the end, it was Derek Shaw who helped me. When I got into a car accident, Ethan was with Allie, helping her pick out baby clothes, telling me to stop causing problems. When Nicky had a high fever in the middle of the night and started seizing, Ethan stayed at Allie’s place, comforting her son Lucas, who had been scared by a horror movie, and told me not to make such a big deal. These kinds of things happened over and over again. Looking at Ethan now, standing there so righteously, I felt a wave of nausea. I didn’t even want to waste a word on him. “You sign these divorce papers, and I’ll leave. You won’t have to worry about me bothering your happy little family anymore.” I shoved the divorce papers toward him. But Ethan thought I was just trying to cause a scene. He didn’t take the papers, just said irritably, “When Allie and Lucas are better, I’ll come home. Can you stop with this nonsense?” He always promised me the same thing, but this time, I had no hope left: “If you don’t sign, I’ll have my lawyer take it to court. And by the way, Nicky’s funeral is in six days, you…” Before I could finish, Allison groaned softly from inside the room, “Ethan, it hurts…” “Don’t worry, I’m coming!” Ethan replied urgently, full of concern. Without even asking about his own son’s funeral, he rushed back into the room. I stared at the closed door, feeling like a thousand knives were stabbing me in the chest. I don’t even remember how I got back to my room—just the suffocating tightness in my lungs that wouldn’t let up. Ethan didn’t ask a single thing about Nicky, not even up until the day of the funeral. Even when the service was about to start, the father of the child still hadn’t shown up. The guests started whispering to each other— “Where is the father? Why isn’t he here yet?” “I heard he’s at the hospital with some woman and her kid. That woman’s supposed to be his ex.” “Still, how could he miss his own son’s funeral? That’s outrageous—this was his son!” Everyone looked at me with pity in their eyes. Some people, worried I might break down, came over to comfort me. I thought of all the times Nicky had looked at his dad with hopeful eyes, always waiting for him to spend time with him. It felt like thorns were crawling up my throat, every breath laced with pain. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into the blisters on my palms. The sharp pain was the only thing that helped me hold back the flood of anger. This was Nicky’s final farewell to the world. I couldn’t let it be ruined. I turned to my brother. “Dan, call Ethan. He’s blocked me again.” Dan’s face darkened as he dialed Ethan’s number. He got through quickly. “Ethan, today is Nicky’s funeral. You…” “Rachel, when are you going to stop? Allie and her son are in the hospital with burns and infections, and I’m here taking care of them, doing what’s right. Can you stop being so bitter and seeing everything as dirty? Did you really think you could lie to me about Nicky’s death just to get my attention? Unbelievable.” Ethan was angrier than I was. He hung up the phone right after saying that. No wonder he hadn’t reacted at all when I told him Nicky had died… He thought I was making it up. I’d been accused of being irrational and jealous so many times before, but this time, I was shaking with fury, too stunned to even speak. Ethan had been shouting so loud that Dan, standing right next to me, had heard everything. Dan grabbed the phone from me and sent Ethan a picture of Nicky’s death certificate, then called him again. Each word came out of his throat like a growl. “Ethan, do you see it now? Nicky has been dead for a week. You haven’t shown your face once, and you have the nerve to call yourself his father? Are you even human?!”

Dan had already said everything that needed to be said. Anyone with half a brain would know that Nicky’s funeral wasn’t some sick joke. I thought that once Ethan understood the truth, he would apologize, feel guilty, regretful. But instead, he hung up the phone without a word. He didn’t show up—not even after the funeral ended. I spent the entire service trying to hold myself together. I don’t remember who was there or what they said to me. Nothing registered. All I could do was sit in my wheelchair, staring at Nicky’s gravestone with his smiling picture on it, haunted by the sound of his voice, echoing in my ears. “Mom, it hurts so much!” “Mom, didn’t Dad know which room we were staying in? Then how did he remember Ms. Allie and Lucas were in the room next door?” “I yelled so loud, Mom… Why couldn’t Dad hear me? Mom, are we going to die?” Those words played on repeat, over and over, like invisible threads wrapping tightly around me, trapping me in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. After the funeral, Dan took me straight to the emergency room. The burns on my body had become severely infected after spending so long outside. I had a high fever, and my mind was foggy, drifting in and out between reality and dreams. All I could remember was someone holding my hand and saying, over and over, “Rachel, don’t fall asleep!” When I finally stabilized and was moved to a regular room, ten days had already passed. Ethan was sitting by my hospital bed, his eyes ringed with exhaustion, his face unshaven. He looked nothing like the man I once knew. When he saw me wake up, his face lit up with relief. “Rachel, you’re finally awake! I…” As soon as I saw him, all the anger, the despair, the suffocating pain I’d been holding in exploded inside me, threatening to crush me. Slap! I sat up, gritting my teeth, and slapped Ethan hard across the face. How dare he show his face here?! His cheek swelled immediately, and his eyes filled with bitterness. “I know I should have gone to Nicky’s funeral. That was my fault. If you’re angry, take it out on me, but don’t keep it bottled up—it’s bad for your health.” Allison stepped forward, her face pale as she dropped to her knees in front of me. With a single blink, tears began streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, Rachel. If you need someone to blame, blame me. Lucas had a heart attack that day, and I was terrified. Ethan was just trying to take care of us, and that’s why he missed Nicky’s funeral.” “This is all my fault. You can hit me if you want, just please don’t ruin your marriage because of me!” Allison grabbed my hands and pressed them to her face. She had pulled this act so many times before, and every time I never knew how to respond. But this time— Slap! I slapped her across the face, and when that wasn’t enough, I slapped her again, harder. “You’re disgusting! Truly disgusting! Out of all the men in the world, you had to go after one that was already taken? Does stealing someone else’s husband make you feel good about yourself?” I was ready to hit her a third time when Ethan, face flushed with anger, grabbed my wrist. “That’s enough! I’ve told you a thousand times, Allie and I are just friends! She’s a single mother with no one else to help her. Why do you have to turn this into something dirty?” I yanked my hand out of his grip. I didn’t even have the energy to argue with him anymore. I just pointed toward the door, full of contempt. “Get out.” “Rachel, how can you treat Ethan like this? He’s only trying to…” Allison still tried to play innocent. I grabbed whatever I could reach and hurled it at them both. “Get out! Both of you!” Ethan looked at me with a complicated expression, but soon, he turned and shielded Allison as they left the room. I used to feel heartbroken watching scenes like that. Now, I just felt numb.

I was raised in a wealthy family, while Ethan Cole came from humble beginnings as a firefighter. We should never have crossed paths. But one night, my best friend, heartbroken from a breakup, dragged me out to a bar to drink. The bar caught fire, and in my most desperate moment, Ethan found me and risked his life to save me. He was handsome and had just saved my life. I became infatuated with him. When I found out he was single, I pursued him relentlessly. It took a while, but he eventually agreed to date me, and soon after, he proposed. Ethan was always a gentle man. He smiled at everyone and never let anyone or anything get under his skin. No matter how strange or chaotic the situation, he always remained calm. When you first met him, you’d think he was an open book—easy to approach. But over time, I realized just how hard it was to truly connect with him. After we got married, Ethan handed over his entire paycheck and took care of all the housework. Everyone said I’d married the perfect husband. But to me, his kindness felt more like politeness. Even when we were intimate, it felt like he was just going through the motions—like a duty. It was as if there was an invisible barrier between us. I thought he was like that with everyone. That is, until Allison came back from overseas after her divorce, and for the first time, I saw Ethan lose control. It was our wedding anniversary, but Ethan took the day off from work to spend it with Allison, and he didn’t even come home that night. That’s when I found out Allison was his ex-girlfriend. They’d started dating in middle school and were together for nearly ten years. They were deeply in love. Their families disapproved, though, and in the end, they were forced to break up. Ethan told me that Allison’s husband had passed away, and she was struggling to raise her child on her own. He was just trying to help her out, and he swore he’d never done anything to betray me. I believed him. And that’s why I lost so completely. I forgot that betrayal isn’t always physical infidelity. After Ethan left, he flooded me with messages—paragraphs of text, one after another. I didn’t bother reading a single one. I blocked his number and his social media and called my brother, Dan, to have him fire Allison from the company. At the time, I didn’t know she was Ethan’s ex. I’d heard she was a struggling single mom, and since she worked in media, I thought I was being generous by giving her a job at my company. Looking back, I’m sure plenty of people must’ve had a good laugh at my expense. The day after Allison got fired, Ethan came storming into the hospital. He was furious, his brows knitted together. “Rachel, if you want to be mad at me, fine! I can handle that. But firing Allie just because I’ve been helping her? You’re letting your jealousy get the better of you. She still has to provide for her son—how could you do this to her?” I stared at him coldly. “It’s my company. I can fire whoever I want. If you don’t like it, feel free to find your precious Allie a new job. I’m not stopping at firing her. Every penny you spent on her while we were still married—I want it back.” Be considerate of Allison? I was. And look where it got me. She was one step away from sleeping in my bed with my husband! Ethan’s face darkened. “Rachel, I’ve told you time and time again—I’ve done nothing to betray you. Allison is my ex, but I only see her as a friend now!” “Friend, friend, friend…” I was so sick of hearing that word. And sick of his self-righteous attitude. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “A friend more important than me and Nicky?!” “Nicky’s funeral was ten days ago, Ethan. If you cared even a little about me and our son, you’d know that he died in room 1217—right next to Allison’s room!” “Nicky screamed for you. He begged for his father while watching you break protocol, ignoring our room so you could save another woman and her child!” “I’m not asking you to favor us over them. But you could’ve at least asked if there was anyone else in the room when you saved them. Or maybe not tell the other firefighters that the floor was clear! If you had, Nicky might still be alive!” I was shouting, hysterical, pouring out all the anger and pain that had been festering inside me. Ethan just stood there, the frustration on his face fading into something dull and lifeless. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His eyes were suddenly full of pain and fear.

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years. My hair was cut short, my skin tanned from years spent in the sun. After the fire, my voice had become raspy. To most people, I probably looked like a man. After a long silence, I raised my hands toward him. The bracelet he gave me when we were teenagers still clung to my wrist, now dull and tarnished with age, just like the memories we once shared—buried deep and covered in dust. Adam hesitated before pulling out the handcuffs and locking them around my wrists. Without a word, he grabbed me and began walking. His long strides made me stumble as he dragged me to where his car was parked. He threw open the passenger door and tossed me inside like luggage, slamming the door shut behind me. He got in the driver’s seat, started the car, and floored the gas pedal, kicking up a cloud of dust in our wake. Confused, I looked around. “Why are you alone? Don’t cops always work in pairs?” Adam’s face was tight with anger, the veins on his forehead bulging. He stayed silent for a long time before his voice, shaky, broke the quiet. “Adele, why did you kill him?” The mountains blurred past us, the light filtering through the trees casting shifting shadows across his face. I looked down at the bright metal of the handcuffs around my wrists, tears welling up. “Adam, it wasn’t supposed to be like this between us.” How did it come to this? One wrong step, and everything just kept going wrong. There was no turning back now.

I first met Adam in early April, during a cold and rainy day. That evening, Grandfather Wright had invited a few officials from Southview High School and the local education department to dinner. It was late by the time we were done. The streetlights were dim, and the air was chilly. The bus approached slowly through the mist. I folded up my umbrella and helped my elderly grandfather board the bus. The seats were full, and he couldn’t reach the handrails, so he held tightly onto me. He had always been a proud man, valuing reputation above all else. But that night, he’d swallowed his pride, humbling himself before others at the dinner, just so I could have a better shot at getting into school. The thought of it made my heart ache, and I felt tears prickling at my eyes. “Don’t cry. Take my seat.” A deep, raspy voice startled me. I looked up to see a thin young man in a black baseball cap. I couldn’t make out his eyes, but his nose and jawline were sharp and defined. He stood up, offering his seat, and I quickly helped Grandfather Wright sit down. I turned to thank the young man, but he had already disappeared into the crowd. About thirty minutes later, we arrived at the bus depot. The rain had picked up, transforming into a downpour. I held an umbrella in one hand and supported Grandfather with the other as we struggled through the wind and rain. “Need a hand?” The voice came again, and I looked up to see the same young man. He lifted the brim of his cap, revealing clear, kind eyes. “The rain’s too heavy. If you don’t mind, I can carry him the rest of the way,” he offered. It was him again. Surprised by the sudden offer, I quickly nodded. “Thank you, that’s very kind.” Without hesitation, he bent down and lifted Grandfather onto his back, his steps steady and calm. I held the umbrella as high as I could, tilting it to shield him from the rain. We reached our apartment building not long after. “Which floor do you live on?” he asked. “Fifth… but it’s fine. I can help him from here,” I said, embarrassed. Before I could finish my sentence, he was already climbing the stairs, still carrying Grandfather. When we reached our door, Grandfather insisted he stay for tea until the rain stopped, but the young man politely declined. “I just moved in too. I live on the fifth floor as well, so it’s no trouble at all,” he said. His firm refusal left no room for argument, and Grandfather eventually gave up trying to make him stay. But we wanted to at least know where he lived. “510,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. It was the apartment at the end of the hall. Later, I made some ginger tea and went to thank him. When I knocked, a middle-aged man opened the door. “Who are you looking for?” “Hello, sir. I’m looking for your son. He helped us earlier—” Before I could finish, the man snapped, “Son? I live alone. Are you crazy?” And with that, he slammed the door in my face. I was stunned. The mysterious young man never revealed where he really lived, leaving behind nothing but a good deed, vanishing into the rainy night like a stranger passing through. In this vast world, we crossed paths for just a moment. And who knows if we would ever meet again.

A month later, I was admitted to Southview High School. In class, I introduced myself, “Hi, my name is Adele Wright.” The room immediately filled with snickers. “Ha! Her accent’s so weird!” “She sounds so country.” The chatter grew louder. I glanced up and, in the crowd, I caught sight of a familiar face—Adam Collins. My heart skipped a beat. He crossed his arms, looking at me with indifference, as though he didn’t know me at all. I sat down, slinging my backpack off my shoulder. Growing up in a different part of the country, I had a thick accent, and I wasn’t strong in my basic knowledge. Every time I answered a question, the class would whisper and laugh behind my back. During one break, a boy mimicked my accent, adding exaggerated gestures, twisting his mouth, crossing his eyes, and flailing his arms. He said I looked like a fool who had come to town for medical treatment. The group erupted in laughter, thoroughly entertained—until a loud bang rang out. The boy toppled over, chair and all. At the same time, a chalkboard eraser flew through the air and smacked him square on the head. Adam stood nearby, hands in his pockets, looking down at the boy. He asked, “Is this fun for you?” “Adam Collins, you—!” The boy was half a foot shorter than Adam and didn’t dare retaliate. He stood there seething, setting his chair back up. When he saw the chalkboard eraser lying at his feet, he glared around the room, teeth clenched. “Who threw that at me?!” “It was me.” I stood up from the front of the class, meeting his gaze as I said, slowly and clearly, “From now on, every time you mock me, I’ll hit you.” He was stunned, not expecting me to fight back. When he recovered, he sneered, “You? You think you can beat me?” “I don’t have to win. But unless you kill me, I won’t stop.” Adam turned his head toward me, surprised, studying me with a thoughtful expression. The boy hesitated, unsure if fighting me would make him look weak, or if Adam’s presence was too intimidating. His face flushed with frustration, but in the end, he backed down and sat quietly. After that, no one mocked my accent again. That night, when I got home, I carefully wrote two words on my notebook: Adam Collins. What a strange twist of fate. Back then, I had no idea that this person, who seemed like a blessing in a hostile world, would become the reason I took steps down a path I could never return from.

At the end of the semester, my exam results weren’t great. I ranked somewhere in the lower middle. In the hospital, Grandfather gently stroked my hair and smiled, “Pleasant Grove’s schools aren’t as good as Southview’s. You started late, so it’s a wonder you did as well as you did.” His gaze grew distant as he spoke, lost in memory. With a long sigh, he said, “You were such a mischievous little girl. Climbing trees, crawling through fences, pulling on my beard when I napped, getting into trouble every other day! Your grandmother and I used to worry—wondering what you’d grow up to be. What man would ever want to marry you? But as you got older, you got softer, started caring about how you looked, even got shy when I scolded you. It hurt me so much to see you cry.” He paused and smiled again. “I keep remembering when you first learned to walk. You were always laughing, though we never knew what was so funny. You’d wobble around with your little round belly, falling every other step… and now, here you are, a grown woman. It feels like just yesterday you were that tiny baby.” His rough hand brushed my cheek as he squinted, trying to get a clearer look at me. His voice was raspy when he asked, “Adele, do you still blame your dad?” A lump formed in my throat. Grandfather had been growing more confused lately, mixing up the present with the past. He thought I was his daughter. “I don’t blame him. Not at all,” I said, burying my face into his chest. “Dad, I’m so glad I’m back with you.” That night, Grandfather passed away. On the day of the funeral, the sky was overcast and misty, the kind of weather that makes it hard to tell if it’s dawn or dusk. The cemetery was on a mountainside, with ancient trees looming in the fog. The path was muddy, and I led the way, carrying the urn, with my uncle and his family following behind. My little cousin, too young to grasp the gravity of the situation, came up beside me and asked, “Hey, is Grandpa really inside that box?” “Yeah.” “How did such a big person fit into such a small box?” My throat tightened, and I suddenly remembered Grandfather’s words: “You were just a tiny baby, and now you’re all grown up.” My chest felt heavy, like it was stuffed with cotton, and even though it was hard to breathe, I couldn’t stop the sadness from rising up inside me. My aunt hurried over and pulled my cousin away. “Don’t touch that! It’s bad luck!” My uncle’s face darkened. “What are you saying? That’s my dad!” “Well, you didn’t bother to show up when he was in the hospital. Now you act all loyal?” she snapped. “He should’ve been kept in the funeral home. But no, he insisted on being buried next to your mom, who’s been gone for so long she’s probably already been reincarnated! And here we are, spending all this money on a professor who clearly lost his mind in his old age. Oh, by the way, how much did we get in funeral donations?” “I haven’t counted yet.” “There was one envelope that felt thick. I bet it had a thousand bucks in it.” “No way. Funeral donations are supposed to be an odd number. Maybe it was a thousand and one…” I closed my eyes, trembling, clutching the urn tightly as a chill spread through my body.

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A Childhood Nightmare I was the imposter heiress of the Scott family. When the real heiress, Edna Scott, returned, everyone blamed me for stealing ten years of her life and forced me to atone for it. They despised me, even cursed me to die. Eventually, I did die, and everyone lost their minds. The boy who used to love bullying me knelt at my grave, crying and begging me to wait for him—to marry him in the next life. My parents and brother, who had always insulted me, also knelt there, crying, and apologizing for all the harm they’d done to me. But it was too late. I was dead. My body was shattered from the accident, but even then, I still clutched the grocery bags in my hands. Inside them was the dinner I was supposed to cook for the family. My spirit floated above the scene, numb, as I watched the driver panic and hurriedly load my body into the car. I laughed bitterly to myself. Who would’ve thought that my eighteenth year would end in death? I drifted aimlessly for a while. Then, without realizing it, I found myself floating back to the front of my house. When I got home, Dad and Rick hadn’t returned from work yet. Edna and Mom were sitting in the living room, discussing the latest designer handbags. Each bag’s price was more than I could ever dream of spending. After some time, Edna pouted and said, “Mom, I’m hungry. Why isn’t Sunny back yet?” Mom glanced at the clock, her tone full of irritation. “Where the hell is that Sunny? It’s been forever, and she still hasn’t returned with the groceries!” “Sweetheart, how about I take you out for dinner instead?” she offered. But Edna stuck out her lower lip. “No, no, I want to eat the dinner my sister makes for me. Let’s pretend we’re supporting her effort.” I knew she didn’t actually want to eat anything I cooked. She just didn’t want to miss another opportunity to humiliate me. Mom shook her head with a smile full of affection. “You’re too kind-hearted. Even now, you’re trying to support her.” Edna had always been like this—at school, she was a rebellious teen, but at home, she played the role of an innocent angel. Another hour passed, and finally, there was some noise at the door. Mom couldn’t hold back her anger anymore. “You worthless girl! Do you want to starve Edna to death by showing up this late?” But the door opened to reveal Rick and Dad instead. The moment I saw Rick, a lump formed in my throat. He was the person I cared about most in this family, but it had been so long since he even looked at me. “Dad! Rick!” Edna excitedly ran over to greet them, snuggling her head into their chests. Dad patted her head affectionately. “Edna, you’re all grown up now, but you still love clinging to your old dad, huh? Once you get married, you’ll cry your eyes out.” “Well, then I won’t get married! I’ll stay by your side forever.” Her sweet words made Dad burst out laughing. Rick tugged casually at his tie, every move effortlessly attractive. He didn’t pay any attention to Edna, though, and frowned as he asked Mom, “Where’s Sunny?” “You mean that fraud?” Mom couldn’t hide the disgust in her eyes. “I bet she’s up to no good. She can’t even manage a simple grocery trip, and she’s probably starving my Edna on purpose.” Dad’s face darkened with anger. “I’m calling her right now to see what the hell is going on. Does she think she can get away with making my precious daughter hungry? She’s been out of that basement for too long.” Even though I was dead, hearing those words made my soul tremble. The basement was my nightmare. Edna had been brought back into the family when I was ten. I couldn’t accept that there was suddenly another girl in our house, or the abrupt change in my parents’ behavior. I threw tantrums and even demanded they send Edna away. That night, I got slapped several times and was locked in the basement.

I Died, and No One Knew The basement was cluttered with unused items, and the whole room reeked of mildew. That night, I cried so much that I lost my voice. By the next day, I had developed a high fever. My parents locked me in my room and ignored me. Just as I was about to lose consciousness, it was fifteen-year-old Rick who left a bottle of fever medicine and a glass of water on my bedside table. He left without a word, but I grabbed onto that lifeline, somehow finding the strength to sit up and take the medicine. After several days of suffering, I finally recovered. Rick became the bright spot of my youth, my one source of hope. If it weren’t for him, I probably would’ve died long ago. But soon, Dad awkwardly realized that no one in the family had my contact information. Neither Edna nor Mom had it, either. In the end, Dad took Edna and Mom out to dinner, while Rick stayed behind, claiming work as an excuse. Edna smiled brightly. “Rick, you better work hard so you can earn lots of money to take care of me in the future.” For the first time in a while, Rick’s face softened into a smile. “Don’t worry. The Scott family business will always be your strongest support.” Watching this, I was consumed with jealousy, but when Rick said he wouldn’t go to dinner with them, I got anxious. “Hey, Rick! You have stomach problems—you can’t skip meals! When I was alive, I reminded you three times a day to eat and take your medicine. How have you still not formed the habit?” Rick had severe stomach issues, and I often saw him in pain, his face pale. I worried about his health constantly, even though I knew he was annoyed by me. Still, I pushed myself to send him reminders every day, even though he never once responded. After they left, Rick retreated to his study to work late into the night. I stayed by his side, watching him go through documents I didn’t understand. A focused man is truly at his best, and in that moment, Rick exuded the charm of a successful man. I felt a swell of pride in my chest. See? My brother is the most handsome man in the world. Several hours later, I heard a noise downstairs. I floated out to check. When I saw their empty hands, I knew they had forgotten to bring Rick anything to eat. I started to panic. What would happen if his stomach problems flared up? But then I stopped and laughed bitterly to myself. I was dead. What could I possibly do, even if I worried myself to death? I floated back to his side to watch him work. Finally, at 1 a.m., Rick closed his laptop and stood up. Suddenly, there was a noise outside his study window. Someone was throwing small stones at the glass. Rick walked over to the window, his face cold. Curious, I peeked out too, and saw Dylan Brooks grinning like a troublemaker. “Hey, Rick, why didn’t I see Sunny come home today?” In the dead of night, his voice cut through the silence, too loud. I had always hated Dylan. He constantly bullied me. Whenever I went out to buy groceries, he would whistle at me. Even though he was the only son of the Brooks family, he spent his days doing nothing and was known around town as a spoiled brat. Rick responded coldly, “If you keep disturbing my family, I’ll tell Mr. Brooks tomorrow.” At the mention of his grandfather, Dylan’s cocky expression wavered. He muttered a few curses under his breath before leaving. To my surprise, I felt a tiny bit of warmth. I couldn’t believe the first person to notice my absence was Dylan, the guy I hated most! Rick closed the window, freshened up, and was about to head to bed. But as he passed the hallway, he made a sudden turn toward my bedroom door. What was he up to? Rick first cracked the door open slightly, but when he saw the room was empty, he pushed it open with force. He turned on the light, and the entire room came into view. A bed, a desk, and a wardrobe—this was my entire world. Rick frowned even deeper, then closed the door and turned off the light. He went to sit on the living room sofa. I suddenly felt nervous. Was he waiting for me? But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it. How could it be? Rick Scott, the busy and admired businessman, waiting for someone as insignificant as me?

He waited for a while, occasionally lifting his arm to check his watch. Finally, he took out his phone, staring at the screen as if trying to make a decision. Curious, I floated closer. It was our chat window. He was the only person in the family who had my contact information. The conversation was filled with messages sent only by me—reminding him to take his medication on time. After hesitating for a moment, he dialed my number. Of course, I could never answer it. Annoyed, Rick lit a cigarette, but just then, his phone buzzed with a message. “Don’t call me. I’m busy.” I was shocked. The hit-and-run driver was using my phone to message Rick! Rick smirked in anger, put out the cigarette, and immediately deleted my contact from his phone. “Ungrateful, just like a stray dog. No wonder Mom and Dad always said she couldn’t be trusted,” he muttered before heading off to bed. Hearing that felt like a dagger to my heart. I couldn’t believe it. Even my favorite brother was talking behind my back like that. The next morning, Rick came down for breakfast. As he ate, he casually asked, “Edna, why didn’t you make soup for me this morning? Are you not caring for your brother anymore?” Edna’s eyes flashed with panic for a second, but she quickly regained her composure. She put on a pitiful face and replied, “Oh, I’m sorry, Rick! I was so worried about Sunny last night that I couldn’t sleep. I completely forgot to make your soup today. You’re not mad at me, are you?” Rick gave her a soft smile. “Of course not. You work hard every morning. You don’t need to make soup next time. If you tire yourself out, Mom and Dad will be mad at me.” How shameless! I couldn’t help but curse under my breath. Only now did I realize that Edna had taken credit for my efforts. Rick had a sensitive stomach, so I would wake up early every day to make chicken soup for him. I thought that even though I never said anything, he’d know it was me. After all, Edna was never the type to be diligent, yet she managed to steal all the credit. As soon as they mentioned me, Edna continued, “I’m so worried about Sunny. You know how she’s always been a loner, with no friends and no money. Who knows where she stayed last night? What if some old man tricked her?” Mom scoffed. “Why bother worrying about her? As long as she doesn’t come back pregnant, that’s all I care about.” They joked about me like it was nothing, and Rick just sat there, emotionless, continuing to eat. Then the news came on: “Today, an unidentified female body was found in the woods on the west side of town. The victim appears to be around 18 years old. No missing person report has been filed, and authorities are working to confirm her identity.” Seeing the blurred-out body on the screen, I was overwhelmed with sorrow. Sunny Scott, you really have the worst luck. The police already know you’re dead, but the family you lived with for eighteen years thinks you’re out messing around with some man. Dad couldn’t help but sigh, “What a shame. Such a young life, gone just like that.” Mom, however, looked more alarmed. “Edna, from now on, you need to have two bodyguards with you at all times when you go out. If something happened to you, how would I go on?” Just then, there was a loud knock at the door. “Is Mr. Scott home?” a voice called. Dad frowned, clearly irritated. “What’s that troublemaker doing here? I’ve seen him hanging around outside for days. He better not have his eyes on my Edna.”

At Dad’s remark, Edna actually blushed. “Dad, don’t say that! Dylan Brooks probably has something important to talk about.” I had known for a while that Edna liked Dylan. As much as I disliked Dylan, I had to admit, his rebellious attitude and good looks made him popular with girls our age. In the end, Dad let Dylan in. Dylan scanned the living room and asked directly, “Mr. Scott, hasn’t Sunny come home yet?” Edna visibly paled. I couldn’t help but find his question odd, and I muttered, “Dylan, are you seriously here just to ask about me? Can’t you survive a day without bullying me?” Edna forced a smile, her voice rising in false sweetness. “Sunny ran off with some guy last night, Dylan. I’m not sure why you’re looking for her.” Rick, who had been quiet until now, suddenly snapped. “Edna, watch your mouth.” Edna looked hurt. “Are you doubting me, Rick? I know Sunny better than anyone—we go to the same school.” Mom jumped to Edna’s defense. “Edna wouldn’t lie about something like that. Besides, we’ve always treated Sunny well. We’ve given her food and shelter, and this is how she repays us—running off without a word.” Treated me well? I laughed bitterly. In their eyes, I probably did live in luxury. Rick had stomach issues, so I always made chicken soup for him in the mornings and reminded him to take his meds. Dad had such picky tastes that I’d spend hours researching recipes just to satisfy him. Mom loved wearing designer clothes, and it was me who hand-washed all of them. And Edna? At home, she was the innocent princess, but at school, she led the pack of bullies who tormented me daily. Dylan exploded with anger. “You ugly little liar! I know exactly what kind of person Sunny is. You don’t get to slander her like that!” Then he turned to address everyone in the room. “What’s wrong with you people? Sunny has lived with you for eighteen years! She didn’t come home last night, and instead of worrying, you make up filthy rumors about her? You don’t deserve to call yourselves her family!” With that, he stormed out, leaving Dad fuming. “I’ve spent decades in business, and now I’m being lectured by some kid? I’m calling Mr. Brooks to deal with this!” Dad yelled, slamming his chopsticks down. My heart sank. Dylan was definitely going to get in trouble tonight. Even though I didn’t like him, the thought of him being punished because of me didn’t sit well. I followed Dylan back to his house. The Brooks estate was the polar opposite of the Scott Manor. The Brooks family’s home was all understated elegance, with every piece of art on the walls worth a fortune. In comparison, our home, with its overly lavish decor, looked tacky—like a nouveau riche caricature. Dylan entered his room, kicked a chair in frustration, and picked up his phone. “Hey, Officer King, I heard you’ve been promoted recently. Can I ask a favor? I need you to find someone named Sunny Scott. She’s eighteen, and she went missing yesterday. She was last seen wearing a white shirt and blue jeans.” I was stunned by how well Dylan remembered the details. If he used that memory in his career, Mr. Brooks would be overjoyed. “No problem, Mr. Brooks,” Officer King said on the other end. “I’ll make sure to send a team out to look for her.” Then there was a pause before he added, “Wait a minute… a white shirt and blue jeans? Was she also wearing sneakers when she went missing?” Dylan’s voice grew excited. “Yes! How did you know? Have you seen her? Where is she?” Officer King hesitated. “Mr. Brooks, you’d better come down here in person.” It was clear that Dylan realized what was going on. He hung up immediately, jumped into his pink Lamborghini, and raced toward the police station.

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My name is Bryce Miller, and I just turned thirty. I consider myself a winner in life. I own a house and a car, I have a respectable job with a stable income, and a beautiful wife. Life is pretty perfect. Oh, and when I say house and car, I mean top of the line. But recently, I’ve been troubled. My wife, Rebecca, is pregnant. She’s three months along. Of course, that’s good news. I’ve never been against having kids. In fact, I’ve dreamed of having a child of my own, and I’m excited for the arrival of this new life. But with Rebecca being pregnant, she can’t be intimate with me. I’m a healthy man in my prime, and I still have needs. I can’t just take care of things myself every night, right? I hold myself to high standards. I’ve always been a law-abiding man, and I’d never do something like hire an escort. So, I turned to Chloe Morgan, my wife’s best friend. Yep, exactly the kind of “turning” you’re thinking of. Rebecca and I met in college and started working at Broadway Financial Group right after graduation. A year later, Chloe joined the company too. Chloe didn’t go to our school, but she and Rebecca had known each other since college and hit it off well. They became inseparable. Chloe was over at our house all the time, practically like family. She worked in my department, so we saw each other a lot. One night, after working late, it was around eight in the evening, and it was winter. I offered to drive Chloe home. When we got to her apartment building, she asked if I wanted to come up for a drink. I knew exactly what she was suggesting. And since I knew, I went along with it. Upstairs, she changed into this lacy, see-through slip and brought me a drink. I took a sip and couldn’t stop staring at her. One thing led to another, and sitting down for a drink turned into “doing something else”—the kind of “something” you can only do in bed. When I got home, Rebecca was still waiting up for me. I felt a little guilty. But soon enough, my head was filled with thoughts of Chloe’s amazing body, and that night, I dreamed about our time together. That’s when I realized why people cheat—man, it’s exciting. Once there’s a first time, there’s a second. And a third. Sometimes at her apartment, sometimes at a hotel like the Hilton Nashville Downtown. At first, I felt bad. But after a few times, I stopped feeling guilty. I convinced myself that I was just a man with needs. It was only physical. I was still 100% in love with Rebecca, still dedicated to my family. I had no plans to leave her or start a new life with Chloe. And Chloe? She was easygoing. Anytime I wanted to meet up, she’d come, always willing and able, no matter what. We even texted each other all sorts of dirty messages when we had nothing better to do. Honestly, Chloe was just trouble—a real-life temptress. How on earth did Rebecca end up with a friend like that? What did she do in a past life to deserve this? By the end of the year, Rebecca’s belly was growing, and I was more attentive to her than ever. On top of that, work was crazy busy. Year-end projects had me working day and night, so I didn’t have much time for Chloe. After all, work and family come first. Sneaking around with a mistress is just a side hobby. Chloe sent me a few messages, some of them with sexy photos—some of her wearing next to nothing. I just replied coolly, telling her I was too busy and we’d catch up later. She even came to my office once, giving me those flirty looks, but I pretended not to notice. In a company full of people, what could she say? There was no way she’d make a scene. A few days later, I heard she’d found a new boyfriend, some rich guy. Eventually, she quit her job and moved down south with him. I figured our affair had just fizzled out. As long as we both kept quiet, who would ever know we’d slept together? To everyone else, it was just a fleeting dream. A month passed, and New Year’s was coming. One night, Rebecca and I were in bed. She was on her phone, chatting with someone. Worried she might be getting too tired, I told her it was time to sleep. She nodded and then turned to me, “Honey, I need to ask you something. My best friend wants to stay with us for a while.” “Which friend?” “Chloe.”

“Who?” “Chloe Morgan—you know, from your department. My best friend, the pretty one.” Rebecca blinked at me, her expression a little odd. She thought I’d forgotten who Chloe was. I quickly steadied myself. “Of course, I remember. What’s up with her?” Rebecca snorted, “She ran into a jerk. You know the type—those guys who hit it and quit it. Honey, don’t you think guys like that are disgusting? Married, but still out there looking for women. After they get what they want, they disappear. Now Chloe’s in a bad spot.” “Yeah… that’s awful.” What else could I say? I had to agree with her. I couldn’t exactly tell Rebecca, “Yep, your husband’s that kind of guy too.” Rebecca kept going, “He took all her money and ditched her. Now she can’t even pay her rent. Honey, let her stay here for a while. I’m pregnant, and she could help take care of me.” There was no way I could agree to that. Sure, I was into thrills, but having my mistress live under the same roof as my wife? That wasn’t thrilling—that was suicidal. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. If she needs a place to stay, I can help her find one—a hotel, maybe a short-term rental?” Rebecca shook her head immediately, “No, that won’t work. She’s really fragile right now. She was crying the whole time when we met up yesterday. I’m worried she might do something drastic. Please, honey, let her stay. She won’t be any trouble, and she’ll really help take care of me. After all, we’re best friends.” What could I say after that? I had no choice but to agree. Rebecca handled human resources at work and was known for being tough. If she hadn’t gotten married and pregnant, she’d probably be in a higher position than me by now. Plus, her dad was friends with the company’s owner. I wasn’t about to argue with her. I felt even guiltier toward Rebecca. She had sacrificed so much for our family, and here I was, cheating with her best friend. I silently promised that I’d make it up to her, that I’d treat her right from now on. Otherwise, may I be struck by lightning. They say a man’s promises are empty lies. Turns out, that’s true. We don’t just lie to women—we lie to ourselves. The next day, Chloe showed up. She looked a lot worse than before—clearly, the breakup had taken a toll on her. The moment she saw Rebecca, they were inseparable, chatting away and leaving me completely out of the picture. I found a moment to ask Rebecca, “She doesn’t seem that bad. I thought you said she was struggling?” Rebecca hushed me, “Don’t be fooled. She’s putting on a brave face, but inside, she’s a wreck. Stop saying that. Oh, and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” I wanted to say more, but Chloe was already calling Rebecca’s name. Rebecca gave me a push and went over to her, tossing my bedding onto the couch on her way. Rebecca was just too kind. At dinner, Chloe’s foot nudged me under the table. I ignored her. Then she slipped off her high heels and rubbed my leg with her stockinged foot. I couldn’t take it. I got up and stopped eating. Rebecca asked what was wrong, and I just said I was full. After dinner, Rebecca scolded me privately, saying I was rude to Chloe and that I didn’t want her staying with us. I didn’t argue. I just wanted to sleep. The two women kept talking in the bedroom, chatting until well past ten. I’d had a long, stressful day. The moment my head hit the pillow on the couch, I was out. Around one or two in the morning, I felt someone snuggling up next to me. I opened my eyes to find Chloe lying beside me, wearing the same see-through slip she’d worn the night I first cheated on Rebecca. “Bryce, you haven’t forgotten about me, have you?” Then, she pounced on me, knowing exactly what to do. I broke out in a cold sweat. This was my home! And Rebecca was just in the next room!

　I remember the last time Chloe and I were at her place, we were also on the couch. My mind told me to resist, but my body didn’t listen. It wasn’t until we heard a noise from the bedroom that Chloe finally got up from the couch. She tossed her hair and said, “Rebecca’s awake. I should head back. We can pick this up next time.” She gave me a mischievous smile, her eyes full of teasing. I turned my head to avoid looking at her, but I couldn’t get her out of my mind. The dim light in the room cast shadows, and I saw myself slumped on the couch, looking as pathetic as ever. It’s the same old story—once you do it the first time, the second time comes easily, and after the second, it just keeps happening. And just like that, Chloe and I reignited our affair. Sneaking around with my mistress under my wife’s nose—it was reckless, I knew that. But I couldn’t stop. There were times when Rebecca almost caught us. But Chloe was always quick to cover for me, helping me get away just in time. I even used my connections to get Chloe back into the company. That way, we could see each other more, and naturally, seeing each other led to… well, you know. Chloe would joke that Rebecca—my wife and her “best friend”—asked her to keep an eye on me to make sure I wasn’t cheating. She would laugh as she said it, and in her mind, Rebecca was nothing more than a fool. A couple of days later, Chloe told me she was feeling better and that she was ready to move out. Rebecca didn’t stop her. In fact, she asked me to help Chloe with the move. Chloe told Rebecca she was planning to find a boyfriend who would treat her well. Rebecca asked, “How well?” Chloe gave me a sly glance and said, “Oh, as well as your husband does.” Rebecca just laughed, thinking Chloe was joking. A few days before New Year’s, my parents came to stay with us. With Rebecca being pregnant, it was hard for her to do much, so they were there to help. Mostly, it was my mom doing the work. My dad, well, he did what he could—some household chores, running errands. Dad was in great shape. He’d served in the military when he was younger, and even in his sixties, he was fit. He had more black hair than gray, and he took walks every morning and evening. It was that very habit that led to him stumbling upon me and Chloe. It all started simply enough. Rebecca had invited Chloe over for dinner. She even asked if Chloe had any plans for the evening, like a date. Chloe said she didn’t, but she had her eye on someone. Rebecca kept pressing, asking if she knew him. Chloe dodged the question with a smile. I drove Chloe home after dinner. We got to her apartment complex, and she told me to stop the car. I wasn’t sure what she was up to, but I pulled over anyway. Without warning, she lunged into my lap, saying she wanted a little “affection” before heading inside. Before I could object, she was already making her move. I’m the type of guy who can’t resist women—especially someone like Chloe, who’s clingy and seductive. I guess I’m one of those men they say think with their lower half. After we’d had our fun and were tidying ourselves up, I was about to drive into the complex when I suddenly noticed someone standing at the entrance. It was my dad. I broke into a cold sweat. Dad was strict—if he found out… it would be a disaster. That night at dinner, Chloe had my mom laughing so hard she nearly cried. Dad joined in too, but every time I met his eyes, there was an icy look in them that made me nervous. After dinner, Rebecca asked me to take Chloe home. At her apartment building, she turned to me and asked, “Do you prefer boys or girls? You probably want a boy, right? Since you’re an only child, you need to carry on the family name.” I didn’t respond. Chloe continued, “Rebecca’s carrying a girl. Trust me.” “I’d be happy with a girl,” I replied. “And if we want a boy, we can always have another.” “Oh? But Rebecca said she doesn’t want more kids. She’s focused on her career. You’re lucky she’s having one for you.” She leaned in close, whispering in my ear, “I’ll give you as many kids as you want.” I glared at her and pointed to the door. “Get out.” When I got home, it was late. I yawned and pushed open the door. My parents were in the living room. Before I could say anything, my dad slapped me hard across the face, nearly knocking me over. “Dad, what the—” “You know what this is about!” And I did know. I dropped to my knees in front of him. “Dad, I messed up. I lost my head for a moment. I swear, it’s over between us.” My mom tugged at my dad’s sleeve, urging him to calm down. Dad sighed heavily and spoke in a low voice, “You better remember what you just said. End it with that woman, or you’re going to destroy this family.” I nodded hard, and in my mind, I told myself the same thing—I had to cut things off with Chloe for good.

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Returning to work after maternity leave, I couldn’t wait to see my baby girl. I gave my manager a quick heads-up and left early to head home. As I approached our front door, voices drifted out from inside. “Don’t worry. She won’t be back for at least another two hours.” That voice belonged to my husband, Jack Hale. “Right. Says the guy who ignored me for half an hour last night to rock his little princess to sleep,” a woman’s voice teased. My mind went blank as I heard Jack soothingly reply, “Once she’s gone, Emily will be your daughter, too. She’s a baby; she won’t know the difference. After all, if you’ve got milk, you’re the mom.” Then, I heard sounds that left no room for doubt. Frozen in place, the devastating truth settled over me. Jack was cheating on me. We’d known each other since high school, growing together from prom to wedding vows. After three years of marriage, our lives had settled into a routine. Jack quit his big tech job earlier this year to open Jack’s Hardware, aiming to help with Emmy after she was born and spare me from solo parenting. I’d cried at his thoughtfulness, and the shop had done well enough that he hired a part-time employee. He’d been a doting partner through my entire recovery. Just last night, we’d been planning our move to the new house we’d remodeled, where the paint fumes had finally aired out. But now, under the searing late-afternoon August sun, reality struck me harder than anything before. Standing outside, I waited until I saw a tall woman with wavy hair strut out of the building. I ducked behind a car, catching my reflection in its window, noting how pregnancy had altered my once-trim figure. I’d always taken pride in my looks. Jack had always said that whether we had a boy or a girl, he just wanted a child of his own. I’d endured countless shots to keep our baby healthy, ultimately blessed with Emmy. At nearly six, I entered our apartment with groceries in hand. Hearing the door, Jack padded out in his slippers. “Hey, hon! I made some iced green bean soup—it’s in the fridge if you want a bowl.” “Sure, I’ll take one.” As I switched my shoes, his words from earlier echoed in my mind: Once she’s gone. Jack wanted me dead. And not only had he cheated, but he was planning to kill me. Somehow, though, my shock turned to an eerie calmness. Over dinner, Jack mentioned his mom wanting to come help with Emmy since I was back at work, and he was juggling the store and caring for her. I thought for a moment, then replied, “There’s only one bed here. When your mom comes, there won’t be space. How about we just move into the new house now?” But Jack hesitated, “I’ll take the couch. It’s summer; I’ll be fine there. You two can use the bed.” I nodded, “Sure, it’ll be nice to have her help.” I’d always found it odd how Jack had been so reluctant to move into the new house, even though it was ready ages ago. Turns out, he’d been planning to get rid of me and move in with her. After Emmy was asleep, Jack handed me an insurance form to sign. He’d mentioned getting life insurance back when I was pregnant, saying we needed to think about Emmy’s future and that this would protect her in case anything happened. So, we both got policies listing Emily as the sole beneficiary. “All right, so if I die in an accident, it’s a million?” I tightened my fingers around the paper. Right then, Carol Wilson, our neighbor, popped by with a few peaches. “A friend of ours brought over a whole box. Too much for us, so we thought of you!” She glanced at the insurance paperwork on the coffee table. “What are you two up to?” “Oh, I’m just talking with Megan about getting a policy,” Jack said smoothly. “Aunt Carol, does it really pay out a million?” I said, feigning innocence. “Jack’s looked at a bunch of policies and keeps bugging me to sign it before prices go up.” Carol’s interest piqued. “Honey, insurance is a pain to pay, but it sure comes in handy when you need it. Just last year, my husband’s cancer was covered under his policy, and we got thirty grand from it.” Jack shot me a look that said, See? “I don’t know much about insurance, but Jack says it’ll give us peace of mind,” I shrugged. “But maybe I’ll study up on it first.” Carol nodded approvingly, “You’re right to think it through. Accident insurance isn’t like health insurance. You’re far more likely to get sick in your life than to get in an accident.” She didn’t notice Jack’s face freeze for a moment as she said it. “Insurance is just a safety net. You never know what might happen tomorrow,” Jack joked, glancing at me. “If I die, at least I’d leave you and Emmy a little something.” I punched his shoulder, “Quit saying stuff like that.” “Don’t tempt fate, Jack!” Carol said, waving us off with a chuckle as she left. That night, I headed to the bathroom. There was a faint humming noise coming from the water heater. Our building was old, built in the early 2000s, and all the units used electric water heaters. Ours was secondhand, bought from the last tenants, and I’d wanted to replace it last year, but we’d planned to move, so we let it be. Holding my toothbrush, I stared thoughtfully at the worn appliance. Back in bed, Jack was scrolling on his phone. When I walked over, he quickly set it face down. On the nightstand, a baby monitor showed Emmy’s crib. “Jack, you really want that insurance?” I asked, raising my voice a bit. Jack rolled over, “It’s a solid policy. I’m telling you…” He launched into a long list of benefits. I yawned, agreeing casually, “All right, sure. Too late now, though. Tomorrow, then.” “Great!” In the dim light, I caught the gleam of excitement in his eyes. The next morning, I headed downstairs for work. Jack hurried out, waving the insurance form, and caught me as I was about to leave. Right then, Carol and some other neighbors walked by, bags of groceries in hand. “What’s the rush, Jack?” Carol asked, eyeing the form in his hand. “Oh, it’s that insurance from last night. He just wants me to sign it,” I said, signing my name with a smile. “Can’t help it; he calls the shots around here. Gotta run—almost late!” Riding away on my e-bike, I caught sight of Jack in my mirror, holding the paper with a grin, even giving it a celebratory kiss. At work, I texted him: Jack, the water heater at home seems off. Can you check it? Ten minutes later, he replied: Sure, babe. Got it. His careless response was exactly as expected. He was probably daydreaming about his life after a million-dollar payout with his new woman, far too busy to worry about an eight-year-old water heater. What causes a water heater to explode? I typed into the search bar, read through the results, and then cleared my history.

At 5:30, Julie, the new intern, noticed I hadn’t budged. “Megan, aren’t you in a rush to get home and see Emmy?” “Oh, Jack’s with her,” I replied, showing the baby monitor app on my phone, where Jack was entertaining Emmy. “I figured I’d stay late and finish up my report.” Julie gave me a wistful smile. “Must be nice! One day, I’m finding a guy who’ll pull his weight with the baby, too!” I just smiled back. Starting today, I wanted everyone to know that Jack and I were the picture of domestic bliss. After wrapping up, I was about to leave when Greg Summers from IT walked over. “Hey, just a heads up—don’t use company computers for personal stuff right now.” “What’s going on?” I asked. “With last quarter’s slump, leadership’s monitoring web use more than usual, like to see if people are shopping or browsing news sites…” Greg trailed off, then asked, “By the way, what’s up with your water heater? Saw you searching about it.” My pulse raced, but I kept calm. Why should I be anxious? It was completely reasonable to check out potential safety issues with an old appliance. “Oh, I saw this video about a heater exploding, and it freaked me out a bit,” I replied casually. Greg nodded. “I think they say to replace them every eight years or so.” His phone buzzed, and he walked away. My fingers shook as I gathered my things to leave. By the time I got home, it was almost eight. Jack was taking photos of Emmy on the couch. When he noticed me, he quickly looked away, seeming almost flustered. “Is that new?” I pointed at the outfit Emmy was wearing. “Yeah, it arrived today,” he set the camera down. “Hungry? Let’s go grab some noodles from that place downstairs.” “When’d you get a new camera? You didn’t mention it.” I reached over to pick it up, flipping through the photos. The quality was so professional; Jack had clearly gotten good at composition. Jack hesitated, “Well, I didn’t want you to think I was wasting money… I wanted to capture Emmy’s moments, you know?” “You could’ve asked me instead of hiding it,” I said, continuing to look through the photos. Jack snatched the camera from my hands. “Hon, you’ve been working all day; don’t get worked up over a small thing. Let me make it up to you. Here, strike a pose for me!” Then, Emmy started fussing. I quickly scooped her up. “Could you take out the trash? And grab us two noodle bowls on your way back?” “Sure.” Jack reached for his phone. “Leave it charging,” I said, pulling out some cash. “Here, just use this.” He shrugged, took the money, and grabbed the trash. The moment he was out of sight, I unlocked his phone—password, Emmy’s birth date, worked on the first try. I’d never felt the need to check his phone before, but now, there was no hesitation. He’d been so sure I’d never intrude on his privacy. One contact caught my eye: “AAA Style Master Linda Cross.” Her latest message read: Hiking’s the easiest way to create a happy little ‘accident.’ There’s no… The rest was hidden, and since Jack hadn’t opened it, I couldn’t read further. But I didn’t need to; the picture was clear enough. With the policy signed, they’d locked and loaded. I placed his phone back and resumed scrolling through the camera, finding photos of Emmy bundled in thick baby blankets. The focus wasn’t even on her, but rather the details of the clothing. Given the summer heat, Emmy’s hair was damp with sweat. When Jack returned, I confronted him, “Why wrap her up like this? It’s over 90 degrees out—she’ll overheat!” He froze, trying to recover, “They’re sending us another one for free if I post a picture with this one.” “So you’d risk her comfort for a cheap promo?” Jack’s anger flared, “She’s my daughter! You think I’d hurt her?” “Relax. I didn’t say that.” I pressed, raising my voice. Jack knocked the camera to the ground, slamming the door behind him. When he finally returned around midnight, he hugged me from behind, whispering, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” I said nothing. He softened, adding, “How about a weekend hiking trip, just the two of us? Mom can watch Emmy. It’s been forever since we had time alone.” There it was: that sickening sweetness, like when we first started dating. Even after years of building a life together, you can never fully know the person lying beside you. “Camping? But I thought you hated hiking?” I asked. “That was back then,” he chuckled, “But now we’re our own bosses with flexible schedules. Hiking’s a good way to stay fit.” “Which trail?” I tested. “Stonehill Ridge,” he said. “I read it’s less crowded, got beautiful old scenery, and is far from the city. They say the air there is amazing.” I nodded, “You really did your homework.” “Of course. I have to make it up to you.” He pulled me close. “We could get a tent and camp under the stars, just like college.” I pushed him back, “Fine. But if we go, it’ll be once your mom’s settled with Emmy.” He brightened, “Done!” The stronger he pressed, the firmer my resolve became. Around 2 a.m., I finished feeding Emmy and went to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, the water heater emitted its usual hum, old and worn. If its temperature controls, overheating protection, and pressure release valves were all damaged, well… anything could happen. I placed a hand under the hot stream, deep in thought.

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My Wife Got Pregnant, So I Cheated With Her Best Friend. Then My Life Turned Into A Nightmare I Can Never Wake Up From. My name is Knox. I just turned 30 this year and consider myself a winner at life. I have a house, a car, a decent job, stable income, and a beautiful wife. Life is pretty great. Oh, and my house and car are both very high-end. But recently, I’ve been troubled by something. My wife Quincy is pregnant, three months along now. Pregnancy is certainly a good thing. I’m not opposed to having kids – I’ve dreamed of having my own child. I eagerly look forward to the arrival of our new life. It’s just that now that Quincy is pregnant, we can’t be intimate anymore. I’m a normal man in my prime, with certain needs in that department. I can’t exactly take care of things myself every night. I hold myself to high standards and always follow the rules. I would absolutely never hire a prostitute or anything like that. So, I turned to Quincy’s best friend Kaia. Yes, exactly the kind of “turned to” that you’re thinking. Quincy and I graduated from the same university. Later we got hired at the same company after interviewing there. A year later, Kaia joined the company too. She didn’t go to school with us, but she and Quincy often hung out during college and really hit it off. They became best friends. Kaia comes over to our place all the time, to the point where we’re practically family. Kaia works in my department as my subordinate, so we have a lot of chances to interact. One time we were working late until 8pm. It was winter, so I offered to drive Kaia home. When we got to her building, she asked if I wanted to come up for a bit. Of course I knew this was a setup. Since it was a setup, I figured I might as well take the bait. We went upstairs. She said she was going to change clothes, and came out in a sheer negligee. She even brought me a glass of wine. I drank the wine while staring at her intently. Soon enough, our little get-together naturally progressed into sex. When I got home, Quincy was still waiting up for me. I felt a bit guilty. But very quickly, my mind filled with images of Kaia’s amazing body. I even had a dream that night, reliving the delicious experience with her. I finally understood why some people like to cheat. It’s so damn exciting. Where there’s a first time, there’s bound to be a second and third time. Sometimes at her place, sometimes at hotels. At first I still felt guilty, but after a few times I made peace with it. I told myself, I’m a man, I’m just fulfilling a physical need. At most it’s just a physical affair. I love my wife 100% and love our family. I have absolutely no intention of divorcing Quincy to marry some mistress. As for Kaia, she’s pretty agreeable. Whenever I ask her out, she comes. She’s very obedient and knows all kinds of positions. She even chats with me on Snapchat all the time, saying all kinds of explicit things. I can’t believe my wife has a friend like this. Who knows what kind of bad karma she must have accumulated in her past life. Before I knew it, the year was coming to an end. Quincy’s belly was getting bigger and bigger, so I took even more meticulous care of her. Plus with all the year-end work piling up at the company, I was busy from dawn to dusk. This meant I didn’t have time for Kaia anymore. After all, work and family are the real priorities. Having a mistress and hooking up can only be a hobby. Kaia sent me a few messages and photos – very sexy ones, with some even completely nude. But I only gave cold replies, saying I was busy and we’d talk later. She even came to my office, batting her eyelashes and sending flirtatious signals. I pretended not to notice. There are a lot of people at the company. As long as I didn’t respond, she couldn’t very well say anything in front of everyone. A few days later, I heard she had found a new boyfriend, some rich handsome guy. Later on she quit her job, saying she was moving down south with her boyfriend. I thought that would be the end of things between us. As long as we both kept our mouths shut, who would ever know I had slept with her? Let’s just pretend it was all a spring dream. A month later, it was almost New Year’s. Quincy and I were lying in bed. She was chatting with someone on her phone. Worried she might get too tired, I suggested we should sleep. She made a sound of agreement, then suddenly said to me: “Honey, I want to discuss something with you. My friend wants to stay at our place for a while.” “Which friend?” “Kaia.”

“Who?” “Kaia, the one who used to be in your department. My best friend, you know, the really pretty one.” Quincy blinked at me, her expression a bit strange. She thought I had forgotten who Kaia was. I quickly collected myself and said: “Of course I remember. What’s up with her?” Quincy snorted coldly: “She ran into a scumbag. Honey, can you believe how despicable some men are? They have a wife at home but still go looking for other women. Then they ghost after sleeping with them. Now she’s in a really bad situation.” “Ah, yeah, despicable.” What else could I say? I could hardly tell my wife “You’re right, your husband is exactly that kind of man.” Quincy continued: “The guy scammed her out of all her money. Now she can’t even pay rent. Honey, please let her stay with us for now. I’m pregnant, so she can help take care of me too.” Of course I disagreed. I may enjoy seeking thrills, but having my mistress and wife living under the same roof isn’t thrilling – it’s suicidal. “I don’t think that’s very convenient. If she has nowhere to stay, I can find her a place. Like a hotel, or a studio apartment.” Quincy immediately shook her head: “That won’t work. She’s emotionally unstable right now. When we met yesterday, she just kept crying. I’m worried she might do something rash. Honey, please let her stay. She won’t be any trouble at all, she’ll take good care of me. We are best friends after all.” At this point, what else could I say? I had to agree. Quincy handles HR at our company and always gets her way. If she hadn’t gotten married and pregnant, her position would probably be higher than mine by now. Plus her dad knows our company’s boss. I don’t dare contradict her easily. I felt increasingly guilty towards Quincy. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, yet here I am fooling around with her best friend on the side. I silently vowed to treat her well from now on. Otherwise, may heaven strike me down and curse me to a miserable death. As it turns out, “Men’s words are lies” is absolutely true. Men don’t just lie to women – they even lie to themselves. The next day, Kaia arrived. Compared to before, she looked quite haggard. You could tell that scumbag guy had really done a number on her. As soon as she saw Quincy, the two of them clasped hands and started chattering away, completely ignoring me. I found a chance to ask Quincy: “Kaia seems to be in great spirits. It doesn’t look as bad as you said.” Quincy pulled me aside and whispered: “Don’t let her appearance fool you. She’s actually very fragile inside. Don’t say anything more. Oh, and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” I wanted to say something else, but Kaia was already calling Quincy over. Quincy gave me a little push and went over to her. Then she tossed my blanket and pillow onto the sofa. Quincy is too kind-hearted. At dinner, Kaia’s foot kicked me under the table. I ignored her. She took off her high heels and rubbed my foot with her stockinged toes. I simply stood up and said I was done eating. Quincy asked what was wrong. I just said I was full. After dinner, Quincy even scolded me in private for my bad attitude, saying I was giving Kaia the cold shoulder because I didn’t want her staying here. I didn’t want to argue, I just wanted to go to sleep quickly. The two women had a lot to chat about. The voices from the bedroom didn’t quiet down until after 10pm. I had a busy day with all kinds of things stressing me out. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep. Around 1 or 2am, I suddenly felt someone rubbing against me. I opened my eyes to find it was Kaia. She was wearing a sheer white negligee, seemingly the same one from that first night at her place. “Knox, you haven’t forgotten about me, have you?” With that, she expertly pounced on me. I broke out in a cold sweat. This is my home! And my wife is sleeping right next door!

I remember that time at Kaia’s place, we were on the sofa too. My mind wanted to resist, but my body couldn’t. We only stopped when we heard a sound from the bedroom. Kaia got off the sofa, tossed her hair, and said: “Quincy’s awake. I need to go back. Next time, we’ll continue.” She smiled at me, her eyes full of seduction. I turned my head away, not looking at her, but my mind was filled with thoughts of her. In front of me was a small night light. In its glow, I seemed to see my own pathetic figure sprawled on the sofa. As I said before, where there’s a first time, there’s bound to be a second. And where there’s a second, there will be countless more. And so, unsurprisingly, Kaia and I rekindled our old flame. Having an affair with your mistress right under your wife’s nose – even though I knew it was suicidal, I just couldn’t resist. A few times we almost got caught by Quincy. In those split-second moments, it was always Kaia who covered for me, allowing me to slip away undetected. I even pulled some strings to get Kaia back into the company. This way, we could meet at work too. And where we could meet, we could naturally do what we wanted to do. Kaia told me that Quincy had asked her to keep an eye on me, worried I might have an affair. She giggled as she said this. In her eyes, my wife – her good friend – was the biggest fool in the world. A couple days later, Kaia said her spirits had recovered and she was moving out. Quincy didn’t try to stop her, and even asked me to help Kaia move. Kaia even told Quincy she was going to find a boyfriend who treated her really well. Quincy asked how well. Kaia glanced at me and said, oh, as good as your husband. Quincy laughed, thinking Kaia was joking. There were just a few days left until New Year’s. My parents came to stay with us. They were here to help out, since we had a pregnant woman in the house and everything was inconvenient. Of course, this was mainly my mom’s job. My dad wanted to help but couldn’t do much, so he just did some chores and went grocery shopping. Dad is in great health. He was in the military when he was young. Even in his 60s he looks very energetic, with more black hair than grey. He likes to take walks morning and evening. It was precisely because of this habit that he happened to catch Kaia and me in the act that day. It was actually quite simple. That evening, Quincy asked Kaia and me to come over for dinner. She even asked Kaia if she had any dates lined up, if she’d found a boyfriend yet. Kaia said not yet, but she had someone in mind. Quincy pressed her on who it was, if she knew him. Kaia said it was a secret and changed the subject. I was driving with Kaia in the car when we got to the entrance of our neighborhood. Kaia told me to stop, and I didn’t know what she was planning but I pulled over anyway. She threw herself into my arms, saying she wanted to fool around a bit before going up. Without waiting for my agreement, she started taking action. I’m the type of man who just can’t resist women, especially clingy little vixens like Kaia. I guess I’m one of those guys who thinks with his lower half. After we finished and fixed our clothes, just as I was about to drive into the complex, I suddenly noticed someone standing at the entrance – it was my dad. I broke out in a cold sweat. Dad has always been strict. If he found out…that would be disastrous. That night, Kaia had dinner with us. At the table she had my mom laughing with delight. Dad was smiling too. But whenever our eyes met, the cold glint in his gaze made my heart tremble. After dinner, Quincy asked me to drive Kaia home. At the entrance to her building, she asked me: “Do you want a boy or a girl? A boy, right? After all, you’re an only child, so you have to consider carrying on the family line.” I didn’t say anything. Kaia continued: “Quincy is having a girl, trust me.” “I’d be happy with a girl too. Besides, even if I wanted a son, we could always have another.” “Oh really? Quincy says she won’t have any more kids. She’s a career-oriented woman. It’s already pretty good that she’s having one child for you.” She leaned in close and whispered in my ear: “I’ll have kids for you. As many as you want.” I looked at her coldly and pointed at the car door: “Get out.” By the time I got home, it was very late. I was yawning as I pushed open the door. My parents were both in the living room. Before I could say anything, my dad slapped me across the face, nearly swelling it up. “Dad, what are you–” “You know very well what!” Of course I knew. So I fell to my knees in front of him. “Dad, I was wrong. I just made a mistake. I…I’ve really ended things with her.” Mom tugged at Dad’s clothes, signaling him not to be so agitated. Dad sighed and said quietly: “Remember what you said. End things with that woman. If you keep messing around like this, our whole family will suffer.” I nodded vigorously, telling myself I really had to break it off with Kaia.

The next day, I called Kaia to my office. She came in and casually closed the door behind her, then pulled down the neckline of her top a bit. Seeing I didn’t react, she walked around my desk and sat right on my lap. “Don’t do this.” I told her, trying to push her away, but it was no use. She wouldn’t budge. As a man, if I really wanted to shove her off it would be easy as pie. But for some reason my hands stopped, while my eyes stared fixedly at her chest. From my position, with how she had pulled her top earlier, I had a perfect view down into the valleys of her breasts. She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear: “Seen enough? Want to go to a hotel tonight?” “Don’t do this.” “If you don’t want this, just push me away.” She was right. If I just pushed her away, it would all be over. I should push her away, but my hands and my body just wouldn’t listen. Willpower is a great thing, but I clearly didn’t have any. If I had any willpower, how could I still be entangled with her? She shifted slightly in my lap, stoking my desire. “You need to leave right now. I want to break up with you. I don’t want to see you again.” I blurted out urgently. She giggled: “What, you’re going to deny everything now that you’ve got what you wanted? Or did your dad see us yesterday and tell you to break it off?” “You…” I didn’t know what to say. She always seemed to lead me by the nose. Kaia shifted in my lap again, as if pressing our bodies even closer together. She said: “Just admit it. You like me. You like me more than your wife. I give you new excitement that she absolutely can’t give you. What breakup? You don’t even have the thought of pushing me away. You…” Her mouth moved closer and closer to mine. I could smell that special scent on her body. She was right, there was something about her that attracted me. I was completely infatuated. But no matter what, I had to make a clean break. Otherwise, my life would be ruined. Just then, the office door opened. A subordinate walked in. “Mr. Lin, about this afternoon’s meeting…Mr. Lin…um…” The newcomer was a young woman who had just joined recently. Seeing Kaia and me tangled together, her face immediately turned red. Kaia finally stood up on her own, smoothing her clothes and hair. She turned to the young woman and said: The young woman lowered her head and said: “I’m sorry, I came at a bad time. I’ll leave you two alone.” She was about to back out when Kaia grabbed her arm and pointed at me: “Go ahead and give your work report. I’m leaving.” Then she whispered in the young woman’s ear: “Mr. Lin and I don’t like closing doors. Want to try it with your boyfriend sometime? It’s super thrilling.” I knew it – she had deliberately left the door unlocked. It seems she has no intention of breaking up with me peacefully. She’s pushing things further, trying to force me to divorce Quincy so she can take her place. That’s impossible. Quincy and I have such a deep bond. How could I just end things? Quincy was with me when I had nothing. We’ve been through thick and thin together for so many years. How could I betray her? It’s true that Kaia is better at sweet talk, knows how to set the mood, and is more exciting in private. She… Suddenly I froze, rushing to the bathroom to stick my head under the faucet and douse myself with cold water. I looked up and stared at myself in the mirror, slapping my own face hard twice. Knox, you fucking bastard, what are you thinking? How could you compare your wife to that Kaia bitch?! How could you?! You shouldn’t even have such thoughts. You deserve to be slapped. Quincy is your wife. She’s been through thick and thin with you to build this family. Now she’s pregnant with your child! How could you think that way? You have no conscience! I have to break up with her. I have to cut off all contact. While there’s still time. My phone buzzed. A message from Kaia. “If you want to break up with me, come to the hotel tonight.” She didn’t say which hotel, but she didn’t need to. It was the same hotel where we had met in secret many times. There was even a room I kept reserved long-term. At 8pm that night, I told Quincy I had to work late. Quincy didn’t suspect a thing. In her mind, I was still that honest guy. She had no idea how much I had changed. I went up to that familiar room and knocked on the door. The door opened and Kaia appeared before me. She looked like she had just gotten out of the shower, with only a towel wrapped hastily around her body. The towel was small, exposing quite a bit on top and bottom. Looking closer, her skin was milky white, as if she wasn’t wearing anything at all. Her hair was damp, falling over her shoulders. Combined with that coquettish, seductive expression, the effect was irresistible.

“You’re here. Come in.” She backed up halfway, gesturing for me to enter. I didn’t move. I knew this was a trap. Kaia’s tricks were always the same. I knew them all too well. “I’m here to break up with you.” I paused, then added, “I can give you some financial compensation.” Kaia laughed. “What do you mean? You think you’ve had your fun, gotten bored, so now you can just pay me off and move on to someone new? You think I’m for sale? ” As she spoke, she walked out of the room and wrapped her arms around my neck. I hurriedly tried to push her away, but just like before, even though I’m stronger, once those snakelike arms were around me I couldn’t break free. “Let go. If you keep this up I’m leaving.” “You’re not going anywhere. Come inside with me.” “No.” I flatly refused. She put her hand on the towel, slowly pulling at one corner: “If you don’t come in, I’ll drop this towel right now. After all, you don’t want me anymore, so it doesn’t matter what I do, right?” She actually started to do it, slowly tugging the towel loose. I had no choice. I quickly picked her up and carried her into the room, kicking the door shut behind us. She giggled in my arms, playfully punching my chest. “I knew you wouldn’t let me embarrass myself. Don’t worry, I’m all yours. Only you get to see my body. I…ouch…” I tossed her onto the bed and dusted off my hands: “Didn’t you have some rich boyfriend before?” “Are you jealous?” I didn’t say anything. She came over and wrapped herself around me like a snake again. “Let me tell you, that boyfriend didn’t count at all. I missed you so much then, I just wanted him as a substitute for you. I even left town with him to try to forget you. But in the end, I still couldn’t get you out of my mind.” I glanced at her, not believing a word. She made a sound of agreement and nodded: “If I’m lying, may I drop dead.” I actually started to believe her a little. But so what? I came here to break up with her – to cut things off completely and never see each other again. I said to her: “Let’s talk terms. What will it take for you to leave me alone? Quincy is pregnant now and can’t handle any stress. Just tell me how much money. As long as I can afford it, I’ll definitely…” Before I could finish, she pounced on me, sealing my lips with a kiss. “I don’t want money. I want you.” “But I’m married, don’t you understand? I have a wife!” “Then get divorced. Leave her and marry me.” “I can’t do that.” I shook my head immediately as I said this. Kaia laughed coldly: “You can give Quincy more money to make her leave. After all, she is my good friend.” How dare this woman still use the words “good friend”. At least I know I’m a scumbag. But Kaia doesn’t seem to think she’s done anything wrong at all. She moved in front of me, lying across my legs and staring at me seductively. “Look at me, Knox. Really look at me. I’m better than her, aren’t I?” I didn’t dare look or speak, but I also didn’t leave. “How about this, Knox. I agree to break up with you.” She stood up and said to me. I felt a bit happy, with a hint of disappointment. I asked her: “Really? Then…what are your conditions?” She slowly pulled open her towel, letting it slide to the floor. Her skin was as smooth as satin: “The condition is that you spend tonight with me. Let’s have one last wonderful night together, to give me a memory to hold onto.” She came over and pushed me down onto the sofa. I embraced her. For the sake of breaking up, let’s do this tonight. Consider it a farewell fling.

“Honey, the baby and I are heading out,” I called, standing at the door with the stroller. I took one last look at my husband, sprawled on the couch watching a football game. Silently, I bid him farewell in my heart: Oh, darling, may you rest in peace. Chapter 1 “Honey, Xixi and I are heading out,” I called, pushing the stroller towards the door. I took one last look at Yannick sprawled on the couch watching the game. Silently, I bid him farewell in my heart: Goodbye, dear husband. Have a nice trip to hell. Back at work after maternity leave, I was missing my baby girl terribly. Unable to wait until the end of the day, I made an excuse to my manager and headed home early. As I approached our apartment door, I heard voices inside. “Don’t worry, she won’t be back for at least another two hours,” a man said. It was my husband, Yannick. “Hmph, who was it that spent half an hour putting your precious daughter to sleep last night, neglecting me?” a woman replied coyly. My mind went blank. I heard Yannick patiently coaxing her: “Once she’s dead, my daughter will be your daughter too. The baby’s too young to know any better – whoever feeds her is her mom.” Soon, unmistakable sounds of intimacy reached my ears. I stood frozen, realizing with horror that my husband was cheating on me. Yannick and I were high school sweethearts. We went from school uniforms to wedding gowns. After three years of marriage, life had settled into a quiet routine. Earlier this year, he quit his programming job to open a small shop, saying he wanted to help care for our daughter after she was born. He didn’t want me to be a “widow with a child” – raising our baby alone while he worked long hours. I was moved to tears at the time. Business at the shop was decent, and Yannick hired an assistant. During my pregnancy, he doted on me endlessly. Just last night, we were planning to move out of this apartment building next month. We had already finished renovating our new house and the formaldehyde smell had dissipated. I was full of hope for our future together. I never imagined reality would hit me like a ton of bricks. It was a scorching August afternoon, the sun merciless at 3pm. I don’t know how long I stood there before I saw a tall woman with wavy hair walk out of the building. I hid behind a car, catching my reflection in the window – my postpartum body looked swollen and out of shape. There was a time when I too was slim and took pride in my appearance. Yannick had weak sperm. He said he didn’t care if we had a boy or girl, as long as we had a child of our own. Otherwise his life would be meaningless. For that, I endured hundreds of hormone injections before we finally conceived our daughter. It was nearly 6pm when I returned home with groceries. Hearing me, Yannick shuffled out in his slippers. “You’re back, honey. I made some mung bean soup – it’s in the fridge. Want some?” “Sure, pour me a bowl,” I replied casually as I changed my shoes. But my mind was reeling from what I’d overheard earlier: “Once she’s dead.” Yannick wanted to kill me. Not only was he cheating, he wanted me dead. Perhaps the shock had numbed me, but I felt eerily calm. At dinner, Yannick mentioned his mom wanted to come help with the baby, since I was back at work and he was busy with the shop. I thought for a moment and asked, “But we only have one bed. Where would your mom sleep? Why don’t we just move to the new house in the next couple days?” To my surprise, Yannick fell silent. “I can sleep on the couch. It’s fine for summer. You two can take the bed.” I nodded. “Alright, it’ll be nice to have your mom’s help.” I’d found it strange before – our new house had been ready for a while, but Yannick kept putting off moving in. Now I understood. He was planning to move in with his mistress after getting rid of me. After cleaning up, I put Xixi to sleep. Yannick pulled out an insurance policy for me to sign. He’d first brought up insurance when I got pregnant, saying we needed to plan ahead now that we were parents. An accidental death policy would provide security for our child. So his policy and mine both listed our daughter as the sole beneficiary. It sounded perfectly reasonable. “The accidental death benefit is $100,000?” I asked, looking at the payout amount on the policy while secretly clenching my fist.

Just then, our neighbor Mrs. Wilson dropped off some peaches. She said a friend had given her a whole crate and she couldn’t eat them all. “What are you two up to?” Mrs. Wilson adjusted her reading glasses, her gaze falling on the insurance papers on the coffee table. Yannick explained, “Oh, Chloe and I are thinking of getting some accident insurance.” “Look, it says here it pays out $100,000. Is that for real?” I asked in a deliberately naive tone. “Yannick compared several insurance companies and says we should buy now before the prices go up. He’s been pestering me to sign.” Mrs. Wilson’s interest was piqued. “Oh my, insurance is painful to pay for but really comes through when you need it. My husband was diagnosed with lung cancer recently and the critical illness policy our son bought paid out $30,000!” Yannick gave me a “see, I told you so” look. “I don’t know much about insurance. He says it’ll give us peace of mind,” I shrugged. “Maybe we should think about it some more.” Mrs. Wilson agreed with me: “Accident insurance isn’t the same as health insurance. In life, you’re much more likely to get sick than have an accident.” Mrs. Wilson didn’t notice, but Yannick’s expression froze for a few seconds when she said that. “Insurance is all about protection. You never know if tomorrow or an accident will come first,” Yannick joked. “If I die, at least I can leave some money for you and Xixi.” I punched his arm. “Don’t say things like that.” “Tsk tsk, you shouldn’t joke about such things,” Mrs. Wilson waved her hand. She chatted with us a bit more before leaving. Before bed, I went to the bathroom to wash up. “Bzzt bzzt” – A faint noise came from the water heater. This water heater was quite old. We’d bought it used from the previous tenants when we moved in. Last year we’d talked about replacing it with a new one, but since we were planning to move to the new house soon, we’d been making do with it. I stood there holding my toothbrush cup, staring at the old water heater lost in thought. Back in bed, Yannick was still on his phone. When he saw me come in, he quickly flipped the screen face down on the sheets. There was a baby monitor on the bedside table so I could check on Xixi while at work. “Honey, do you really want to buy that accident insurance?” I asked, raising my voice slightly. Hearing me say that, Yannick suddenly rolled over. “That insurance is really good, let me tell you…” He launched into a long analysis of the benefits. I yawned. “Alright, it’s too late now. Let’s sign tomorrow.” “Okay!” In the dim light, I saw Yannick’s eyes gleaming with excitement. The next morning, I went downstairs and was about to ride my electric scooter to work when Yannick rushed out holding the insurance papers, urging me to sign. Just then, Mrs. Wilson and some other neighbors were returning from the morning market. Seeing us, they asked, “What’s Yannick holding there? He looks in such a hurry.” “It’s that insurance from last night. He wants me to sign it,” I said as I wrote my name ‘Chloe Sharp’. I smiled at the neighbors, “What can I do? He makes the big decisions in our family. Gotta run, I’m going to be late for work!” I rode off on my scooter. In the rearview mirror, I saw Yannick holding up the signed paper and kissing it, his whole demeanor radiating joy. At work, I sent Yannick a text: Honey, the water heater at home seems broken. Can you take a look? Ten minutes later Yannick replied: OK, got it. The perfunctory response was expected. He was probably daydreaming about moving into a big house with his new wife after getting the huge insurance payout. How could he be bothered about a water heater we’d used for 7-8 years? I typed into the search bar: “What causes a water heater to explode?” After browsing the results, I deleted all my search history.

At 5:30pm, the new intern Yonng noticed I hadn’t moved and asked with a smile, “Chloe, aren’t you in a hurry to get home to your little sweetheart today?” “My husband’s looking after her,” I said, waving my phone which showed the bedroom camera feed. Yannick was bent over the crib, playing with Xixi. “I’m going to stay late and finish the monthly report.” “Ugh, you’re making us single people jealous again!” Yonng said enviously. “I need to find a husband who’s willing to look after kids too!” I smiled without responding. From now on, I wanted everyone around me to think Yannick and I were blissfully in love. After finishing the report, I was about to leave when Sam from IT walked over and whispered, “Just a heads up – don’t use the company computers for personal stuff these days.” “Why not?” I asked. “Well, with the company’s performance down last quarter, management’s cracking down on discipline. They’ve got us monitoring the backend to see if anyone’s browsing shopping sites or celebrity gossip during work hours…” Sam shook his head helplessly. Then he seemed to remember something and asked, “By the way, what’s wrong with your water heater? I saw you searched about it quite a bit.” I froze, my whole body tensing up. Then I realized – why should I be nervous? I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was just concerned about potential safety hazards with our home appliances, that’s all. “Oh, I came across some videos of water heaters exploding. It was pretty scary. And our water heater at home is pretty old too,” I said casually. “Water heaters should be replaced after about 8 years, right?” Sam said. His phone rang and he turned away to answer it. I clenched my slightly trembling fingers and left with my bag. It was almost 8pm by the time I got home. Yannick was humming a tune and taking photos of Xixi curled up on the sofa with a camera. When he saw me come in, a flash of unease crossed his face. “Did you buy that?” I asked, pointing at the new outfit Xixi was wearing. “Yeah, just got it delivered today,” he said, putting down the camera. “Are you hungry? Want to go eat at the restaurant downstairs?” “When did you buy a camera? You never mentioned it,” I walked over to the sofa and picked up the camera, flipping through the photos. I noticed Yannick’s composition was really professional, even better than the professional photographer we hired for Xixi’s one-month photos. Yannick’s expression turned hesitant. “I… I was afraid you’d say I was wasting money… But babies change so much every day, I wanted to document her growth.” “You could have discussed it with me. Just don’t keep secrets,” I said, still scrolling through the photos. Suddenly Yannick snatched the camera away. He had me sit on the sofa and started massaging my shoulders. “Honey, you’ve had a long day at work. Don’t get upset over little things like this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the camera, okay?” I looked at the man in front of me. “I never knew you were so good at photography.” “I just learned recently. It’s not that hard,” Yannick said, picking up the camera again. “Honey, strike a pose. Let me take a few shots of you.” Just then, Xixi suddenly started crying. I quickly went to pick her up. “Go take out the trash,” I told Yannick. “And pick up two takeout meals on the way back.” “Okay,” Yannick was about to grab his phone. “Leave it charging,” I said, pulling some cash out of my pocket. “Here’s some money. Might as well use it up.” Yannick took the money without hesitation and left with the trash bag. I watched from the window until he exited the complex, then immediately grabbed Yannick’s phone and unlocked it. The password was Xixi’s birthday. Out of trust, I had never checked Yannick’s phone before. This was the first time. He was so confident leaving his phone at home, certain that I would never invade his privacy. I opened WeChat and saw several new messages from a contact named “AAA Alina – Bloom Kidswear”.

The latest one said: “Hiking is the easiest way to create an accident. There’s no one in the mountains…” I couldn’t see the rest of the message since Yannick hadn’t opened it yet. I couldn’t click in to view the full chat history, but I could guess what it was about. The insurance policy was just signed, and they were already itching to put their plan into action. I put the phone back and picked up the camera to continue looking through the photos I’d been viewing earlier. I noticed several shots of Xixi wearing a thick baby sleeping bag. From the camera angle, it seemed the focus wasn’t on Xixi, but on the clothes themselves. Babies actually have a higher body temperature than adults. In several photos, Xixi’s hair was damp with sweat. Anger boiled inside me. Just then, Yannick returned. “Why did you take these? It’s 30-40 degrees out – what if she overheats?” I demanded, holding up the camera. Yannick froze for several seconds before walking over to explain: “The seller said they’d send another sleeping bag for free if I posted photos. Don’t worry honey, I had the AC on when I took the pictures.” I stared straight into his eyes. “You made our daughter sweat buckets just for a free piece of clothing?” Yannick’s anger flared. “What the hell, Chloe? What are you implying? She’s my own daughter – you think I’d abuse her?” “Why are you getting so defensive? Did I say you were abusing her?” I shoved the camera in his face, raising my voice. Yannick knocked the camera out of my hand and stormed out. SLAM! The door slammed shut. I closed my eyes and comforted Xixi, who was startled by the noise. Yannick didn’t return until almost midnight. He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I’m sorry honey. I shouldn’t have lost my temper at you.” I didn’t respond. Soon, he spoke again: “Let’s go hiking in a few days. Once my mom gets here, she can watch Xixi. It’s been so long since we’ve had time to ourselves.” Yannick’s tone was almost pleading, reminiscent of when we first started dating. Indeed, you can never truly know what’s in a person’s heart. Even with years of shared history, it’s impossible to see through someone’s facade to their true nature. When a man falls out of love, he can turn into a demon, wearing a mask of false kindness as he plots to take your life. “Hiking?” I feigned confusion. “I thought you didn’t like hiking.” “That was before. What programmer likes hiking? We’re exhausted enough as it is,” Yannick said wistfully. “But now that I run my own little business, I can manage my own time. It’s good to get out and exercise.” Yannick continued, “I looked it up – there’s a mountain nearby that doesn’t get many tourists. The scenery hasn’t been modernized, and it’s far from the city center. People online say the air there is amazing!” I listened silently. “You’ve really done your research.” “Of course! I upset my dear wife, so I have to make it up to her,” Yannick hugged me tight. “We can buy a tent and go camping outdoors, just like in college. We’ll stargaze and watch the sunrise. It’ll be wonderful. What do you say, honey?” “Get off, it’s too hot,” I pushed him away. “Let’s decide after your mom gets here. I’m worried she won’t be able to handle Xixi on her own.” Yannick said confidently, “As long as you want to go, my mom won’t be a problem!” I stared silently at the ceiling, inwardly scoffing. He sure was eager to get rid of me. At 2am, after feeding Xixi, I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I turned on the shower. The water rushed loudly, and the old water heater emitted a low hum. Water heater explosions are probabilistic – there’s no way to guarantee an accident will happen at a specific time. Although our unit had reached its maximum lifespan, that didn’t mean it would definitely explode. But if the thermostat, overheat protection, and pressure relief valve were all damaged, who knows what could happen. I tested the water temperature with my fingertips, lost in thought.

Yannick’s mother arrived a few days later, laden with bags and a basket of farm-fresh eggs. “Look at you, just standing there,” she said to me with a smirk, then jokingly scolded Yannick: “She’s a mother now but still doesn’t know how to be helpful around the house.” I took the woven bag from her hands. “Mom, you must be tired from traveling all day. Don’t get upset over little things – it’s bad for your health.” My mother-in-law sat on the sofa with a smile. “My health is just fine. Don’t jinx me!” I was at a loss for words. My mother-in-law always had a smile on her face when she spoke, but her tone was cutting. She always left me feeling stung, not knowing how to respond. She had never approved of me, thinking her son who worked at a prestigious tech company could find a woman with better prospects. Yannick brought his mother a glass of water. “Mom, Chloe and I are planning to go hiking this weekend. Can you look after Xixi for a couple days?” “Fine, fine,” she muttered. “It’s so hot out. You two must be bored out of your minds.” That evening after dinner, Yannick insisted on taking me shopping for camping gear. He seemed unusually excited. “We’re leaving in three days! We haven’t been on a trip together since you got pregnant. I can’t wait! Are you excited too, honey?” “Me? Well…” Last night I had adjusted the water heater temperature to 50°C, but when I used it today the actual water temperature was much higher. As I suspected, the thermostat was broken. No wonder the water had been so scalding hot lately. The overheat protection had clearly failed too, causing it to keep heating continuously. Looking into Yannick’s eyes, I smiled and nodded. “I’m looking forward to it too.” When we got home, Yannick’s mom and Xixi were already asleep. The next day Yannick went to mind the shop. I dressed Xixi and started eating breakfast. “Let’s put this in the living room. I can’t sleep well with it watching me,” my mother-in-law said, moving the baby monitor that was originally on the bedroom nightstand to a shelf behind the TV. She muttered, “What a waste of money, buying useless gadgets.” “Mm, okay,” I had barely finished speaking when there was a knock at the door. It was Mr. Lee, the repairman I’d called to check our appliances. “You must be Mr. Lee,” I said, stepping aside to let him in. I led him to the cramped bathroom. “Our water heater’s been making strange noises lately and the temperature is unstable. Can you take a look and see what’s wrong?” Mr. Lee looked up at the wall-mounted unit. “How long have you had it?” “Almost 8 years,” I said.

On my 22nd birthday, my uncle discovered my diary. After learning about my secret crush on him, he sent me abroad and spent millions on a lavish wedding to marry his true love. At the airport, he coldly warned me: “Never have inappropriate thoughts again.” Years later, I returned with a child in my arms. He was shocked: “Is this yours?” I nodded with a smile: “Yes. I just finished my postpartum recovery.” Sitting on the plane, I still felt dazed. I never thought that after five years abroad, I would have the chance to come back. After all, Orion had said that in this lifetime, I’d better never appear in front of him again. But it was also he who personally bought me a ticket back home, inviting me to attend his and Melissa’s wedding anniversary celebration. After two layovers, I finally landed. Uma had been sleeping peacefully on the plane, but once we got off, she started crying. “Mommy, my feet hurt,” she whimpered softly. Hearing Uma’s quiet sobs, I quickly picked her up and walked towards the exit. At the arrival gate, I turned on my phone, ready to call a cab. Just then, my phone rang. Seeing the familiar number on the screen, I fell silent, unsure whether to answer or not. In the end, I didn’t pick up. But a second call came through almost immediately. I sighed and finally answered. Orion’s voice quickly came through. After years without talking, his voice hadn’t changed. “Are you out of the airport? I sent an assistant to pick you up,” Orion said in a businesslike manner, as if we were strangers. I laughed bitterly, “I can get a cab myself.” There was silence for a second; Orion probably didn’t expect me to say that. After all, back then, I had been well taken care of by him. During my years by his side, all my needs were met – I never had to worry about transportation. After a moment of silence, Orion spoke casually, “Let the assistant come anyway. I bought a gift for Melissa on your behalf, it’s in the trunk. You can bring it directly when you come for dinner.” Orion was still so thoughtful, considering even the gift situation perfectly. Of course, when he spent millions on the venue and commissioned a limited edition diamond to create a unique wedding ring for Melissa, it was clear how much he loved her. “Alright,” I said, rubbing my forehead and responding softly. Orion didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t hang up either. After a while, Orion finally spoke: “Yara, after five years abroad, I hope you’ve really reflected on things. If you do anything to Melissa, I won’t let you off easy.” Hearing this, I was stunned. The noise around me seemed to fade away. Orion said he wouldn’t let me off easy. Before I could respond, Orion had already hung up. Actually, Orion could rest assured. I wouldn’t do anything to them. I just wanted to take good care of Uma and find a job. As I left the airport, I lowered my head. The proud 22-year-old me probably couldn’t have imagined that my life would end up in such a miserable state. I was sent abroad by Orion on my 22nd birthday. That day, Orion discovered my diary. When I was young, my parents died in a cruise ship accident and never returned. Orion naturally took over my care. My relationship with him had always been harmonious. Until I became an adult, I realized I didn’t just see Orion as an uncle. I liked him. But I also knew very clearly that there was no future between Orion and me. So I wrote all my feelings in my diary. If Orion hadn’t seen my diary, I probably could have pretended that my feelings for him were just those of a niece for her uncle. But Orion saw it. He tore up my diary and asked me how I could have such disgusting thoughts. “Don’t you know I’m your uncle! Even without a blood relation, we can only be family!” The usually gentlemanly and refined Orion was no longer gentle, shouting at me with disgust in his eyes. At that time, I wanted to explain, but couldn’t explain anything. In the end, I could only keep bowing and apologizing, saying I was wrong, that I shouldn’t have fallen for him. But Orion didn’t calm down. The next day, he resigned from the job I had lined up, and under the guise of studying abroad, sent me to a remote university overseas. To prevent me from contacting the outside world, Orion even hired bodyguards to watch me. At first, I didn’t understand why Orion treated me this way. Until the first month after I went abroad, news of Orion’s marriage went viral. Only then did I realize that all these years, he had always had someone in his heart. I watched Orion’s wedding video over and over again. In the video, when looking at Melissa, Orion’s gaze was gentle and loving. He had never looked at me that way. From that moment on, I knew that Orion keeping me by his side for so many years was just out of sympathy and responsibility. His only love was Melissa. “Miss John, please get in the car,” the assistant’s voice brought me back to reality. I nodded and got into the car with the sleeping Uma. When he saw Uma, the assistant’s face showed a hint of surprise: “Miss John, this is…?” I made a shushing gesture, afraid our conversation would disturb Uma’s sleep. After sitting in the back seat, I answered softly: “This is my daughter.” The assistant nodded and fell silent. When he drove to our destination, I was stunned. This hotel was where Orion and Melissa got married. Five years of marriage, he held a wedding anniversary celebration every year, and personally selected gifts for Melissa. I thought, Orion really cherished Melissa. In previous years, he didn’t allow me to enter their world. Inviting me back this year was probably just to let me witness their happiness. I numbly got out of the car and saw Melissa smiling as she walked towards me. Unlike my haggard appearance and simple clothes, Melissa wore expensive jewelry and perfume, looking well-cared for by Orion. Melissa’s smile suddenly froze. I knew she had seen Uma in my arms. Sure enough, when she came to my side, Melissa’s expression was very surprised: “Yara, how did you secretly have a child abroad without telling me? I’ve been married to your uncle for so long, you still treat me like an outsider.” Before I could speak, Melissa took Uma from my arms without asking. Uma woke up and immediately started crying, struggling not to let Melissa hold her. I took Uma back from Melissa and comforted her for a while. Actually, Melissa knew about my past crush on Orion. Returning this time, I didn’t want to get too involved with Melissa. But Melissa still stubbornly wanted to hold Uma. When Melissa and I arrived at the hotel’s private room, Uma was still crying and wanting me to hold her. Melissa forced a smile and handed Uma back to me: “Your uncle knows having children isn’t easy. We haven’t thought about having kids these past few years. Seeing you’ve had a daughter, I got too excited.” There were already several people sitting in the room. I wasn’t used to socializing, so I chose a corner seat, and Melissa sat down next to me. She enthusiastically linked arms with me, introducing me and Uma to the others. The looks others gave me were visibly teasing and probing. I couldn’t stand the strange atmosphere here and said I wanted to go to the restroom. When I came back after washing my face, I heard Melissa’s voice. Someone asked Melissa why she brought in an unlucky thing like me. “What unlucky thing, Yara is Orion’s sister. Although she went down the wrong path and tried to seduce Orion before, now that she’s had a child, she definitely won’t make mistakes again.” Hearing Melissa say this, I just quietly stood at the door of the private room. Yes, in others’ eyes, I was just a madwoman who tried to seduce her uncle, a shameless slut. Uma tugged at my clothes uneasily, and I comforted her before entering the room. Some things have to be faced eventually. I don’t know how long passed, but suddenly everyone in the room stood up. “Mr. John is here!” “Hello, Mr. John!” A group of people crowded around him, while I didn’t move, just sitting in my seat. After a long time, I finally raised my head and looked at Orion. He seemed to have lost some weight. Orion wore a suit, with Melissa leaning on him. When they looked at each other, their eyes were full of smiles. Orion was surrounded by people and didn’t notice me in the corner. All these years, he who should have been the center of attention still was, while the only one not doing well was me. Suddenly, Melissa seemed to remember something and pushed Orion with a smile: “Orion, Yara is here too. You uncle and niece haven’t seen each other for so many years, catch up a bit. Yara even brought back a surprise!” Hearing the word “surprise”, Orion remained unmoved, first helping Melissa sit down and ordering her a glass of milk before raising his eyes to look in my direction. Uma shrank into a ball, looking very wary. Orion obviously saw Uma too, his eyes widening suddenly. “Yara, what is this?” He was asking about Uma. I hadn’t told them about Uma, so when they saw me with her, their expressions were all the same – either surprised or looking like they were watching a show. Melissa spoke for me: “Orion, this is Yara’s daughter. Isn’t she cute? She looks just like Yara and seems to be a few years old already.” Orion’s gaze fell on Uma, then on me, examining me for a while. Just when I thought Orion wouldn’t pay attention to me anymore, he asked hoarsely, pointing at Uma: “During these years abroad… you got married and had a child?” I raised my head, looking directly at Orion, and nodded. “I got married a while ago. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”