A friend of mine from the City Development Office told me that the house my parents bought for me might be part of an upcoming Urban Renewal Project. I was eager to share this good news with my husband and mother-in-law. But when I got home, I saw my father-in-law, who had been dead for ten years, sitting there. Mrs. Harrington told me that when Marshall had gone overseas for work, he lost contact. Everyone assumed he had died. Now, Marshall had made money in Switzerland and wanted to bring the whole family to enjoy a better life. When Marshall saw my skeptical expression, his face changed instantly. “Daughter-in-law, what’s with that look? Are you not happy to see me back?” I stayed silent, which only seemed to anger him more. “We’re family, and I’ve come back to give you all a good life. Do you think I’m lying?” But there was something about his face that struck me. I’d swear I’d seen it before on one of those Online Fraud Watch sites. That afternoon, I got a call from my old friend, Olivia, who told me that the area where my parents had bought a house for me was going to be part of the Urban Renewal Project. I was so excited that I went to the market and bought expensive lobster and king crab, intending to celebrate with Everett and Mrs. Harrington. When I got home, there was a stranger sitting on the couch. Mrs. Harrington took the groceries from my hands and pulled me over to the man. “Harper, this is Ben’s father.” Mrs. Harrington’s eyes were red and puffy, her voice hoarse, clearly having just been crying. I stared in shock at the man in front of me, then glanced toward the wall where Marshall’s memorial photo had been hanging. But now, the wall was bare. Seeing my wide eyes and disbelief, Mrs. Harrington sighed. “Back then, when Ben’s father went to Switzerland for work, we lost all contact with him. We thought he had died.” “You’ve only been married to Ben for three years, so you wouldn’t know what happened before.” At that moment, Ben came home with a huge grin on his face. “Hey babe, you’re back!” “Can you believe it? I never thought I’d see my dad again.” As he spoke, tears welled up in Ben’s eyes. Mrs. Harrington and Marshall were also caught up in the moment, the three of them crying and embracing each other. Meanwhile, I stood there, completely bewildered. When Ben and I started dating four years ago, he told me his dad had died long ago, and his mother had raised him alone. I had always felt for Mrs. Harrington’s struggles and was determined to treat her with respect and care. Fortunately, Mrs. Harrington was understanding, and in the three years since Ben and I had married, there had been hardly any conflicts. But now, with this sudden appearance of a father-in-law, I felt a bit lost. At dinner, Everett and Mrs. Harrington were constantly piling food onto Marshall’s plate. I sat there, biting my chopsticks, thinking for a moment before I cautiously asked, “Dad, what were you doing all these years in Switzerland? Why didn’t you ever get in touch?” Marshall raised his head, his eyes darting around before he hesitated and put down his fork, lowering his head so I couldn’t see his expression. “When I first arrived in Switzerland, I didn’t know anyone, and I was robbed of everything I had. I survived by scavenging.” Mrs. Harrington’s eyes were filled with pity. Ben’s eyes also reddened as he clenched his fists tightly. “Later, I found work as a janitor and managed to save up a little money.” At this, Marshall looked up with deep affection toward Mrs. Harrington. “I left promising to make big money and take care of you both, but I was a failure. I only had a few hundred dollars and didn’t have the courage to come back.” Tears streamed down Mrs. Harrington’s face as she shook her head, devastated. “Then, two years ago, I met my current boss and finally started making real money.” “I’ve returned to make up for the years of guilt.” I frowned, feeling like something was off. Even if he didn’t have money, surely making a phone call wasn’t that hard? And from what I knew of Mrs. Harrington and Ben, they wouldn’t have held anything against him, even if he came back empty-handed. Just as I was about to speak, Ben interrupted me. “Harper, Dad’s just gotten back. Let’s let him rest for now. There’ll be plenty of time later.” Before bed, I asked Everett, “Did your dad come back alone this time? Did he say what he’s here to do?” Everett, yawning and barely keeping his eyes open, mumbled, “I think he brought an assistant, but he didn’t really say what he’s here for.” I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, while Everett was already snoring beside me. This whole situation was just too strange. Besides, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen Marshall’s face somewhere before.

The next morning, I walked into the living room and saw Marshall returning with breakfast in hand. He beamed at me, inviting me to eat. He had brought a spread of grits with cheese, fried dough, and cinnamon rolls, all greasy and spicy food. “Harper, I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got what your mother-in-law and Ben enjoy.” I looked at the spread and forced a smile. “Dad, you still remember what they like to eat?” Marshall’s smile faltered for a second but quickly returned to normal. “Of course! We’re family, after all. How could I forget?” “Your mother and Ben always loved grits, especially with extra spice.” I sat down slowly, picking up a spoon and eating the grits absentmindedly. The flavor was fine, but both Mrs. Harrington and Ben were allergic to dairy. And in recent years, Mrs. Harrington had developed high cholesterol, so she couldn’t eat greasy food anymore. Ben couldn’t handle spicy food either. I once secretly put a tiny bit of hot sauce in his dish, and he turned bright red. Maybe Marshall didn’t know about Mrs. Harrington’s health conditions, but their allergy to dairy? That’s something they’ve had forever. ······ At first, I thought Marshall’s sudden return was part of some scheme. I observed him for two weeks, but all he did was take Mrs. Harrington shopping for clothes and jewelry, or give me and Ben cash gifts for no reason. Watching Marshall’s sincerity, I started wondering if I was being too suspicious. Could it be that he really wanted to make up for lost time? One day, when Ben and I were off work, Marshall brought home a man. “This is my assistant, Gabriel Sterling. He’s been busy with work, but he finally had time to come by today.” Gabriel looked a few years younger than Ben, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and looking well-mannered. “Nice to meet you! I’m Gabriel, Mr. Harrington’s assistant.” Marshall then told us that his boss was planning to open a branch of their company here and that he’d be made the general manager. Gabriel had been handling the company’s business over the past few days. Mrs. Harrington and Ben were overjoyed, clearly impressed that Marshall had climbed to such a high position. But something about it felt off. It all seemed too sudden. During dinner, Marshall kept praising Gabriel, calling him talented and giving him credit for helping out a lot. Gabriel, on the other hand, was humble, insisting it was all thanks to Marshall’s leadership. After dinner, Marshall pulled Ben into the office, saying they had some business matters to discuss. I felt increasingly uneasy and snuck to the office door to eavesdrop. I overheard Marshall say, “Ben, this is a rare opportunity. You need to stick with me on this.” Ben replied, “Dad, I know, but is this really legit?” Marshall lowered his voice. “Don’t worry. With Gabriel’s help, everything’s fine.” The more I listened, the more suspicious I became. I returned to the living room to find Mrs. Harrington and Gabriel chatting away. There was something unsettling in Gabriel’s gaze. That night, I shared my concerns with Everett, but he shrugged it off, saying I was overthinking things. Yet my intuition told me there was something more going on with Marshall’s sudden success and this mysterious assistant, Gabriel. Everett brushed it off, telling me to rest. I sighed as I lay next to Everett, who was already snoring away. If things kept going like this, Marshall could sell Ben out, and he’d still be counting the money. As for the Urban Renewal Project, I decided to keep that to myself for now, just in case.

Marshall continued pulling Ben aside for private conversations over the next few days. No matter how much I asked, Ben would just smile and tell me, “Good times are ahead.” For some reason, hearing those words made me nervous. I wanted to confront them and find out what they were hiding from me. But seeing how happy Ben and Mrs. Harrington were every day, I didn’t know how to approach the situation. Besides, I didn’t think Marshall would go so far as to deceive his own son. One day, I came home to find several strangers sitting in the living room. Ben, excited, pulled me over and proudly said, “Harper, we’re getting a bigger house soon.” I was completely confused. Ben and I were just regular office workers. The house we had now had taken years of saving to afford. The thought crossed my mind—did they know my house was part of the Urban Renewal Project? Marshall gave a huff. “Don’t worry, it’s not coming out of your pockets. I’m paying for the upgrade.” I looked at him, shocked. “Dad, you’ve only been back for a month. Where’s the money coming from?” Marshall coughed and gestured toward the two people on the couch. “I’m planning to mortgage this house to them and chip in some extra cash to get you a bigger one.” Seeing that I was still hesitant, Ben tugged at my hand. “Harper, Dad said he’s buying us a place in Silverwood Estates.” “Silverwood Estates?” Marshall assumed I was overwhelmed with excitement and gave me a dismissive glance. “That’s a prime location. Tons of people would kill to live there.” I knew full well how exclusive Silverwood Estates was, but it wasn’t a place people like us could afford. It had only recently been developed, marketed as luxury living, with prices around $1,500 per square foot, and all units were a minimum of 3,200 square feet. For people like Ben and me, living there was a pipe dream. I knew it wasn’t realistic and turned to Ben, hoping he’d snap out of it. “Ben, this isn’t something we can just rush into.” “We’ve only had this house for two years. It’s a good home for all of us.” Ben seemed to waver, looking at Marshall with uncertainty. “Dad, Harper makes a good point. We’re just regular folks, and we’re fine as we are.” Marshall looked irritated. “Ben, why are you so easily swayed?” “I’m the CEO of the company now. Do I need to answer to outsiders just to buy my son a house?” “It seems you’ve forgotten you even have a father.” Marshall was seething, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he breathed heavily. Mrs. Harrington and Ben rushed over to calm him down. In the corner, Gabriel suddenly spoke up. “Although the company is just starting, we’ve already secured several big contracts in under a month.” “And Mr. Harrington’s performance overseas has been stellar for years.” “The company’s chairman is even offering a bonus to Mr. Harrington to help him buy a house as a reward.” His gaze bore into me, as if trying to drag me into a dark pit. “Harper, your father-in-law only wants what’s best for you. Besides, don’t you still have that other house your parents left you?” Ben’s voice held a hint of reproach. Marshall’s anger shifted at Ben’s words, softening slightly. No matter how much they tried to persuade me, I refused to sell the house. “This house belongs to both Ben and me. My name is on the deed.” “Unless I agree, there’s no way you’re selling it.” I threw down those words and stormed off into the bedroom.

I had expected Marshall to pressure me more about selling the house, but days passed without any mention of it, as though the whole issue had never come up. Half a month later, as I was leaving work with a colleague, I saw Ben waving at me from a distance. Standing behind him were Marshall and Gabriel. My heart sank, unsure of what they had come to do this time. Sensing the tension, my colleague made a quick exit. With a heavy heart, I walked over to them. Before I could say anything, Marshall smiled warmly and said, “Sweetheart, I was out of line before. I’ve come to apologize.” I was taken aback, unsure how to respond. Ben chimed in, “Yeah, Dad’s been thinking about it a lot and realized he overreacted.” Marshall continued, “We can take our time with the house. We’re family, after all. We can talk things through.” Hearing this, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders, and my tone softened. “Dad, I’m glad you’re seeing it that way. We can always discuss things calmly.” Marshall then suggested we go out for dinner to talk more. At dinner, though, Marshall kept subtly probing about the location of the other house my parents had left me. My instincts went on high alert, and I answered vaguely. That house had been a gift from my parents when I got married. They were worried about me being far from home and having nowhere to go if anything went wrong, so they bought me a small second-hand house. Who knew that after just a few years, it would end up part of the Urban Renewal Project? Marshall seemed to pick up on my guardedness and lost interest, turning to drink with Gabriel. I frowned, watching Gabriel closely. Even though he was supposedly Marshall’s assistant, why was he attending a family dinner? Since Gabriel had arrived in our lives, Marshall treated him more like a superior than an assistant. The whole dinner felt like a game of hidden agendas, with only Ben getting drunk, blissfully unaware. Back home, I helped Ben to bed, and Mrs. Harrington handed him a large cup of honey water to sober up. I watched as Ben, his face flushed, tossed and turned on the bed. “Harper, I’m going to give you the best life,” Ben mumbled, half-asleep. I sat by the bed, gently patting his back to soothe him. “I believe you,” I whispered. But then he added, “Dad… I know… I know everything…” I froze, leaning in closer. “What do you know?” Ben rolled over and fell silent, refusing to speak. I gave him a frustrated nudge. I knew it. Something about Marshall’s return wasn’t right. Ben’s words kept me up all night. The next morning, as I dragged myself into work with dark circles under my eyes, my coworkers teased me about staying up late. At lunch, the colleague who had left with me the day before pulled me into the break room. She looked at me seriously. “Who were the two men with your husband yesterday?” I blinked in confusion. “That was… my father-in-law and his assistant.” She pulled up an article on her tablet and held it up for me to see. “Does this man and the younger one look familiar?” I stared at the screen and gasped. The man in the article was unmistakably Gabriel. Below his picture was the headline: “Business Fraud Suspect Still at Large.”

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Jade’s life turned upside down when Lucas’s first love showed up out of the blue. She packed up and flew to the States with their son in tow. Everyone said they didn’t give a damn about her. Everyone called her a useless trophy wife, running away with her tail between her legs. Until one day, when she finally stood tall and crushed them all under her heel… 0 Lucas’s first love was back in town. Back in high school, he met Ruby at a writing competition. People said she was pretty, smart, and lively, from a well-off family to boot. Young love blossomed quickly, and they even promised to go to the same college. But fate had other plans. Lucas got into Stanford, while Ruby… well, I’m not sure where she ended up. At first, I thought they broke up because of the long-distance thing. That is, until our mutual friend spilled the tea: “Jade, you won’t believe this. That girl threatened to kill herself if Lucas didn’t give up Stanford and stay with her in China!” Blackmail? Suicide threats? Giving up Stanford? I couldn’t help but chuckle. This plot seemed straight out of some cheesy online novel. Lucas and I grew up together. Our families had been business partners for three generations. When my dad’s mistress showed up and had the nerve to call my mom, she flew back to the States in a rage. That’s how I ended up at Stanford with Lucas. After years apart, he’d grown even more handsome. But maybe because we were too familiar, I never felt that spark with him. Instead, we had this unspoken understanding. Just like our parents’ relationship. I thought my mom would divorce my dad, but she didn’t. She told me, “Love and marriage are different beasts. They’ve been married for years, built trust, intertwined their companies, and established a stable social circle. It’s not something you can easily cut ties with. Besides, the fact that woman showed up herself proves how stupid and incapable she is. If your dad had any real intention of being with her, she wouldn’t have needed to do that.” “But Dad still cheated,” I said quietly, lowering my head. “You always told me, ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater.’” Mom smiled thinly. “Well, the day she claimed your dad was with her at a hot spring, he was actually with me in Hong Kong visiting your grandparents.” I was speechless. “Jade, whether you end up marrying a business partner or not, remember this: don’t let emotions cloud your judgment. Never act rashly.” “Then why did you rush off to America in such a huff?” I asked. Mom smiled again. “How else could I have convinced you to give up Barcelona and come to Stanford?” 0

I’d been played. I’d always dreamed of the romance of Barcelona, wanting to live on an estate surrounded by lavender fields. But as the sole heir to the family business, I wasn’t allowed to just laze around and enjoy life without putting in the effort. So when Ruby asked to meet, I agreed. She eagerly showed me her memories with Lucas, flaunting their matching tattoos. She was as proud as a peacock, and I could barely keep from laughing. “I’ve never seen a mistress so shameless and high-profile. Aren’t you embarrassed?” Lily, my best friend since childhood, had always been fiery and sharp-tongued. “Embarrassed?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “We’re true love. What’s there to be embarrassed about? I’m here to make you face reality. Stop deceiving yourself and burying your head in the sand like an ostrich, pretending I don’t exist. Let me tell you, Lucas said I’m the one he loves most, cares about most, and can’t let go of. You’re just a stay-at-home wife with nothing in common with him. What’s the point of clinging to the title of Mrs. Mu? Just divorce him. I’ll make sure Lucas gives you a generous alimony. You’re still young…” SLAP! Lily’s face was red with anger as she struck Ruby. Ruby was stunned for a second, then covered her face and screamed, “How dare you hit me!” In the quiet private room, her shriek caused the well-trained waiters to peek through the curtains, asking if we needed any help. I was stunned too, not because Lily had hit her. But because Ruby was screaming like a shrew, even trying to pull Lily’s hair. And she actually said I was clinging to the title of Mrs. Mu? Me, a housewife? “Tell Lucas to come talk to me about divorce, and I’ll leave immediately,” I said, cutting off her tantrum. Ruby looked surprised. “Even now, you’re still holding on? I underestimated you!” Then she smiled again. “Fine, I’ll have Lucas come talk to you. When he does, don’t cry and beg not to divorce.” I nodded, then pulled Lily up to leave. “Hey, you haven’t paid the bill!” Ruby called out as we were leaving. I glanced at the untouched afternoon tea set priced at $399 on the table and smiled faintly. “The owner is a friend of mine. The waiter will put it on my tab. If you like it, feel free to take the leftovers home.” 0

In the days that followed, Lucas never brought up divorce. Everything seemed normal, except he sometimes came home a bit later from work. When I asked, he just said an old classmate was looking for investment in a new startup project, and he was still considering it. I told him to send me the details. Sure enough, Ruby’s name was on the list of founders. Looking at the company’s messy accounts and pitiful revenue, I shook my head. With the economy in a slump and companies cutting costs left and right, she had the nerve to try and scam money with such a shoddy company. Dream on! “What do you think?” Lucas asked. I hadn’t told him about Ruby showing up yet. Lucas and I had been married for years and had a son. We were planning for a daughter when Ruby suddenly appeared. But as my mom said, Lucas and I were more of a business alliance. Our families were deeply intertwined, childhood sweethearts with a complex relationship. Pulling one thread could unravel the whole tapestry. So I didn’t believe he would cheat, let alone divorce me. “I think we need to be cautious. You know this area better, so why don’t you handle it?” I said, nodding slightly, feeling a bit relieved. I handed him a bowl of soup I’d made specially for his weak stomach. The next day, I arrived at the company with a prepared proposal. I rarely came to the office these days due to our baby plans, so many old employees were surprised to see me, looking eager for gossip. The new employees didn’t even recognize me. Just as I reached Lucas’s office door, I heard Ruby’s familiar voice: “Lucas, please help me. This is my dream!” Lucas didn’t respond. I knocked lightly and pushed the door open. Ruby was sitting next to him on the couch. When I entered, not only did she not stand up, but she even moved closer to him. I glanced at her dress, cut so low you could almost see her underwear, then calmly placed the documents on the desk. “Am I interrupting?” “Not at all, honey. This is Ruby, the one I mentioned,” Lucas jumped up from the couch like he’d been electrocuted, quickly moving to my side to introduce us. “Ruby, this is my wife, Jade.” I caught a flash of resentment in Ruby’s eyes as she looked at Lucas with an innocent expression. “Jade is so beautiful. I can’t believe you never mentioned her.” What a joke. Who was she to deserve a mention? Besides, mentioned or not, didn’t she show up anyway? Lucas looked uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but laugh, “There’s no reason to discuss family matters with outsiders all the time.” I handed Lucas the thermos I’d brought. “I heard you have a dinner meeting tonight, so I made this specially. I have afternoon tea with Mrs. Zhou and the others, so I’ll head out first.” Years of understanding meant Lucas knew what was inside without opening it. He nodded with a smile. “Thank you for your trouble.” But Ruby wouldn’t let it go. “I’m going to that dinner with Lucas tonight. Jade, what’s this good stuff? Can I have some too?” Lucas frowned, putting the thermos on his desk. “You can’t just drink someone else’s medicine!” “Is it some folk remedy for hangovers?” Ruby pouted strategically. “I used to think those TV shows where housewives always brewed weird concoctions were just making stuff up. I didn’t expect…” She covered her mouth and laughed. But neither Lucas nor I were laughing. On the contrary, the atmosphere in the office grew tense as Lucas’s face darkened. Lucas’s grandmother was a top doctor in China. This soup was her recipe for Lucas’s weak stomach. Clearly, Ruby didn’t know this. I sighed. From the start, I felt this woman was missing something upstairs. She didn’t seem like Lucas’s type at all. But if it were anyone else, Lucas would probably be furious by now. Yet his patience with Ruby exceeded that for others. He didn’t respond, just gave Ruby a complex look. “Jade knows a lot about the food industry. Ruby, if you’re serious about this, you should talk to Jade first.” Huh? I was taken aback. I could understand Lucas not wanting to directly refuse Ruby’s shabby company’s financing. But what was this about the food industry? Wasn’t Ruby’s company’s main product some kind of couples’ app according to the documents? Seeing my confused expression and silence, Ruby, clearly missing a few brain cells, started talking flippantly. “Lucas, you don’t really think Jade knows about the food industry just because she spends her days having tea and meals with friends, do you? There’s quite a difference. Besides, I want to open a cat café. The main customers are white-collar workers and students…” She looked at me challengingly as she spoke. “We can discuss business matters ourselves. I won’t keep Jade from her shopping and afternoon tea!” I was speechless. Was Ruby putting on an act? Even if she’d done the bare minimum of research, she couldn’t be this stupid! Me, the Young Miss of the Jones family, with a PhD in Economics from Stanford Business School, only good for shopping and drinking tea? Did she know how much it cost for me to give one lecture? Looking at her smug expression, even showing disdain and contempt towards me, I was sure she didn’t know. Even if she knew I graduated from Stanford, she’d probably stubbornly believe my degree was fake or bought. Lucas was clearly struggling to keep his composure. I could see he was holding back. But I didn’t understand why he was holding back. Was it because she was his first love, and he couldn’t bear to hurt her? “I have something to attend to later. Ruby, just do as I said. For the project follow-up, you can discuss with Jade,” he said, picking up his constantly ringing phone and quickly walking out. As the office door closed, only Ruby and I were left in the room. With Lucas gone, she didn’t need to keep up the act. She looked at me coldly. “You’re really patient, aren’t you? Running to the company, bringing soup, showing concern… all to win him back. But you saw it too. We’re business partners who can support each other, progressing side by side. And you? You can make soup? Any housekeeper can do that. Other than that, what can you do besides shopping, drinking tea, and spending money?” “I can discuss your project with you!” I pointed at the documents on the desk, adding with a smile, “That’s what Lucas said.” “Hah!” She sneered, her eyes full of contempt. “You don’t really believe that, do you? Lucas was just being polite, saving face for you. He’s afraid you’ll accuse us of transferring your marital assets this way. You think he respects you? He’s worried you’ll make a scene at the company and cause trouble for him!” I looked at her like she was an idiot. Putting aside whatever Lucas had done to give her such confidence. Even if it were true, how could she so casually discuss transferring assets with me? Was something missing in her brain? My silence made Ruby even more smug. She continued, “Lucas’s kindness to me isn’t just this. You heard it too, he’s taking me to that important dinner tonight. And he said before me, he never took any other woman. Do you know what that means? It means I’m the most important, the only woman in his heart. You’ve been married to him for so long, and he’s never taken you. How pitiful…” She stared at me intently. “You must feel wronged, right? Go ahead and cry if you want. It’s okay. Actually, failing in love or marriage isn’t a big deal. You’re not bad-looking, and even if your family background isn’t great, Lucas will give you enough money to live comfortably. You should let go when it’s time. Otherwise, if things get too ugly, be careful you might not even get alimony!” I finally couldn’t hold back anymore. I burst out laughing. Not just at her bizarre logic. But because she never understood that I didn’t care about intangible things like love. What I cared about were tangible things that kept the power in my hands. Like career, money, power, and marriage. Like the fact that Lucas and I had a child. And like the fact that I held the power of life and death over her project. I told her coldly not to daydream. We wouldn’t invest in either her bug-ridden app or her cat café. But Ruby was full of confidence. “Jade, use your brain. The fact that I can be here, that Lucas dared to mention this to you, proves he values it. He will definitely agree.” I watched her sway out of the room, then opened the office window. The heavy perfume scent was blown away by the wind, along with my unwavering certainty. That night, I didn’t sleep, waiting for Lucas to come home instead. At four in the morning, a drunk Lucas stumbled through the door. Our live-in housekeeper, Mrs. Wang, grumbled as she helped him to the bedroom. The room was instantly filled with the strong smell of alcohol and the pungent perfume from the office earlier. It was Dior J’adore, a fragrance I never used. “Jade, I’ll go make Lucas some hangover soup,” Mrs. Wang said, noticing my displeased expression and quickly leaving after setting Lucas down. “Honey,” Lucas slurred. “Mm. Sit up, I need to talk to you,” I said, pushing away his arms as he tried to hug me. “That Ruby came to see me before. She said you two were in love and told me to divorce you.” Lucas’s arm noticeably stiffened. He mumbled incoherently, face down on the bed, repeating over and over, “Jade, honey, I love you.” Then, loud snores filled the room, and my heart sank a little. I knew he was faking it, and I also knew you could never wake someone pretending to be asleep. But he couldn’t keep sleeping forever. I planned to have a good talk with Lucas when he woke up. But I ended up sleeping until late morning, and Lucas had already left for a business trip. Worse still, Mrs. Wang came to tell me that our son, Ethan, seemed to have a fever. 0

I quickly called the driver to take Mrs. Wang and me to the hospital. Thankfully, it wasn’t flu season, and the private hospital wasn’t busy. The admission process was quick too. I stayed by Ethan’s side until he fell asleep, then left him with Mrs. Wang and went to the small living room in the suite to eat something. By now, Lily was furious, slamming the table in righteous anger. “Jade, I’m telling you, Lucas must be involved with that woman. Call him right now. Forget about business. At a time like this, make him come back. I want to see what’s more important to him – money or you and the child?” “There’s no comparison,” I shook my head. Unlike her lack of composure, I was heartbroken but trying to stay rational. “There’s no rush for these couple of days. He can’t keep avoiding it forever.” “You… but Ethan is sick!” Lily exclaimed. “Ethan’s illness is for doctors to treat. Lucas isn’t a doctor,” I replied. “You!” Lily was fuming. “You’re just too good to Lucas. You’ve spoiled him!” “Is that so?” I smiled. I wasn’t doing this for him. I was doing it for our child and myself. I didn’t want to tear everything apart without solid evidence, only to end up labeled as a shrew and become a laughingstock for Ruby and other ill-intentioned people. It would leave me in a passive and awkward position. “It’s not good? He might have gone on this business trip with that woman!” Lily glared at me, frustrated. “That’s not necessarily true,” I said, finishing the last bite of cake and pointing out the window. “Look, she’s here.” “What?” Lily, still angry, yanked open the hospital room door. Seeing Ruby walking over, she immediately started cursing, “You’re like a dog, aren’t you? Sniffing out meat and following it here!” It’s no wonder she said that. Ruby’s intel was remarkably quick. Even my parents, who were playing tourist at a nearby attraction, hadn’t arrived yet, but she was already here. “I heard Ethan was sick, and Lucas wasn’t around, so I came to check on him. I even brought a gift!” Ruby said, unfazed by Lily’s outburst. She placed a gift box containing a drone on the table, then looked at me. “Jade, did you not sleep well last night? You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.” She smiled. “Is it because Lucas told you he agreed to invest in my cat café?” “What?” I had been indifferent until now. But this statement truly surprised me. However, I maintained my composure. “Is that so? He didn’t tell me. But any decision he makes still needs my approval as a company shareholder.” I pushed the gift on the table back to her. “Take it back. My son doesn’t need anything from you.” “Oh?” Ruby feigned shock, smiling at me. “But I saw he quite liked everything. Those blue and white shoes last month, that pair of overalls, and the Lego set Lucas brought home a few days ago… you don’t know? I helped Lucas pick all of those.” With that one sentence, she completely shattered my psychological defenses! Instantly, I felt my blood boiling. If it was just about the investment earlier, I could still stay calm. But now, I absolutely couldn’t tolerate this! All thoughts of good manners went out the window. This was my son, who I carried for ten months and gave birth to with great difficulty. Who was she to interfere? How dare she try to get involved! I was shaking with anger, grabbed the box on the table, and hurled it at Ruby!

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My husband watched me miscarry while he was in the car with his new love. When he tried to reach out to me afterward, I told him that unless he was a vegetable, I wasn’t interested. A year later, I read in the news that he had, in fact, become a vegetable. When I lost my baby in the car accident, my world shattered into a million irreparable pieces. I was drowning in a sea of despair, but Milton was nowhere to be found. He happened to be driving by, his sleek car a glimmering facade under the late afternoon sun. I caught a glimpse of him through the chaos, his lips locked in a passionate embrace with his female assistant, her laughter ringing like a cruel mockery in my ears as they waited for the traffic light. Our eyes met for a fleeting second—his filled with indifference, mine bursting with unfiltered pain. And then, without so much as a flicker of recognition, he sped off, leaving me stranded in the wreckage of my life. The world around me faded, the sirens and screams drowned out by the deafening silence of betrayal. That same night, while the shadows danced around me in the bedroom, I stumbled upon something crumpled in the corner of our bed—a thong. Red, lacy, and unmistakably not mine. My heart tightened as I held it between my trembling fingers, the fabric a cruel confirmation of the truth I had tried to ignore. My marriage, once a sanctuary, had become a web of deceit—a lie that ensnared my heart in a suffocating grip. In that moment, clarity washed over me like a tidal wave, pushing away the remnants of denial. I could feel the storm inside me churning, but I forced my voice to remain steady as I reached for my phone. “Mr. Janathan, I’ve made up my mind,” I said, my voice unwavering, even as fury and heartache roiled within. “I can start at your company.” “That’s wonderful news! ” His enthusiasm on the other end of the line was a stark contrast to the numbness that enveloped me. The second I hung up, Milton emerged from the bathroom He used to take five-minute—quick, efficient, just like everything else in his life. But lately, it was different. Half an hour, sometimes more. Always with his phone in hand, as if he couldn’t bear to be disconnected from whatever affair was consuming him. “Who were you talking to?” he asked, eyes glued to his phone, his voice so casual it stung.

“Mr. Janathan,” I replied, my tone deliberately detached, a mask over the tumult inside me. “Ah,” he mumbled, his eyes glued to his phone, absorbed in a world that no longer included me. With a steely calmness, I opened my phone and began drafting my resignation letter. Each tap of my finger felt like a finality, sealing the fate of a life I had once thought was secure. It was only when he reached for his water cup, expecting the rich, fragrant coffee I used to brew for him every night, that he finally noticed something was amiss. The cup sat empty. He paused, confusion flickering across his features, and then his gaze shifted to me—really looked at me, as if he were seeing a ghost materialize in the dim light of our shared misery for the first time in months. “I consulted a specialist,” he said, his tone dripping with nonchalance, as if offering me a peace treaty. “He said it’s just a minor injury, nothing serious.” A minor injury? The words echoed in my head, taunting me. I turned away, my eyes glued to my phone, fingers trembling as I typed. The resignation letter was nearly finished, each word a stepping stone away from him, from this life, from the wreckage of our love. “Alright,” I replied flatly, refusing to meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his presence suffocating me. That afternoon, I found myself lying on a cold hospital bed, the sterile scent of antiseptic clinging to the air like an unwanted reminder of my shattered dreams. I was numb and exhausted, the physical pain eclipsed by the emotional turmoil churning within me. Ten stitches across my abdomen. But the real pain was something no amount of sutures could fix. I had just found out I was pregnant—a few weeks along, a fragile flicker of life that now felt like a cruel joke. The doctor’s voice was gentle, heavy with an apology I didn’t want to hear. “If you had been brought to the hospital sooner, the baby might have been saved,” he said, his words slicing through me like a surgeon’s scalpel. Milton’s brow furrowed as he took in my expression, his concern momentarily breaking through the wall of indifference he had built around himself. But just then, his phone buzzed, an insistent vibration that shattered the fragile moment between us. He glanced at the screen, a flicker of anxiety crossing his features before he turned away.

The man who had once vowed to be my partner, my rock, was now a ghost, lost in the labyrinth of his own desires. My heart ached—not just for the baby I had lost, but for the love I had thought we shared, now reduced to a mere shadow of what could have been. His lips curved into a familiar smile—the kind I hadn’t seen directed at me in years. It was warm, inviting, and utterly deceptive, like sunlight breaking through a storm cloud. Without a second thought, he turned away, completely forgetting I even existed in the room. As soon as he was out of sight, I unlocked my phone and opened my secret social media account, a portal to the world he thought I couldn’t access. My heart pounded in my chest like a war drum. I scrolled through his feed, each post a dagger that twisted deeper into my heart. Pictures of him laughing, carefree, his arm draped around a woman . She looked vibrant, alive—everything I felt I had lost. With each photo, I felt the walls closing in, the room around me fading into darkness. My fingers trembled as I navigated through the snapshots of his life, a life I had once shared but was now an outsider to. And there it was, a new post. “I shouldn’t have let my love wait.” The words blurred as my vision narrowed, the bright screen becoming a twisted reflection of my reality. He could spare his assistant an apology for a dinner delay, but not a single ounce of regret for the child we had just lost. The notification from Mr. Janathan buzzed on my phone almost simultaneously as Milton walked into the room, a cruel twist of fate. The contract. I clicked the link and signed it without a second thought, sealing my decision to leave this life behind, as if closing the door on a nightmare. The next morning, Milton woke up earlier than usual, which caught me off guard. His routine had been predictable, his presence almost like a ghost haunting the remnants of our home. But today felt different. He returned with pastries, their sweet aroma wafting through the air, an unsettling contrast to the storm brewing inside me. He placed the bag on the table, and as I reached to open it, his hand shot out, slapping mine away with an unexpected force that took my breath away. “You like blueberry butter cookies, right?” he said, his voice unnervingly casual, the kind of nonchalance that stung like a slap. “I got one just for you.” For a moment, time froze. I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. Blueberry butter cookies? For me? They weren’t for me. They were for his precious Alice Winson. “Seven years, Milton,” I said, my voice trembling with restrained fury, each word dripping with the weight of my pain. “Seven years, and you still don’t know I’m allergic to blueberry?” I could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly masked by a defensive shrug. “It’s just a cookie, Sara. —” He froze, his hand suspended midway to his cup of coffee, caught in a moment that felt like a lifetime. I could feel the weight of his annoyance pressing down on me. Without a moment’s hesitation, he stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor with a sound that echoed my turmoil. His voice was cold and biting, cutting through the air like glass. “Stop making a fuss.”

The words hung there, heavy and mocking, a dismissal that burned in my chest. “OK,” I shot back, the words sharp and deliberate, “tell your girlfriend not to leave this on my bed anymore.” Milton’s brows knitted together, confusion flashing across his face as he took the bag from me, the tension coiling tighter between us. When he peeked inside and saw the lace thong, the color drained from his face, and for a split second, shock etched every feature. It was as if the truth had slapped him, the reality of his betrayal suddenly laid bare. But then he met my calm, indifferent expression—one that didn’t seek further lies, . For the first time, I saw him hesitate, the facade flickering like a dying flame. “I’ll tell her to stop being so careless,” he said, his voice cool. Sensing the shift in my mood, Milton offered, almost offhandedly, “I can buy you something else for breakfast today.” I blinked, stunned, the words hanging in the air like a cruel joke. Seven years. Seven long years together, and not once—not once—had he ever brought me breakfast in bed, or even suggested sharing a morning meal. But Alice? His precious assistant? On her very first day, she was already receiving the kind of attention and care I had yearned for, a privilege I’d never been afforded. As I stood there, the realization twisted like a knife in my gut, he was already at the door, back to me, his hand gripping the handle as if it were a lifeline. He didn’t even bother to turn around, didn’t care enough to face me. “Something urgent came up at the office. You should feed yourself,” he muttered, his voice flat, devoid of warmth or empathy. Half an hour later, I limped into my cubicle. My colleagues greeted me with an unsettling mix of sympathy and concern, their gazes lingering just a moment too long, as if they could see the cracks in my façade. I couldn’t help but overhear two coworkers talking in hushed voices, their words slicing through the air with cruel precision. “So it’s true—Milton really ditched Sara for his assistant?” one of them asked, disbelief mingling with gossip. “Yep! You should’ve seen it this morning! Alice comes in, says she’s got a headache, and Milton swoops in, picks her up right there in the lobby, in front of everyone,” the other replied, laughter tinged with malice. My hand slipped, and the mug shattered on the floor with a deafening crash, silencing their gossip. I crouched down, the cool tile pressing against my knees, and gathered the piece. Each shard felt like a betrayal, sharp and jagged, cutting deeper into the already festering wound that was my marriage. I ended up working late, the office nearly empty as the hours dragged on, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead like the heartbeat of a dying relationship.

“Sara,” Milton muttered, his voice low and too close, his breath brushing against my ear like an unwelcome ghost. He draped his coat over me, an attempt at warmth that felt more like a shackle. “Why didn’t you respond to my messages?” I didn’t bother turning around. Instead, I glanced at my phone, the screen glowing with his latest message: [What flavor of dessert do you usually like?] A bitter laugh threatened to escape as I stared at the words on my phone. I had asked him for desserts once, back in the early days of our marriage. His response still echoed in my mind, sharp and cruel, like a slap across my spirit: “Desserts? You want me to buy desserts for you? Don’t make me sick with this childish crap!” Now, the same man was pretending to care, clutching a small box of desserts in his hands as if it were a peace offering. How laughable. The very sight of it made my stomach turn, a mix of sweet nostalgia and bitter resentment churning violently within me. I ignored the sweet scent wafting from the box, its sugary aroma a stark contrast to the bitterness coating my tongue. Instead, I kept my eyes fixed on the stack of papers in front of me, focusing on the mundane details of my work as if they could shield me from the chaos swirling around us. I could feel his confusion hanging in the air, a palpable shift that weighed down the space between us. His voice broke the silence again, soft but edged with uncertainty. “Sara, I don’t understand. I thought… I thought you’d appreciate this.” “I get a stomachache from desserts now,” I replied, dismissive, my tone as flat as I could make it. Then, his voice dropped, colder than before. “Let’s go home together after,” he muttered, the command hanging between us like a guillotine poised to drop. Barely thirty seconds after he walked away, Milton’s phone lit up on my desk. The brightness pierced through my cloud of thoughts, and I glanced at the screen—Alice’s name flashed like a neon sign, a mocking reminder of his betrayal. The message blinked at me, tauntingly innocent: [Nobody sends a bunch of roses made of desserts all at once?] I shifted my gaze back to the computer, my face blank, fingers moving mechanically across the keys. Each stroke felt like a countdown to liberation, a farewell to the life I had been suffocating in. We got home a little after six. The moment I stepped out of the car, a fire ignited within me. I marched straight to the bedroom, my heart racing as I grabbed my suitcase and began to pack. Clothes, shoes, memories—it all went in without a second thought, each item a testament to the years wasted in a loveless marriage. When Milton walked in, freshly showered and towel-drying his hair, he froze. His eyes drifted to my vanity, the half-empty surface betraying what I had been doing—packing my life away. He frowned, but it wasn’t the concern of a husband; it was mild curiosity, like noticing a chair out of place in a meticulously organized room. “Hey,” he said, his tone casual, “I’m going on a business trip to Milan next month. If you want anything, just make a list, and I’ll grab it for you.” “Nah. I don’t want anything. Thanks anyway.” In a few days, I’d be gone. No gifts, no gestures could fix that now. Suddenly, the air in the room shifted, thickening with tension. Milton tossed the towel onto the bed with a force that echoed my frustration, his eyes narrowing into cold, sharp slits as he bore down on me. “So, what?” he snapped, his voice hardening, cutting through the silence like a knife. “You’re upset because I bought you the desserts?” But before I could muster a single word, he scoffed, dismissing me as if I were a fly buzzing around his head. “Sara, you’re out of line,” he said, his words dripping with disgust, as if I were some inconvenient piece of furniture he was too weary to move. Before I could respond, he turned on his heel and stormed into his own bedroom, slamming the door with a force that reverberated through the walls, making them tremble like the remnants of our crumbling marriage. Seven years. Seven long, excruciating years of this twisted dance. He was always the first to retreat, the master of silent treatments and emotional lockouts, delivering his punishments without a word. Each time, I had bent, humbled myself, and tried to patch the fractures in our relationship. But this time , I felt a shift deep within me—a steel resolve solidifying with each breath. I raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his childish display, and turned off the bedside lamp with a decisive click, plunging the room into darkness.

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He claimed it was just borrowing sperm, a simple transaction. Yet every holiday, I found myself with only half the gifts, forever the afterthought, the leftover. This isn’t just a secret; it’s a betrayal that her husband deserves to know. Because how can I ever find my true love if I remain shackled to the ghost of their deceit? Elena’s post hit like a slap in the face, but this slap came slow, deliberate, savoring every sting it left behind. The ultrasound was the centerpiece—a blurred, wriggling shadow growing inside her. And the caption—god, the caption—dripped with condescending sweetness. “Thank you to my dear Mike for lending me the gift I needed when I was most helpless. Soon, we’ll meet our little miracle.” As if Mike had merely donated a pen, a book—something insignificant. Not like he’d lent her sperm. My fingers hovered over the screen for what felt like an eternity. Every letter of my comment seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. “Congratulations to both of you,” I typed, my heart shattering with each word. And yet, as I hit send, it was as if I’d just let go of the last thread of dignity I had left. Mike’s voice came through like a thunderclap, full of fury and disdain. “I just lent my sperm to Elena, can you stop making a fuss?” The coldness in his voice had settled deep into my chest, numbing the ache that once throbbed there. It was clear—it’s time to let go. I placed my trembling hands over my slightly bulging belly. The life growing inside me was supposed to be our future,and I had planned to surprise Mike on our anniversary, imagining his face lighting up with joy. But now, that fantasy shattered before me. He didn’t deserve it—didn’t deserve us. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the baby inside me, my voice breaking. This was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter, a fresh start. Instead, it was a quiet farewell, to a life that could have been, and to a man who never truly cared. The dam inside me broke, and tears began to spill down my cheeks. Mike never wanted this, never wanted us. The intimacy between us had been hollow for years, each touch empty, each kiss colder than the last. That night, Mike came home early, something he rarely did. I heard him call my name from the hallway, his voice carrying a forced warmth that made my stomach turn. But I couldn’t answer him. I lay still in the bedroom, the silence between us thick, like an ocean of words unspoken. The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom, and with each drip, my heart sank deeper. The sound of the water stopped, and the door creaked open. In the darkness, I felt him—his presence as undeniable as the ache in my chest. He moved quietly, deliberately, like a shadow slipping into the room. I could hear his soft footsteps, the rustle of his clothes, but I refused to move, to acknowledge him. Then, out of nowhere, he was beside me, his arms wrapping around my waist. It was the first time in what felt like forever that he had reached for me, touched me as though I mattered. His warmth seeped through my thin pajamas, an unexpected and unsettling comfort. His body pressed against mine, but my heart was already miles away, frozen like stone. My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I kept my breath steady, unwilling to let him see the storm raging inside me. This sudden tenderness wasn’t love. It was a last gasp. “Wife, I lent my sperm just to help her fulfill a wish. I promise, as soon as she gives birth, I’ll end things with her completely.” The flattery in his tone, the pleading—it was hollow, like he was trying to plaster over a gaping wound with flimsy words. His voice shifted, the tone growing sharp, laced with impatience. “I’ve been so humble to please you, aren’t you satisfied?” “Don’t forget it was you,” he continued, his words biting, “You said you want to be with me no matter who I had been with.” “I could have kept it from you, but I told you out of respect, and now you’ve really disappointed me.” . “Think carefully about how I’ve treated you recently,” his voice laced with frustration. “You want a child, and I’ve tried my best to accommodate you.” With that, he slammed the door, the echo of it reverberating through the room, leaving me gasping for air, drowning in the suffocating darkness. Mike had disappeared before dawn, vanishing like a ghost, leaving the house cold and empty. I was alone, and the weight of it crushed me. The silence was unbearable, and a part of me knew—I deserved this. I had allowed myself to fall so deeply into this trap, to believe in a love that had long since withered. The phone rang several times, and I reluctantly answered. It was John, one of Mike’s colleagues, expressing concern with a kindness I couldn’t even register. But in his well-meaning words, he let something slip. Mike hadn’t been at work recently. He’d been with her—taking care of Elena. My heart shattered, but I had no time to let the pain consume me. I dragged myself to the hospital, every step heavy with dread, knowing what I had to do. I couldn’t bring this child into a world where love didn’t exist, where the only thing waiting for us was abandonment and betrayal. The abortion was quick. Too quick. Ten minutes was all it took for the life inside me to be erased. When they wheeled me out, I felt hollow, like a shell of the person I used to be. My face was pale, my hands trembling as I numbly handed over my credit card to pay the bill.

But fate, cruel as ever, wasn’t finished with me. As I turned to leave, I saw him. Mike. Standing there, holding Elena by the shoulders, his face twisted in anger. He spotted me before I could slip away, and in an instant, his expression darkened. “Are you following me?” he barked, his voice filled with accusation, as though I were the one intruding on his life, as if I were the problem here. My body still ached from the procedure, my heart even more so. Instead of answering Mike, I turned my gaze to Elena. She shifted uncomfortably under my stare. But rather than confronting the weight of the moment, she feigned anger, pulling Mike’s ear playfully, her voice dripping with insincerity. “How can you talk like that? Why would Mary follow us? We’re open and honest with each other, and it’s not like Mary doesn’t understand.” All I could manage was a bitter smile, tinged with the sharp taste of irony. “Yes, what does it have to do with me if you and your wife come for a prenatal checkup? Why would I follow you?” But Mike’s anger flared, and his voice sliced through the tension. “What do you mean? I only regard Elena as my sister!”

3 Elena’s eyes glinted with mischief as she accused Mike, her voice dripping with mock outrage. “How could you do that?!” she yelled, but that sly smile gave her away. A wave of nausea hit me, and I leaned heavily against the wall, gritting my teeth against the pain. Suddenly, she collapsed dramatically onto the ground, clutching her stomach and wailing, “I can’t believe this is happening!” The absurdity of her antics clashed with my suffering, amplifying the tension as I struggled to rise, feeling utterly betrayed by the chaos swirling around me. “Mike, don’t!” I wanted to scream, but the words lodged in my throat as he rushed to Elena’s side, leaving me behind. “If anything happens to Elena, I will never forgive you!” he shouted, his voice echoing in my ears like a death knell. A cold sweat broke out across my skin as pain coursed through me, each pulse feeling like a knife cutting deeper. “I’m even more glad I didn’t have this child,” I thought bitterly, irony and sadness twisting in my chest. “How can a man who doesn’t even love his wife truly love her child?” When I finally made it home, my hands trembled as I reached for my phone, desperate to pour out my resentment and pain. But then I saw it—Elena’s post. The image of Mike’s back loomed like a shadow, the caption cutting deep: “With a man who loves me like this, I feel safe.” Jorge’s comments stung like venom, each word dripping with disdain. “You’ve been with Elena for so many years, and everyone knows you can’t let go, so why don’t you follow your heart?” His sarcastic tone ignited a fire in me, fanning the flames of my anger. I couldn’t hold it back any longer; my fingers flew over the screen as I typed, “We’re getting divorced soon. I can’t believe you’ve been worrying about Mike for all these years.” As I hit send, a surge of satisfaction coursed through me, washing away the weight of unspoken grievances. Then, I opened my Moments and selected two pictures, one of which was a pregnancy report, and the other was a miscarriage report. A complex emotion surged in my heart, and I typed: “Finally I can be free.” At that moment, it seemed that all the repression and pain were released in this sentence.

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My boyfriend won $20 million in the lottery and immediately broke up with me. “Our social classes are different. You’re too low for me.” Then he turned around and hooked up with that girl at work. I laughed. He forgot that lottery ticket was from the previous draw. I rolled down the window of my Maserati and said to them, “You two are way too low for me.” 1 “Let’s break up, Harper Westbrook! I just won $20 million in the lottery.” Chase Collins stood in front of me, his expression smug as he spoke those words. “All because of that?” I asked, looking up at him. “Of course! You’ve probably never even seen that much money, have you? My mom says there are different classes of people. Now that we’ve made it to the top, you and I aren’t on the same level anymore.” I couldn’t help but laugh. $20 million, and they think they’re part of high society? I didn’t even have time to tell him that my dad owns several buildings that rake in more than $20 million in rent every year, not to mention his companies. But it’s fine. Honestly, I was glad to get rid of someone like him. Better to cut ties early. No tears over love, only sleepless nights thinking about money! Chase glanced at me. “By the way, even though you paid for the $50 lottery ticket, I’m the one who bought it. So don’t expect a penny from me.” He’d always had this habit of buying lottery tickets, dreaming of getting rich overnight. But when it came time to pay, he’d always have an excuse—his phone was dead, or his payment wasn’t working. Right, because the bank really cares about a few bucks, right? “My mom doesn’t like you either,” Chase added. “She thinks you’re too tacky. Remember last time you met her? All you gave her were some cheap, no-name gifts. You embarrassed us.” I shot back, “God must’ve spilled wisdom all over the world, but your family held up an umbrella!” I still remember the first time I met his mom. I gave her a pure wool scarf designed by an Italian luxury designer, worth five figures, and a bottle of French court perfume. Now it’s apparently a ‘cheap, no-name gift’ to them. Like a catfish splashing water, suddenly thinking it’s seafood. He continued, “I won’t argue with you because I’m an elite. But since we’re breaking up, let’s settle things. Why don’t you sell back the gifts I gave you?” Typical Chase. Even winning the lottery doesn’t change his stinginess. “No need! I still have all the stuff you gave me! I’ll return every bit of it.” “Your $9.99 skincare set? I was too scared to use it, in case it ruined my skin! “That $19.99 shirt and tie set? I didn’t want to wear it in case I broke out in hives! “And that $10 box of bread? I was worried it’d make me sick, and even the medical bills wouldn’t cover it!” The crowd around us burst into laughter. Chase’s face turned red as he snapped back, “Don’t just bring that up! What about all the money I gave you? Didn’t I send you cash on holidays?” “Sure did.” I nodded, pulling out my phone to check the records. Valentine’s Day: $5.20, Fourth of July: $6.60, Christmas: $8.80… “You’re so thoughtful. So generous!” I laughed. Even my cousin in elementary school gives me more than that. I used to think he was so sweet and attentive that I didn’t care about the little things. But now? Looking back, I must’ve had water on the brain. Enough to fill the entire Lake Michigan! Chase puffed out his chest. “That was the past! Things are different now. I’ve won $20 million! I can buy whatever I want, and you no longer deserve to be with me!” I nodded. “Alright then. In that case, why don’t you return the gifts I gave you?” Chase laughed. “The stuff you gave me? It’s all knockoffs, isn’t it? How much could it be worth?” Chase grew up poor. His dad passed away early, and he and his mom depended on each other. To protect his fragile ego, I always cut the tags off the gifts I gave him, and they didn’t have any flashy logos. “That belt you’re wearing? Gucci, limited edition. $10,000. “Those shoes? C-brand, $15,000. “That jacket? Also C-brand, $30,000.” I listed them off, one by one. Chase’s face fell. “You think I’m an idiot? You couldn’t afford the real thing. You must’ve just bought some knockoffs to fool me!” Right, because he couldn’t tell real from fake. I pulled out my phone. “Here’s the purchase history and receipts. If you don’t believe me, go check with the store.” “And the scarf and perfume I gave your mom? They weren’t any cheaper than the stuff I gave you. But I’ll let that go. Just give me $100,000 for everything else I’ve gifted you.” In reality, I’d spent over $200,000 on him over the years. But if he gave me $200,000, his mom would probably make my life a nightmare. Chase gritted his teeth. “Who knows if what you gave me was real or fake? Let’s call it $50,000. I’ll give you $10,000 now and the rest once I cash in the lottery.” Fine by me. Even though it’s a drop in the bucket compared to my bank balance, who says no to more money? 2 After receiving the $10,000 in my account, I stood up and said to Chase, “Thanks, Chase. That’s the first time you’ve been so generous!” He looked pained but still spat back, “Good. Don’t ever come looking for me again, loser! “And don’t ever try to contact me. I’m afraid your bad luck will mess up my fortune.” I nodded vigorously, making sure he saw me agree. After Chase left, I told my driver to bring my Bentley around from the garage. I’m done pretending. That night, Chase posted on Instagram. There were two photos: one of the lottery ticket, and another of him taking a selfie at the Maserati dealership. The caption read: “Just focus on two things: working hard and loving yourself. Luck will follow you if you smile enough. 😊” I almost gagged on my dinner. As I was about to delete him, something about that lottery ticket caught my eye. The numbers weren’t fully shown, but the draw number was clear: 38

But… the winning numbers for draw 381 didn’t match those! I quickly looked up the results online and realized Chase had mistaken the previous draw’s numbers as the winning ones for his ticket. He probably watched a replay or looked at the wrong draw number, thinking he’d won $20 million! This was about to get interesting. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he learned the truth. 3 Midway through work, I was sneaking a break when I overheard Savannah Moore, the office gold digger, bragging to a coworker. “My boyfriend just moved into Ridgewood Heights.” I froze. What a coincidence. My dad had bought me a place there too, though I rarely stayed. Since Chase worked nearby, I’d given him a key to use the place when he worked late. I told him it was rented. He moved in without a second thought, never considering the rent probably cost more than his monthly salary. I was just thinking about taking back the keys when Savannah said, “He calls me his lucky girl. Ever since we got together, he won $20 million!” Everyone around her gasped with envy. Wait. Ridgewood Heights? $20 million? Could it really be…? I hesitantly asked, “Does your boyfriend happen to be named Chase?” Savannah shot me a wary look. “You know him? Don’t even think about trying to steal him just because he’s rich. He’s way out of your league!” Of course, it was him! Chase had been seeing Savannah while we were still together? Did he really think Savannah was upper-class material? If my dad knew about this, he’d die laughing. Savannah always flaunted fake designer bags, rotating them every day of the week. In Chase’s eyes, someone who couldn’t even tell real from fake, Savannah must’ve looked like a wealthy princess. Talk about a match made in heaven! Two gold diggers, perfect for each other! Best wishes. Please stay together forever. That night, Savannah posted on Instagram, a photo of her and Chase with the caption: “No more waiting. The one I’ve been waiting for is here.” Five minutes later, Chase posted their picture too, with the cringy caption: “Us.” 4 The manager of my favorite luxury store texted me, saying they’d just gotten new stock and invited me to check it out. Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to swing by. As soon as I walked in, there they were: Chase and Savannah. There was only one sales associate in the store. She glanced at me and completely ignored me, continuing to smile and serve them. Savannah was wearing a logo-plastered outfit, even though it was so last season. Meanwhile, I was in a simple t-shirt and carrying a canvas bag. No wonder the saleswoman thought I wasn’t worth her time. Savannah noticed me too. “What kind of people are they letting in this store?” Chase added, “Harper Westbrook, what are you doing here? You can’t afford anything in this store.” I smiled. “Oh? Did your family open this store? I didn’t know I needed permission to look around.” The saleswoman clearly picked up on the tension and sided with them. “I’m sorry, miss, but the lowest-priced item in our store is $30,000. If you can’t afford it, you really shouldn’t waste your time.” I couldn’t help but laugh inside. She had no idea who she was backing. After showing Savannah several bags, I overheard her say to Chase, “Baby, I want this one, and the second one in that row too.” The sales associate beamed. “Oh, you have such good taste, miss! These are our bestsellers. You’ve got a great eye.” Savannah, pleased, slung the bag over her shoulder and admired herself in the mirror. Then she noticed me. “Harper Westbrook, aren’t you embarrassed carrying around that cheap canvas bag? Aren’t you supposed to have a job?” I was carrying a canvas bag because I planned to go grocery shopping later. Gotta think green, you know? Save the planet. I shot back, “What’s wrong with a canvas bag? Does your family live by the sea or something? Why are you so concerned?” Savannah, frustrated, rushed back to Chase. “This one, that one, and the other one—I want them all!” Chase, trying to sound generous, said, “Buy them all!” The saleswoman’s eyes sparkled with glee. I picked up a black handbag, wanting a closer look, when the saleswoman stormed over. “I’m sorry, miss, but this is our latest model. It costs $150,000 and is only available to our VVIP clients. Please don’t touch it—you might get it dirty.” Savannah laughed. “Harper, don’t get your filthy hands on that bag. You couldn’t afford it even if you sold yourself.” I was about to fire back when a sharp voice came from the entrance. 5 “Who said Harper can’t afford it?” The saleswoman panicked. “M-manager, you’re back!” Amanda, the store manager, walked in and immediately apologized to me. “I’m so sorry, Harper. I went to grab your coffee. This new employee didn’t know any better.” She turned to the saleswoman and added, “Harper is one of our VVIP clients. She gets first pick of all new stock. Only after she passes on something can we offer it to other customers.” The saleswoman’s face went pale, and she hurriedly apologized. Chase’s face turned red. “You must be mistaken. Harper is just a regular office worker. How could she be one of your VVIPs? Don’t let her fool you!” The threshold for being a VVIP at this store is spending over $1 million annually. The manager glared at Chase and Savannah. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask you two to leave. We’re closing the store for Harper.” Savannah huffed. “I wouldn’t shop here anyway! My boyfriend has plenty of money. He can buy me anything I want from any store. You’re all fools for falling for some poor girl’s tricks!” She grabbed Chase and stormed out. I turned to Amanda and said, “I’ll take the entire row of bags. Wrap them up for me.” 6 The next day at work, Savannah strutted around the office, showing off a new handbag. She made sure everyone noticed, circling the room several times. It wasn’t cheap—probably around $50,000. I guess Chase wasn’t completely stingy. I just wasn’t worth his effort. “Oh, this is the bag my boyfriend insisted on buying me,” Savannah said. “I didn’t even want it, but he just had to get it for me.” Coworker A: “Your boyfriend treats you so well! When will I get a sweet romance like that?” Coworker B: “Well, Savannah is gorgeous, and she comes from a good family. Of course, her boyfriend would be amazing. It’s all relative.” Bingo. A broke guy and a gold digger—a perfect match. Savannah walked over to me and said, “You can tell how much a man loves a woman by how much he’s willing to spend on her. Chase told me he never spent much on you when you two were together. How sad!” She wasn’t wrong. He used to buy me $9.99 lipsticks, and I’d pretend to be thrilled. Then I’d gift him designer clothes or shoes in return, always downplaying how expensive they were to protect his ego. I replied, “I was too young to know better. At least I’ve gotten rid of the trash now. “Speaking of trash, what brand of garbage bag are you? You seem to carry a lot.” Savannah’s face darkened. “You’re just bitter because you couldn’t keep Chase. He said you two aren’t even in the same league. Turns out, he was right!” 7 That weekend, I called a cleaning service to go to Ridgewood Heights and throw out everything Chase had touched. Just the thought of him using my stuff made my skin crawl. WWhen I got to the building, I tried to use the facial recognition system to unlock the door, but it kept saying “face not recognized.” Strange. Did I lose weight recently or something? Maybe that’s why the system didn’t recognize me? I was still mulling it over when I heard noise coming from inside the apartment.

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Scarlett had an affair with a married man and ended up pregnant. She had no job, no savings, so I tried to convince her not to keep the baby. But she insisted, saying she believed in destiny and that aborting the baby would ruin her karma and affect her future luck. But when the baby was born, she dumped him on me to raise and went off to “see the world.” I spent half my life raising Logan, my nephew, all the way through to his college acceptance. And then, just like that, Scarlett came back! She told Logan, “You don’t know this, but your Aunt Avery kept telling me to get rid of you when I was pregnant. And after you were born, she basically took you from me. You’re my flesh and blood—of course, I love you.” Logan hated me from that day on. One day, Logan got into a car accident. I risked everything to push him out of the way, and I was hit, thrown nearly thirty feet. As I lay dying, the nephew I had raised with so much love cradled my broken body and sneered softly, “You almost didn’t let me exist, then you kept me away from my mother for years, depriving me of her love. This life and whatever insurance payout you’ve left me—consider it your penance.” A bright white light engulfed me, taking me back to the day Scarlett knocked on my door, her belly just beginning to show. I opened my eyes to see her sitting in front of me, crying as she asked, “Avery, I have no one else. Should I keep this baby or not?” I pulled a coin from my pocket and placed it in her hand. “Sis, you believe in destiny, don’t you? Let the universe guide you—flip it.”

Scarlett stared at the coin, utterly dumbfounded. She looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Because she knew me well. She knew I was tough on the outside but soft on the inside. She expected me to beg her not to have the baby. But if she chose to keep it, she knew I wouldn’t be able to turn away. I’d get attached to the baby, and once I did, she’d use the guilt of me telling her to abort to manipulate me into doing everything for her. She’d done it before. Many times. We were only a year apart, and when our parents died young, we had to rely on the kindness of relatives and my scholarships to get by. I knew education was the only way to change my fate, so aside from working weekends and holidays, I spent every waking minute studying. My hard work paid off. I always scored at the top of my class and received so many scholarships that the money was enough to cover both Scarlett’s and my living expenses. But Scarlett wasn’t like me. She loved reading romance novels and fantasized about being the heroine in some rich love story. She only went to school to scope out guys she could settle down with—potential “success stories,” she called them. When she realized her grades would never get her into college, she decided to start working early, dreaming of being discovered by some rich executive at the office. “Avery, with my grades, do you think it’s even worth staying in school? I feel like I should just start working and save some money instead…” Given our circumstances, I agreed. It made sense at the time. That one word—“yes”—would come back to haunt me for the rest of my life. She couldn’t find a good job and started blaming me, saying if I had pushed her to stay in school, at least she’d have a diploma. She couldn’t find a decent man and blamed me again, saying if I hadn’t convinced her to drop out, maybe she wouldn’t have been looked down on for her lack of education. I felt guilty, so I worked part-time while going to college, supporting her the whole way through. I didn’t even dare date anyone in college because every break, I’d be working myself to the bone to make sure she was comfortable. It wasn’t until much later that I realized she’d taken the money I earned and borrowed loans to buy luxury brands, playing the part of a high-class woman to attract men. Time and time again, she’d trick me into stepping into these traps, and then use emotional blackmail to manipulate me. She’d been doing it ever since we were kids. But in my past life, I cared too much about the bond of family to see the truth. I let her control me willingly. After I died, my soul floated above, watching as the truth played out in front of me. The car accident wasn’t an accident at all—it was orchestrated by Scarlett and Logan, betting that I would die for the nephew I had raised. They took the life insurance money, claimed my house as their own… and when my ashes were finally returned to them, they tossed the urn into the trash. As the memories of my previous life flashed before me, the pain and bitterness I felt were unbearable. All I wanted was another chance to destroy them both. Fortunately, the universe had other plans. I was reborn.

“Scarlett, flip it! Why aren’t you flipping it? Don’t tell me you don’t believe in destiny?” I waved a hand in front of her face to snap her out of it. She awkwardly picked up the coin, muttering, “Fine. Destiny, give me a sign. Heads, I keep the baby; tails, I don’t.” The coin spun in the air, landed, and flipped over—heads. “Well, looks like destiny wants you to keep the baby! So go ahead and have it.” Before, Scarlett had been working at Mr. Leonard Blackwood’s antique shop when she got involved with him, a married man. He was a smooth talker, convincing her to believe in destiny, using it to manipulate her. He tricked her into buying all these statues and trinkets that supposedly needed to be “blessed” or “worshipped.” She spent her entire paycheck on those things. And she borrowed from me constantly. Well, she called it borrowing—I knew she’d never pay me back. Now, she was pregnant, and Leonard told her his wife had found out, so she needed to leave the apartment he had rented for her. “But if I have the baby, where will we stay?” Scarlett’s eyes roamed greedily around my house, her tone turning pitiful. This house was the one Ethan and I had bought together, our future home. In my last life, Scarlett insisted on keeping the baby, guilted me into letting her stay, and that decision led to disaster. I was blinded by my sense of duty and agreed to help her. That was the beginning of the end. So, this time, I had to stop it right at the source. “That’s easy. Mom and Dad’s old cottage in Bluegrass is still empty. And just last week, Aunt Rachel called me. She opened a little corner market and needs help running it. You can stay at the old house, help her out, and earn some money. You’ll have a place to stay and a way to support yourself. Who knows? Maybe if you have a son, Leonard will come back and treat you like a queen.” Scarlett looked at me like I had suddenly changed into a different person, full of suspicion, but also thinking that what I was saying made sense. Before she could start overthinking it, I quickly called Aunt Rachel and made the arrangements. Now all I had to do was wait for Ethan to get off work and drive her back to Kentucky. “But I still feel like…” Scarlett hesitated. “Don’t worry. Don’t you think this is destiny’s way of showing you the path? Everything happens for a reason, and it’s all part of a bigger plan. Just follow it,” I quickly reassured her, shutting down any doubts she had. After all, in my past life, this was exactly how she had manipulated me. She moved into my house with that pregnant belly and caused complete chaos, single-handedly wrecking the relationship I had with Ethan’s family. In the end, Ethan and I broke up, he moved out, but left the house to me. Before leaving, Scarlett had the audacity to pat my shoulder and say, “Don’t worry, this is destiny’s plan. It’s just showing you that Ethan isn’t the right man for you.” After Ethan moved out, she immediately complained that the guest room was too uncomfortable because of her pregnancy and took over my master bedroom. This time, I wasn’t going to let that happen. No way was I going to lose the man I loved and the future I deserved to these two ungrateful wolves ever again. And I certainly wasn’t going to give up the love and support of the mother-in-law who treated me like her own daughter.

After I dropped Scarlett off at the old family cottage, I immediately dragged Ethan to the courthouse to get our marriage license. Ethan held the license in disbelief. “Honey, slap me. Am I dreaming?” This fool. In my previous life, after we broke up, he never married anyone else. He stayed single. When he heard about my death, he couldn’t even find my grave. He took my old coat, the only thing of mine still at his place, and made a little memorial out of it, talking to it every day like I was still there. Earlier, with Scarlett around, I had to keep my emotions in check. But now that she was gone, I broke down, clinging to Ethan. “You’re not dreaming. I’m the one who had a nightmare. But I’m awake now.” I told Ethan a little bit about my past life. He didn’t believe me at first. So I told him, in a few days, his company would send him on a business trip to Savannah. No matter what, he needed to go. In my previous life, after Scarlett moved in, Ethan’s mom came to visit us. While we were out, Scarlett snooped through our bedroom drawers, and his mom caught her. They argued, and Scarlett, being pregnant, wasn’t backing down. She pushed Ethan’s mom, and she hit her head on the corner of a table. Ethan had to stay and take care of his mom, missing out on a business trip that would have secured him a huge contract and a promotion. The colleague who went instead got that contract and spent the next twenty years climbing higher and higher while Ethan was stuck in a rut. Sure enough, three days after Ethan’s mom arrived, he was notified about the Savannah trip. This time, without Scarlett around to cause trouble, Ethan’s mom and I got along perfectly. Nothing interfered with his trip. Ethan finally believed me about my rebirth. He always listened to me before, but now, he was practically hanging on my every word. Just as we returned from the airport after dropping Ethan off, Scarlett was standing at the door with her suitcase. “Avery! You’re finally back!” “I have to tell you, Aunt Rachel’s cooking is terrible. I’m so used to your cooking!” “And her store? She wants me to wake up at nine in the morning. You know I’m pregnant—I can’t get up that early!” “Seriously, how do you expect me to live like this, huh?” The moment Scarlett stepped into the house, she started her endless complaints, nagging non-stop until she noticed the guest room—the one she used to stay in—was now filled with Mrs. Florence Caldwell’s things. She finally stopped talking and turned to me. “What’s going on here?” “Oh! Sis, I was just about to call you. Ethan and I got our marriage license! And Mom has already moved in with us.” I smiled as I took Mrs. Caldwell’s hand. Scarlett froze for a moment, clearly stunned. She had spent so long trying to brainwash me, convincing me that everyone from my in-laws’ side, especially my future mother-in-law, was an outsider. She always warned me that getting too close to them would only bring bad luck. And now, here I was, living with my mother-in-law. Scarlett gave me a look that screamed, “Have you lost your mind?” She didn’t even bother to greet Mrs. Caldwell before dragging me into another room to talk in private. “Avery, are you even listening to anything I’ve ever told you? Didn’t I warn you that Ethan’s mom is nothing but trouble? And now you’ve actually let her move in with you? Are you trying to drive me insane? And what about this house? There are only two bedrooms—if she’s staying in one, where am I supposed to stay?” I raised a finger to my lips. “Shh…” I gestured for her to follow me to the window seat where I had set up a little altar with a small jade Universal God statue I had bought for thirty bucks online. “Sis, keep it down. Don’t disturb the God …” “What the…?” Scarlett stared at me, bewildered. After all those years of her trying to brainwash me, I had always resisted this kind of superstition. I’d often tell her not to waste her money on these things. Now, all of a sudden, I looked like a devout believer. “Sis, you don’t understand. It’s because of you and your belief in destiny that I’ve been blessed. Destiny came to me in a dream and told me that Ethan is my perfect match, but only if he lives with his mother to fulfill his duty. That’s the only way we’ll ever achieve real success.” “Guess what? Ever since I followed that guidance and moved Mrs. Caldwell in, Ethan’s been sent to Savannah to negotiate a multimillion-dollar deal. If it goes through, his promotion is guaranteed. And we’ll even be able to afford a bigger house—three bedrooms!” “Sure, his mom is a bit of a handful, but hey, she’s basically our ticket to fortune! But, sis, you’re pregnant, and I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable here.” “Besides, I heard Mrs. Blackwood is still looking for you. You gave this address on your job application, right? If she shows up here, all your hard work could go down the drain.” “You should stay at the old family cottage for now. Once things settle down, I’ll bring you back.” As I painted the picture of a bright, successful future, Scarlett’s previously dull eyes lit up with excitement. She was convinced that if Ethan succeeded, it meant she’d be in for a windfall too. When we walked back into the living room, she was practically beaming at Mrs. Caldwell, addressing her with overly sweet “Auntie this” and “Auntie that.” Poor Mrs. Caldwell, who had no idea what had just transpired, stood there, completely confused. The truth is, Mrs. Caldwell wasn’t hard to take care of at all. She treated me better than my own mother ever had. I thought back to my previous life and how I had sided with Scarlett so many times, letting Mrs. Caldwell down repeatedly. Even when Ethan and I broke up, and he left me the house he had put the down payment on, she didn’t oppose it. The guilt I felt was overwhelming. After I got Scarlett out of the house, I took Mrs. Caldwell on a much-needed shopping spree. We’d always lived so frugally that it felt good to spoil her a little. “You two just got married. You’re going to need money for so many things. Don’t waste it on me…” she protested. “Don’t worry, Mom. Ethan and I are both moving up in our careers. Money won’t be an issue. But next year, we’ll need to head out of town for work. While we’re gone, you’ll need to watch over the house and make sure no one gets in.” At this point, Mrs. Caldwell hadn’t yet realized the full extent of Scarlett’s antics. But based on our past interactions, she knew I had always been the type to put my sister first, what some might call a “sibling servant.” She had tried to talk to Ethan about it many times. Now that I had finally come to my senses, Mrs. Caldwell was relieved. She told us not to worry and assured us that she’d take good care of the house. Before long, just as I predicted, Ethan successfully closed the deal in Savannah. The company didn’t hesitate to promote him, though the new position required him to spend a year at their Savannah branch. Without a second thought, I applied for a transfer to our company’s Savannah office as well, ensuring we’d stay together. Not only would this prevent our relationship from suffering due to the distance, but it also conveniently allowed me to avoid Scarlett’s constant pestering for a while. There was another reason too. From my memories of my previous life, I knew that in a few months, the new industrial park in Savannah would need supplies. In my past life, the deal had fallen into the lap of an unqualified receptionist who didn’t even know how to leverage it. This time, I was prepared. I had all my materials ready, and before they even started looking for suppliers, I was already reaching out, building connections with the procurement team. I even got the proposal pre-approved by my company. Opportunity favors the prepared, and sure enough, a few months later, I secured the deal. The seven-figure commission hit my account just as expected. During that time, Scarlett kept trying to get in touch with me, but I used the “destiny” excuse to dodge her every time. Aunt Rachel would call me now and then, saying Scarlett was still acting crazy, spending all her money on statues and Universal God figurines. She wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t take care of herself, and just kept offering things up, hoping destiny would treat her the way it had treated me. Months later, when destiny didn’t deliver, and things kept getting worse for her, she snapped and burned all her statues in a fit of rage. After that, when she found out we had left for Savannah, she decided to sneak back to our house, thinking she could just slip in. But when she opened the door, there was Mrs. Caldwell, sitting at the table with Ethan’s two aunts, Violet and June, playing cards. Mrs. Caldwell was sharp. She had worked as a high-level manager for a national company before retiring, known in her younger days as a no-nonsense, iron-willed woman. In my past life, out of love for me, she had tolerated Scarlett’s antics so I could focus on my job. She had squeezed into the tiny two-foot entryway, sleeping on a makeshift bed. Scarlett had constantly tormented her, trying every trick in the book to drive her away. Mrs. Caldwell endured it all for my sake, never wanting to cause me any trouble. But this time, with my full blessing, Mrs. Caldwell fought back. Scarlett didn’t stand a chance. She failed every time and couldn’t even get past the front door. And just like that, a year passed. Ethan’s internship was completed, and with my outstanding performance, I applied to return to headquarters to take on a leadership role. Scarlett, however, must have caught wind of something. She was waiting on my doorstep with a three-month-old Logan in her arms, ready to stir up trouble once again…

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When Mrs. Campbell handed me a $5 million check to leave Ryan, I didn’t hesitate for a second. I had spent five years by Ryan’s side, giving him the best years of my youth without any official status. This $5 million didn’t seem like much in comparison. The news spread quickly to Ryan’s ears. I later heard that he had even skipped his most important meeting to rush over that day. When Ryan arrived at the apartment he had bought for me, I was in the middle of packing my things. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ryan’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. After being with him for so many years, I knew this look. He was furious. “Mr. Campbell, is it really that hard to understand? $5 million to break up with you – seems pretty straightforward to me,” I said, trying to smile and maintain my composure. My words only served to infuriate Ryan further. He practically growled, “You’ll regret this once you’re gone!” With that, Ryan stormed out, slamming the door behind him. To be fair, Ryan had treated me well over the years, at least materially. He had kept me like a pampered bird in a gilded cage, never skimping on designer bags, luxury clothes, or expensive watches. If I had stayed with him, I would have certainly received more than this $5 million. But I was tired of it all. If I hadn’t recently heard that Olivia Parker was returning from abroad, I might have almost forgotten my true status in Ryan’s life. Olivia was Ryan’s fiancée, the one Mrs. Campbell had always approved of as a suitable daughter-in-law from an equally prestigious family. I managed to pack up my belongings in less than half an hour, feeling rather proud of my efficiency. After leaving the apartment, I had nowhere to go, so I ended up at my best friend Lucy’s place. Unfortunately, I arrived to find Lucy’s boyfriend was also there. Watching the loving couple together made me feel like a third wheel. Lucy gave me an apologetic look, and since I hadn’t given her any advance notice, I decided to go to a hotel instead. Coincidentally, it was a hotel Ryan and I used to frequent. Sometimes when he’d had too much to drink, we’d check in here to rest. Ryan rarely lost his composure in front of others, even when drunk. But on the rare occasions when he did overindulge, no one could handle him except me. His secretary would always call me whenever Ryan had too much to drink. As I was checking in at the front desk, the receptionist recognized me. She smiled and asked, “Is Mr. Campbell not with you today?” I shook my head and replied matter-of-factly, “Mr. Campbell and I are no longer together.” The receptionist seemed taken aback by my candid response and looked a bit embarrassed. After all, my relationship with Ryan had been well-known in certain social circles. Ryan was a famous bachelor in the business world, and I was… well, his mistress. Once I had checked in, I decided to treat myself to a relaxing bubble bath. Rose petals floated on the water’s surface, their gentle fragrance filling the air – it was my favorite. Ryan had always been allergic to flower pollen, so I had never been able to enjoy a flower petal bath before. As I lay in the bathtub, watching the steam rise, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. I stayed at the hotel for three whole days until Lucy came to find me. Lucy knew about my breakup with Ryan and suggested we go on a trip together to help me clear my head. However, the day before we were supposed to leave, Lucy’s company had an emergency that required her attention. Just like that, our girls’ trip turned into a solo adventure. In the end, I decided to go to Chiang Mai, Thailand, by myself. As soon as I boarded the plane, I received a call from Ryan. The phone rang for a long time, until a flight attendant came over to remind me that the plane was about to take off and I needed to switch my phone to airplane mode. Just before I turned off my phone, a message from Ryan came through: I’ll only say this once. Come back when you’re done with this nonsense. Reading that short line of text suddenly reminded me of something that had happened four years ago. Four years ago, after I had been with Ryan for a year, I suddenly learned about Olivia’s existence. That night, I drank a lot and threw a tantrum for the first time. Ryan was working in his study at the time, and I came home drunk. Ryan never allowed anyone to disturb him while he was working, and I had always been obedient. But that night, emboldened by alcohol, I deliberately went to bother him. Wearing a spaghetti strap nightgown, I asked him what was more important – his work or me. That night, he was truly angry. He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and looked at me coldly. “Natalie, I’ll say this one more time. I’m working. Get out.” I didn’t listen, and he threw me out of the study, coat and all. After storming out of the mansion in a huff, I quickly regretted my actions. The neighborhood was in a secluded area, and at night it was completely deserted. To make matters worse, I hadn’t brought my purse with me, which only added to my misery. As I huddled by the roadside, shivering and clutching my coat around me, Ryan came looking for me. His face was ashen as he towered over me and said, “Are you done with your tantrum?” I bit my trembling, purple lips, about to stubbornly retort when a sneeze escaped instead. Perhaps it was because I looked so pitiful at that moment, but Ryan’s eyes softened slightly. For the first time, he bent down to help me up, but my pride got the better of me and I pushed him away. His hand hovered in the air, and I could tell he was truly angry now. “I’ll only say this once. Come back when you’re done with this nonsense.” True to his word, after saying this, Ryan turned and walked away. I called out to him, “Give me my purse.” “Natalie, I bought that purse for you. If you’re not planning on coming back, you can forget about taking it with you.” At that moment, I suddenly understood the nature of my relationship with Ryan. The Louis Vuitton and Hermès bags I carried, the designer clothes I wore – they were all bought by Ryan. Seeing that I remained silent, Ryan bent down once more and picked me up in his arms. From that day on, I became extremely obedient, staying by Ryan’s side without complaint. And so, five years passed… I turned off my phone, casually deleting Ryan’s message. After a two-hour flight, I arrived at Chiang Mai International Airport. Unfortunately, shortly after disembarking, my bag was stolen. At the police station, the Thai officer eyed my expensive designer outfit. His expression seemed to say, “If they didn’t steal from you, who would they steal from?” Unable to communicate due to the language barrier, with no money and no valid identification, I couldn’t prove my identity. The police pushed a phone towards me, gesturing for me to call someone for help. My parents had passed away when I was very young, and I had been raised by my grandmother. But my grandmother had passed away before she could enjoy her golden years, the same year I met Ryan. He had been like a ray of light shining into my dark life. With no other choice, I tried calling Ryan. I dialed his international number again and again, but the constant ringing only served as a reminder that the light that had once illuminated my life had truly disappeared. I couldn’t remember Lucy’s number, and the police officer across from me was quickly losing patience. It wasn’t until late afternoon that a young American man came to my rescue. His name was Sean Thompson, and he happened to be at the police station that day on business. Seeing me sitting alone in the corner, looking lost, he approached me out of a sense of camaraderie for a fellow foreigner. He used his fluent Thai to help me communicate with the police. After leaving the police station, I got a new phone number, effectively cutting off all contact with Ryan. But occasionally, I would still come across news about him online. I saw photos of him shopping with Olivia, looking at her adoringly. There were articles about the two of them attending ribbon-cutting ceremonies for newly opened hotels, looking like the perfect power couple. And then came the announcements of their upcoming wedding of the century… I decided to stay in Chiang Mai and became good friends with Sean. With Sean’s help, I successfully landed a job at a Thai-American joint venture company. The five years I had spent as Ryan’s kept woman had left me feeling ill-equipped to fend for myself in the real world. Between the language barrier and the demands of my new job, I was grateful to have Sean’s support. Sean and I, two lonely souls adrift in a foreign land, found comfort in each other’s company. But no one had told us that when two lonely people huddle together, it doesn’t necessarily make them feel any warmer. Standing on a balcony with a panoramic view, I smiled and asked Sean, “Why did you choose to stay here?” He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. It was the time of year for the Yi Peng Lantern Festival again. The sky was filled with floating lanterns, their warm yellow light casting a glow on Sean’s chiseled features. I learned his story then. Coming to Chiang Mai for the Lantern Festival had been his late girlfriend’s wish. He said, “They say if you make a wish on a sky lantern, it will come true.” I knew that as he said this, he must have been thinking of his girlfriend. But his girlfriend never made it here, having passed away in his arms. I clasped my hands together and made a sincere wish to the countless lanterns floating in the sky: I wished to forget Ryan. As days passed, work kept me busy. Sometimes I even had to deal with harassment from my lecherous boss. The sleazy man would use work as an excuse to touch me inappropriately and make crude jokes. To help me out, Sean pretended to be my boyfriend when he came to pick me up from work one day. After that, my boss stopped harassing me, and no other colleagues tried to pursue me romantically. I was grateful for the peace and quiet. After living in Chiang Mai for nearly two years, I suddenly received an assignment from my company to go to the United States for a project. Within a couple of days, I had packed my things and returned to the States with a few Thai colleagues. As soon as our plane landed, representatives from the client company were already at the airport to escort us to our hotel. The hotel was one Ryan used to frequent, and I felt a moment of disorientation as I stood at the entrance. Memories I thought I had forgotten came rushing back like a tidal wave. It wasn’t until I saw that the receptionist had changed that I finally relaxed my tight grip on my suitcase handle. “Welcome, Mr. Campbell, Ms. Parker…”

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My husband Lucas was wearing a diamond ring on his ring finger that matched mine. I was about to bring up divorce. “The supercar you bought will be delivered next month,” he said. I swallowed the word ‘divorce’. I’ll bring it up next month! For the sake of my sports car, I’ll endure! “I bought a bunny outfit. Come home early tonight, honey,” I said. Lucas kissed me on the lips and replied, “Sure, I’m looking forward to my little bunny.” Main Text: I saw Bella White’s Instagram post: “Finally back in the States. Everything feels so familiar.” The photo showed her in a coffee shop. But my attention was drawn to a hand visible in the bottom right corner. A slender hand with long, elegant fingers, wearing a ring on the fourth finger that matched mine exactly. The owner of that hand was none other than my husband. I couldn’t believe his first love had just returned, and he was already rushing to meet her. I got out of the jacuzzi and started my elaborate skincare routine. Thank goodness my husband had worked hard to earn money all these years, allowing me to live the pampered life of a trophy wife. Now that his first love was back, it looked like I’d have to step aside soon. Might as well enjoy the luxuries while I still could. I thought I’d be sleeping alone tonight, but to my surprise, a warm body slid into bed next to me later that night. … The next morning, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, feeling utterly drained. Divorce! We must get divorced! Otherwise, I’d die young from exhaustion. I reached for my phone to check the time. 11 AM. As expected of Lucas. “You’re awake? Don’t just lie there, get up and eat!” Lucas called, opening the bedroom door to urge me out of bed. He was still wearing the black apron I’d bought him, looking every bit the domestic husband. Tsk, where was his usual CEO demeanor now? 2 “You have time today?” I asked, eyeing the elaborate spread of three dishes and soup on the table. A thought flashed through my mind – guilty conscience. Oh, had he actually done something with his first love and was trying to make it up to me with a nice meal? “I just finished a big project and thought I’d take a break,” he replied. Bullshit! It’s obviously because your first love is back. How could a workaholic like him suddenly want to take a break? Lucas placed a piece of fish on my plate. “Eat up, you need the nutrients. Thanks for your hard work.” You dog! I glared at him and buried my face in my bowl, not saying another word. After the meal, I lounged on the couch watching my guilty pleasure soap opera while he washed some fruit and placed it on the coffee table before sitting down next to me to check the stock market. The TV drama was unbearably cliché, so I took out my phone and started scrolling through Twitter. That’s when I saw the trending topic. #BellaWhiteReturns# I suddenly remembered that Bella White used to be a famous “bare-faced beauty” actress in the entertainment industry before she quietly went abroad to study. Her fans had been devastated at the time. Sure enough, the comments under the hashtag were full of fans gushing: “Welcome home, sister!” “Is sis making a comeback? Can’t wait!” “Finally we’ll get to see sis more often!” I suddenly became curious about my husband’s reaction, so I turned to look at him. “Did you know Bella White is back in the country?” “Oh, so what?” Lucas replied nonchalantly. I snorted. This dog was putting on quite an act. If I hadn’t seen that Instagram post, I might have actually been fooled! That evening, the phone suddenly rang. I picked up and was surprised to hear Lucas’s friend, nicknamed “Big Head”. “Hey sis-in-law, why don’t you and Lucas come out and play? My bar is having its grand opening, I’m begging you guys to come support me.” I looked over at my husband, who was reading a book, and asked, “Why don’t you call him directly?” “You’ve trained Lucas well, sis! He says he’s a married man now, so he has to report to you for evening outings. And for places like bars, if you don’t agree, he won’t come.” I was speechless. The way he put it, I sounded like some kind of controlling tiger wife! In reality, I’d never restricted Lucas at all. Before we got to the bar, I thought we were just going to make an appearance. But when we arrived, I froze. Bella White was there too. “Sis-in-law, Lucas, over here,” Big Head led us to our seats. Noticing me staring at Bella, he quickly introduced her. “That’s Max Shaw’s guest. I heard she used to be a minor celebrity.” Big Head and Lucas had been friends for many years. How could he not know about Lucas and Bella’s history? Or was he just avoiding mentioning it in front of me? “Long time no see, Ava,” Max Shaw called out to me from where he was lounging on the sofa. I smiled and nodded in response. His family and mine had some business dealings, so we were acquainted. Lucas put his arm around me and led me straight to the opposite corner, as far from them as possible. I could tell he was clearly annoyed. Hmm? Had he and Bella gotten into a fight? Indeed, I caught him glancing over at Bella several times. He had a stern expression and barely responded when others greeted him. What, was he that upset seeing his first love sitting with someone else? Tsk, what a dog. To be honest, I wasn’t feeling great either. Lucas and I came from family friends and had grown up together as childhood sweethearts. Later, I went abroad for college. When I came back, I heard Lucas had found his ideal lover. I guess childhood sweethearts still couldn’t compare to fated lovers who fell from the sky? After that, Bella inexplicably went abroad, and Lucas turned around and proposed to me. At the time, my family was facing a business crisis and urgently needed financing, so I agreed to marry him. After marriage, Lucas was quite indulgent towards me, always letting me buy whatever I wanted. Even my mom said I was lucky to have married well, that no one else could afford to keep me. But looking at the man beside me now, I started to doubt if I had really married the right person. I picked up a glass of wine from the table and downed it in one go. The burning sensation stimulated my brain, making me even more clearheaded. This marriage had to end! “Why are you drinking so much? Are you in a bad mood?” Lucas snatched the wine glass away from me. “None of your business!” I snapped. Unexpectedly, the alcohol hit me hard and fast. Soon I was feeling woozy, leaning against Lucas with my hands wandering under his shirt. He grabbed my hands firmly. I could hear the huskiness in his voice as he asked, “What are you trying to do?” “I just want to touch you!” I whined. You think you can act all proper in front of your first love? Dream on! “Then let’s go home,” Lucas said without hesitation. He stood up, pulling me along and bundling me into the car. “Behave yourself. We’ll settle this when we get home,” he warned. “No, I won’t!” I kicked off my heels and slouched in the passenger seat, acting like a brat. “Listen here, don’t you dare touch me, or else today I’ll…” Before I could finish, his scorching lips were on mine, pressing me firmly against the seat. Just then, I saw Bella and Max walk past our car and get into the same vehicle. Alright, I get it now. Lucas was jealous and using me to get Bella’s attention. On the way home, I got increasingly angry as I thought about it. Finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Lucas Quinn, let’s get divorced.” “You’re drunk,” he replied bluntly. “I’m not.” The cool night air had sobered me up. I was completely rational now, and could even feel the car accelerating. We finally got home. As soon as I stepped into the bathroom, Lucas was on me, kissing me feverishly. I found myself getting lost in his kisses too. Our breathing grew heavier. Lucas nipped at my lips, his words muffled. “Stay away from Max Shaw from now on.” Max Shaw? What does he have to do with anything? 4 The next morning when I woke up, Lucas had already left for work. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Another day of failing to get up early. My best friend happened to call just then. “LV just got a new shipment in. Let’s go check it out!” “No thanks, I haven’t even gotten up yet,” I groaned. My friend’s tone turned suggestive. “Ava’s living the good life, huh?” “Shut up! I have important business today. Let’s meet up another time.” I was determined to talk to Lucas about divorce today, no matter what! After eating, I drove to his company. Lucas’s business had grown tremendously over the years. I hadn’t set foot in the company for a long time, but thankfully the receptionist still recognized me. However, she didn’t know Bella White. “I’m sorry miss, but you need an appointment to see Mr. Quinn. If you can’t make an appointment, I’m afraid you won’t be able to see him,” the receptionist explained to a frustrated-looking Bella. Seeing Bella at a loss, I was secretly delighted. I sauntered over, putting on an act. “Is Mr. Quinn in the office, Sarah?” I asked casually. The receptionist immediately bowed deeply. “Yes, ma’am. The CEO said you can go up anytime you want to see him. Let me call the elevator for you.” I shot Bella a smug look, about to leave when she suddenly called out, “Can we talk?” I gestured to the sofas by the window in the lobby. “Let’s chat there for a bit. I’m in a hurry.” Bella clenched her fists. As soon as I sat down, she blurted out, “Divorce Lucas. He loves me.” “So what? I’m Mrs. Quinn now,” I said, leaning back on the sofa and casually showing off my S-curve figure. “I’m the one who can go straight up to the top floor without an appointment. You should keep trying to make that appointment.” “Why are you clinging to Lucas?!” Bella exclaimed, veins popping on her forehead like she wanted to hit me. “There are security guards everywhere, so you’d better not try anything physical. But if you want me to divorce Lucas, that can be arranged.” Bella’s eyes flickered. “What do you want?” “Flat rate – $2 million and I’ll divorce him immediately.” Bella looked at me in disbelief. I continued, “I know it’s not easy making it in showbiz. How about this – $5 million and I’ll tell everyone Lucas and I separated amicably. For $7 million, I’ll announce that we’ve been unhappily married and divorced a while ago.” “Take your pick,” I said with a smile. “You’re shameless!” Bella cursed. “Is money all you care about? You don’t appreciate how great Lucas is.” What kind of logic was that? “You’d better decide quickly, or the price will go up. As soon as the money hits my account, I’ll talk to Lucas about dividing our assets.” “You want to take Lucas’s money even in divorce?!” What else did she expect? 5 Now it was my turn to be shocked. “Did you get stupider studying abroad? Why wouldn’t I get half? Your $7 million is buying the end of our marriage and my promise not to badmouth you publicly. But the money Lucas earned during our marriage – you think I wouldn’t get half of that?” “Why should you?!” Bella was fuming. I laughed out loud. “It’s called marital property, honey.” “But you…” Bella thought for a long time before continuing, “But what have you done for Lucas? He’s the one making all the money while you just spend it.” “I have every right to spend my husband’s money!” I stood up and lowered my voice. “Who says I haven’t helped him? I’ve been taking care of his physical needs. What, you think I’ve been sleeping with him for free these past two years?” My waist was about to break from all the action. It would be a huge loss not to get my fair share! Bella was still in shock, unable to respond. I couldn’t be bothered to argue further and headed straight for the elevator to the top floor. When I walked into the office, Lucas was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, seemingly on a call with someone. His back was turned to me, cutting an imposing figure with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. To be honest, he was the perfect man – handsome, wealthy, good cook, and amazing in bed. Though he could be a bit too energetic at night, it was still bearable. Too bad a man like this didn’t have his heart set on me. “Why are you here?” Lucas hung up the phone and sat back down. I cleared my throat. “Um, I think we should get div-” “Oh right, I have something to tell you,” Lucas interrupted. “Remember that supercar you wanted? It’s arriving next month.” The supercar? “You mean the pink one I saw at Venus? The one with only 3 in the world?” Lucas nodded with a smile. My eyes suddenly lit up. That was a car money couldn’t even buy. Lucas’s smile deepened. “What were you about to say just now?” An internal struggle began in my mind. If I left Lucas, I definitely wouldn’t get the car. It might even end up going to Bella instead. I couldn’t take that loss. Maybe… I could wait a bit longer to bring up divorce? At least until after I got the car! I smiled and walked around the desk to hug him coyly. “Nothing, I just missed you and wanted to see you. About the car…” Lucas’s smile grew wider as he pulled me onto his lap. One hand gently massaged my waist. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my wife gets it. But don’t I deserve a reward?” After two years of marriage, how could I not understand the implication? For the sake of my supercar, I’ll do whatever it takes! “I bought a bunny outfit. Come home early tonight, honey,” I purred. Lucas nodded and kissed me on the lips. “Sure, I’m looking forward to my little bunny.” 6 How utterly ridiculous! Two days later, I finally recovered my spirits. After repeated pestering from my best friend, I agreed to go shopping.

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On my 18th birthday, I received several mysterious text messages on my phone. The sender claimed to be me from ten years in the future. “This is not a prank,” one message read. “Go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood,” another instructed. “He may seem reserved and cold now, but in the years to come, he will be the one who loves you most in this world.” “Save him. Promise me you won’t let him die for you this time.” My name is Aria Winters, and I’m a freshman in college. I just celebrated my 18th birthday last week. It was probably the most surreal birthday I’ve ever had. On my birthday, my dad gave me a new phone. That night, after showering, I lay in bed, transferring the SIM card from my old phone to the new one and downloading some commonly used apps. As I was fiddling with those apps, my phone suddenly notified me of a new message. I glanced at it casually – it was a random sentence that said, “Go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood.” I had never even heard of Liam Blackwood. It must have been sent to the wrong person. I ignored it, but soon another message came through: “Hurry, you must find him before Christmas, or it will be too late!” The sender seemed so urgent, it might be something important. Out of kindness, I opened the message thread and replied, “I think you’ve got the wrong person.” The response came immediately: “No, I’m looking for you, Aria Winters.” I found this bizarre, so I checked the sender’s phone number. What I saw made my blood run cold, and I threw my phone away in shock. The sender of these messages had the same phone number as mine. Imagine this: it’s exactly midnight, and I’m texting… myself. Was this a malicious prank or a ghostly midnight message? I took a few deep breaths, mustered up my courage, picked up the phone, and with trembling fingers, typed: “Who are you?” Until dawn, there was no reply from the other end. I had almost forgotten about this incident, but tonight I stayed up late preparing for a club officer interview the next day. As soon as the clock struck midnight, my phone automatically popped up a message, still the same – “Go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood.” This was the second time. I wanted to get to the bottom of this. “Who are you? Is this a prank?” I asked. The reply I got was mind-boggling: “I am you, Aria from ten years in the future.” Are they kidding me? This is ridiculous. I reminded them: “April Fools’ Day was six months ago.” “I’m not lying to you. If you don’t believe me, I can prove it. On your end, it’s 2020, and you currently have a crush on Connor Sullivan, right?” My head buzzed. Connor Sullivan was a guy in our club, a year older than me. He was quite handsome, known as the gentle senior among the students. He had been particularly caring towards me, and I did have some feelings for him, but I had never told anyone about it. How did she know? As if knowing my thoughts, the other person said, “Don’t doubt it, I just know because I am you from ten years in the future.” A sudden thought struck me, and I asked her, “So, am I with Connor Sullivan ten years from now?” This time, the other side was silent for a moment. “Yes, you’re married.” Before I could feel embarrassed for a few seconds, my phone started buzzing with messages as if it was possessed: “But he has a small dick, he’s terrible in bed, and he’s a super mega scumbag. If you end up with him, he’ll spend your money, sleep with your friends, and even try to kill you!” I was dumbfounded. After digesting her information, I couldn’t help but feel devastated. What? Is my future really that miserable? Perhaps realizing the topic had gone off track, she quickly brought it back: “There’s no time left. Listen to me, you must go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood.” “Although he seems introverted and cold now, in the years to come, he will be the one who loves you most in this world.” “Promise me, save him. Don’t let him die for you this time.” I asked her who Liam Blackwood was, which class he was in, why she said he died for me, what happened, but the messages I sent seemed to sink into a bottomless sea. I looked at the time – well, it was 12:05 AM. It seemed to be the same time last time. It appears that this cross-time communication between us has a specific time limit. The next day, I dragged my tired body to the 8 AM class. It was the Department Head’s course, and everyone had fixed seats. You could tell at a glance who was late or absent. As soon as I entered the classroom, I noticed extra breakfast on my desk – soy milk, small wontons, and even a chocolate muffin. I asked my roommate, who had arrived just before me, “Who brought this?” She said, “I don’t know, it was already there when I came.” She lowered her voice and grinned at me, “Honestly, Aria, was it Connor Sullivan? I saw him buy you bubble tea before. Not bad, huh? You just posted on social media last night that you wanted to eat a chocolate muffin, and today he bought it for you. He must like you, right?” The chocolate muffin was only sold at a trendy store three miles from campus, and that store was so popular that you had to be quick to get their hot new products. If it were any other time, I would have been touched and given Connor some bonus points in my heart. However, because of last night’s text messages, now when I heard Connor Sullivan’s name, I couldn’t help but think of that sentence – “he has a small dick, he’s terrible in bed.” Help. Connor Sullivan’s image in my mind crumbled by half. Facing my roommate’s suggestive gaze, I quickly denied it: “No, we’re not in any kind of relationship.” At 3 PM, I attended the club officer interview on time. The interview went smoothly, and afterwards, Connor came to congratulate me and asked if I wanted to go watch a movie with him that evening. In the past, I might have happily agreed, but today, as soon as he came close, that phrase “small dick, terrible in bed” kept flashing in my mind. Heaven knows how much willpower it took to keep my gaze from drifting downwards. Connor took another step towards me: “I’ve already bought the tickets. It’s a mystery film, the kind you like.” I declined politely, maintaining a calm expression: “I have something to do today, sorry, Connor.” “Alright,” he looked a bit disappointed, “we’ll plan for next time then.” I breathed a sigh of relief, then remembered something. Liam Blackwood was also in the Computer Science department, right? Maybe Connor had heard of him. With a try-and-see attitude, I asked him about Liam Blackwood. He did know him: “He’s in Class 1, the most famous among this year’s freshmen. Why? Do you know him?” I shook my head and made up an excuse: “A friend of mine likes him.” “Aria, you should tell your friend to give up on that idea,” Connor’s expression turned serious. “Why? Does he have a girlfriend?” “No,” Connor frowned, “I heard he’s sick. Mental illness.” I heard some rumors about Liam Blackwood from Connor. Apparently, when he first entered college, he became quite popular due to his good looks and aloof attitude towards people. Connor’s position as the most popular guy in the department was almost threatened. But later, someone dug up his family history and posted it on the school forum. People’s attitudes towards him changed 180 degrees overnight. The reason was simple: he had a mentally ill father who was a murderer. When it happened, Liam was only five years old. He witnessed his frenzied father kill his mother with a knife, then walk towards him step by step. Fortunately, before the knife fell, his father came to his senses, but realizing what he had done, the tremendous fear and guilt made him drop the knife and flee. In the end, it was a neighbor returning from work who discovered something was wrong, opened the door to find a murder had occurred next door, and shakily called the police. When the police arrived, the body was lying in a pool of blood, already cold. The five-year-old boy was curled up in a corner, his body trembling uncontrollably, his gaze blank. After that, Liam’s father remained missing. The police couldn’t find his whereabouts. Liam only had a distant relative, but that family considered him a burden and sent him to an orphanage. The person who posted on the forum described it vividly, claiming to be Liam’s high school classmate who had personally witnessed Liam go berserk, pinning a much taller senior against the wall and beating him. The reason seemed to be that the senior had made a joke about Liam’s parents. Everyone said that his reckless, life-risking craziness must have been inherited from his father, and so rumors of Liam having a mental illness spread throughout their Computer Science department. I read all the posts about Liam on the forum. Far from being scared, I felt a bit sorry for him. … I must have been influenced by the text messages from these past few days. There was a photo of Liam on the forum, a candid shot taken by someone. In the photo, he was glaring at the camera, his eyes wild and cold. I stared at that photo again and again, conflicted all night, and decided to go find Liam and see the situation for myself. Finding Liam wasn’t difficult at all. I didn’t even need to ask anyone. Standing outside their classroom window and looking in, I could spot him at a glance among the sea of people. His aura was unique. At this age, college students often like to wear a few branded items, each one full of youthful energy. Liam was different. He sat alone in the last row, wearing the simplest white t-shirt, with black hair and black eyes, like a stagnant pool untouched by sunlight, out of place in this world. I compared this face with the photo on the forum and could confirm it was him. Perhaps my gaze was too intense, he suddenly looked in my direction. Our eyes met, his gaze sharp. Caught peeking, my heart skipped a beat, and under the influence of guilt, I reflexively crouched down, hiding under the window. Only after crouching did I realize how strange this looked. I wasn’t a peeping tom, why was I feeling guilty? As the bell rang, people poured out of the classroom. I stood on tiptoe looking for Liam. As expected, he was walking at the back of the crowd, carrying a shoulder bag, his expression quiet and indifferent. Because of the rumors, everyone’s attitude towards him was both wary and fearful. While others were in groups of three or five, there was no one around him. The sense of loneliness was palpable. I couldn’t help but call out to him: “Hey!” I ran up to him, took out my phone, “You’re Liam Blackwood, right? Hi, I’m Aria Winters from the Design department. Can I add you on SnapChat?” This was the first time in my life I had ever approached a boy on my own. While I was feeling nervous, Liam stopped and looked at me. I couldn’t tell if it was surprise or expectation in his voice: “You know me?” His voice was quite pleasant, very clean. To not seem too abrupt, I answered honestly: “I didn’t know you before, but I want to know you now. Is that okay?” Liam didn’t seem satisfied with my answer. He said, “No, it’s not.” Those eyes returned to their previous emotionless state, as if the expectation I saw in them earlier was just my imagination. He strode past me. I called his name, only to receive a cold response: “Don’t follow me.” Hello?? Don’t you know this is how you lose me? At midnight, the message from the future arrived on my phone right on time. It was still that same, unshakeable, almost like a death warrant: “Quickly go to the Computer Science department and find Liam Blackwood.” Thinking of what happened during the day, I replied with a depressed mood: “I went today. Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake? I feel like he doesn’t like me at all. He doesn’t even seem to know me.” In my depression, I also felt a bit wronged. I didn’t know where this sense of grievance came from. Was it because I had enthusiastically approached someone only to be coldly rejected? Or was it because it was Liam? That glance he gave me through the glass today left a deep impression. I think I might have… fallen for him at first sight. It took a full two minutes before a message came from the other side. “No mistake. I’ve read his diary. He carried out a secret love throughout his student years, but neither you nor I knew about his feelings.” A secret love that lasted throughout his student years. I searched through my memories but really couldn’t remember anyone named Liam Blackwood. I asked, “When exactly did Liam start liking me?” Surprisingly, my future self replied: “I don’t know either.” “His love… was too silent. I never noticed it.” “Anyway, you must be wary of Connor Sullivan. He’s a complete scumbag, guilty of both financial fraud and attempted murder. If it weren’t for Liam, Connor would have succeeded. My life was exchanged for Liam’s. That’s why I want to save him. I want him to live.” I promised my 28-year-old self that I would save Liam, and for this, I even made a comprehensive plan. First, of course, was to stay away from Connor Sullivan. My fondness for Connor came from his usual care for me, but I’m not stupid. Once I learned he was a scumbag, I would have bought a train ticket and fled overnight. Next was to find a way to get close to Liam. I got hold of their department’s class schedule from the school’s confession wall. On a morning when I didn’t have class, I walked into their classroom with two breakfast sets, brazenly sat down next to Liam. Liam seemed very uncomfortable with my arrival. From the moment I sat down, he curled up like a little hedgehog, his voice hard and cold: “What are you doing here?” He was quite cute like this. Writing about his secret love for me in his diary, but in reality, for some reason, he seemed to deliberately avoid me. It was a bit like those people online who say one thing but mean another. I handed him the bun and soy milk I had brought: “I brought you breakfast.” He clenched his jaw, stared at me for a while, then pushed it away: “I don’t want it.” But the way he looked at me just now clearly showed he wanted to accept it. What a contradictory person. I admit I had my own agenda. My 28-year-old self only said to save Liam’s life, to let him live. But knowing this, my 18-year-old self wanted to date him. We pushed and pulled over the breakfast several times, attracting the attention of classmates in front of us who couldn’t help but turn around to look. Their faces couldn’t hide their shock, as if surprised that someone would actually sit next to Liam and talk to him. As the bell for class rang, I simply grabbed Liam’s hand, put the breakfast in it, and softened my voice to say quietly: “Come on, skipping breakfast is bad for your health. I brought this specially for you. Just take it, okay?” I’m quite good at acting coy. Sure enough, Liam froze when I held his hand, reacting as if he had been electrocuted. This time he didn’t refuse, but he put the breakfast at the corner of his desk, seemingly with no intention of eating it. I sighed internally, thinking there would be more opportunities in the future. However, I had only come three times before Liam grabbed my arm and cornered me in the hallway. If I had to describe it, he was like a small beast whose territory had been invaded, bristling with all his spines to warn me: “What exactly do you want to do?” If it were someone else interrogating me like this, I would have been scared away long ago. But it was Liam, those dark eyes staring intently at me, beneath the surface of annoyance was an almost undisguisable confusion and fear. I didn’t understand, but I felt sorry for him, so my mouth moved faster than my brain: “I just kind of like you. Can’t you like me back a little?” Liam let go of my hand. The next second, he suddenly smiled. This was the first time I had seen him smile. It was very attractive, making me dizzy. If I liked Liam five points before, from this second on, I can guarantee this liking had shot up to seven points.

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The first time I went home with my boyfriend. When we walked into the living room of Jackson’s family estate, aside from a group of older people who I assumed were relatives, there was a woman sitting there… in a wedding dress. As soon as she saw Jackson, she stood up, her face flushed with a coy smile. “Honey, you’re back! Once you transfer the $50,000 to my account, we can go to the courthouse to get our marriage license.” Wait. What?! Jackson is getting married? And the bride isn’t me? I was furious and turned on my heel to leave. But Jackson grabbed me, panic plastered on his face. “Harper, don’t go!” He held on tight. My hand hurt. But more than anything, I was completely speechless. First relationship ever, and I end up with a guy like this? Seriously, my luck couldn’t be worse. I tried to pull his hand off. “Jackson Stone, let go. Don’t think I won’t slap you!” He wrapped his arms around me, almost as if he was afraid I’d run. “I don’t know her, Harper. You have to believe me.” His usual embrace—the one that used to make me feel safe—now felt like a mockery. But the panic on his face seemed real enough. The woman’s expression quickly shifted from shy to smug. “Who is she, honey?” she sneered, her finger pointed at me, dripping with jealousy. The way she looked at me—like I was some homewrecker—infuriated me. I yanked Jackson’s hair, forcing his head to tilt painfully to one side. “Let go of me, you scumbag, or I’ll rip all your hair out.” Jackson blinked in confusion, holding my waist tightly, refusing to let go. The other woman stared at him, her face full of sympathy. Then she lunged at me, claws out. “Let go of my husband!” I flinched. Crap, she’s going to scratch my face!

Luckily, Jackson pulled me back a few steps, just in time to avoid her attack. I angrily released the handful of Jackson’s hair I had been clutching. “Jackson, you have five minutes to explain.” He quickly shifted from hugging to holding my hand, nodding frantically, and pulled me toward an older couple sitting nearby. “Mom, Dad, what’s going on here? I called you and told you clearly, I’m bringing my girlfriend home for the first time. Could you take this seriously, please?” His parents looked confused, their eyes darting between me and the woman who had just called Jackson her husband. Finally, his father spoke. “Her name is Scarlett Rayner. Didn’t you meet her through Aunt Linda? You two were supposed to get married. We thought…” He hesitated. “She’s the girlfriend you were talking about.” Jackson looked like he was about to lose it. “I don’t even know her!” I raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room at all the bewildered faces. Scarlett started crying, tears streaming down her face. “How can you say that, honey? Aunt Linda introduced our families, and she said if I was happy, we could go straight to the courthouse! I even brought my marriage license papers!” She waved the documents in front of everyone. I was stunned. So was Jackson’s entire family. They looked at each other, bewildered. Jackson glared at his parents. “How did I not know about this blind date?” His mom looked uncomfortable. “You’re 25 and still single. I was getting worried, so I had Aunt Linda help by organizing your profile and photos. I just wanted her to find someone nice.” Jackson’s face was a mess of emotions, as colorful as a painter’s palette.

I scoffed. I felt like an outsider watching a trainwreck. Just as I was about to leave, Scarlett collapsed onto the floor, crying her eyes out. “Jackson Stone, are you trying to abandon me?” “All my relatives know we’re getting married. I’ve already sent out the invitations! I even quit my job just to come back here and marry you. We’ve discussed the wedding settlement. I’m ready to marry you!” Sobs punctuated every word, her voice desperate. I was disoriented. I’ve been with Jackson for three years, and we’ve never talked about marriage. Yet here we were, with some woman calling him her husband and demanding he take responsibility. Even though I could tell something was fishy, it didn’t stop the situation from stinging. Scarlett suddenly jumped up and pointed at me. “You, the other woman! Get out of my house. My husband only loves me. He’s always loved me, and we’re going to be together forever. You’re shameless, trying to steal him away.” Her absolute certainty left me stunned. I was about to yell back and storm off when Jackson stepped in front of me and started shouting at her. “Are you crazy? You quit your job? Sent out invitations? That has nothing to do with me!” “I don’t even know you.” “And if I’m going to get married, it’s going to be to Harper. Who do you think you are? Get out of my house!” I stared at his back, feeling a twinge of disappointment despite his defense of me.

No one shows up in a wedding dress without some kind of leverage. I poked Jackson in the back. “I’m leaving.” I tried to stay calm, but I couldn’t take this mess. I just wanted to get out of there. He spun around and grabbed me. “Harper, don’t go. You’re the only one for me.” Scarlett screeched and clawed at me again. “You homewrecking trash, get away from my husband!” I smirked, then kicked her. “Get lost.” She dramatically flopped onto the floor, moaning in fake pain. Now I was even more furious. That ridiculous gown of hers was so big I didn’t even land a proper kick. She’s totally faking it!

“You people are treating us so unfairly! Everyone, come out and see how we’re being treated!” An older woman—about sixty or so, dressed in a red floral-patterned dress—stormed out the door and sat herself right at the entrance of the estate, yelling. “In every corner of the country, when you marry, the man’s family pays the settlement, and the woman’s family provides the dowry! It’s tradition to make sure the couple starts off well.” “You could have said you wanted to give less, but pretending you don’t even know my Scarlett? How heartless can you be? We wouldn’t be at the point of talking about a wedding if you didn’t know her.” “You’re ruining my daughter’s reputation, Stone family. You should be ashamed.” “Why does my daughter deserve to be treated this way?” “Is it because this new woman you brought home has more money, and now you’re ditching my Scarlett? That little tramp must be seducing our son-in-law!” “Oh, Scarlett, what will you do now?” I stood inside, watching Scarlett’s mom wailing in the yard, slapping the ground without shedding a single tear. My head spun in disbelief. What kind of circus is this? Scarlett ran out and wrapped her arms around her mother, sobbing. “Mom, stop. It’s my fault for trusting the wrong person. If Jackson wants to be with someone else, let’s just call off the wedding.” The whole room watched them in stunned silence. The entire room stared in disbelief at the spectacle unfolding outside. I turned to Jackson, my mind racing. We worked together in Chicago. We weren’t living together, but we saw each other almost every day. How could he have gone on a blind date with Scarlett and made it this far without me knowing? I looked at him closely. His jaw was clenched tight, and the veins in his hand bulged as he held mine, though not painfully. His other hand was balled into a fist, the knuckles turning white from the tension. What on earth was he so angry about? Shouldn’t I be the one upset? I’m the one being treated like the “other woman” here!

Jackson took a deep breath, just about to speak when Scarlett’s mother shrieked, “I don’t care what you say, your family must give us the wedding settlement and take Scarlett to the courthouse for the license, or I’m calling the police!” Jackson’s mother paled and quickly tried to diffuse the situation. “No! No police, please! You’ll ruin my son’s reputation!” Without missing a beat, Scarlett’s mom stood up from the ground in a flash. “Fine. No cops then, but the $50,000 settlement stays. That’s the emotional damage compensation for my daughter.” “If you want to get married, take her to the courthouse. If not, then don’t. But she can live with him in the meantime. Let them have a trial marriage.” Jackson’s father, clutching his chest, looked like he was about to collapse. His mother rushed to him, trying to calm him down. “Honey, don’t get worked up. Your health can’t handle this!” I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. The whole family looked like they were about to explode. Suddenly, it all clicked: Jackson hadn’t done anything wrong, but somehow this madness had fallen into his lap. Jackson’s eyes were sharp as he glared at Scarlett and her mother, his voice low and cold. “You’d better leave my house, or I’ll be the one calling the cops.” Scarlett’s mother, defiant, spat back, “Fine, we’ll go, but your family made my daughter a joke. You’ll at least have to cover the wedding costs and pay her a year’s worth of lost wages.” I glanced at Jackson, watching for his reaction. If he agreed to pay, I would break up with him on the spot. There’s no way I’d stay with someone who lets themselves get blackmailed just to avoid drama. This wasn’t about the money. If he gave in, it meant he was admitting guilt, that he had led Scarlett on. There was a right way to handle this and a wrong way. I despised the idea of solving problems by throwing money at them. I needed Jackson to take a stand.

Without a word, Jackson pulled out his phone and dialed the police. Scarlett’s mother saw no one was giving in to her demands, so she threw herself on the ground again, screaming and kicking, her cries filling the air. The same nonsense again: Abandoned after an engagement. Cheap family refusing to pay the settlement. At this point, Aunt Linda appeared, looking embarrassed, and whispered an explanation to Jackson. “Scarlett’s mom dragged me here first thing this morning, insisting you two were engaged. She even quit her job to move back home.” I could feel the question marks swirling around my head. Jackson sent a long text message to someone, then turned to me. “I’ve got a friend looking into who this Scarlett Rayner really is.” Just then, the police arrived. Scarlett’s mom immediately lunged at one of the officers—Officer Amanda Fields—crying and wailing the same ridiculous story she’d been spinning all day. The senior officer, Sergeant Michael Gray, stepped in, his voice firm. “Let go.” Instantly, Scarlett’s mother released Officer Fields, like a mouse caught by a cat. After speaking with everyone involved, Sergeant Gray turned to Scarlett and sighed. “Marriage is a mutual decision. They don’t even know you, so showing up here demanding a wedding isn’t right. It’s best if you head home before this situation escalates further.” Scarlett’s face was drenched in tears, but her mother wasn’t about to let go that easily. “How are we the ones causing a scene? My daughter’s reputation has been dragged through the mud! Shouldn’t they at least pay for the emotional damage?” Jackson clenched his fists, the veins on his hand bulging as he raised his voice. “Say ‘compensation’ one more time, I dare you.” Scarlett’s mother screamed and charged toward us, her eyes wild, ready to attack.

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