On my wedding day, the groom ran away. So, I married his father instead. If I can’t be your bride, I’ll just be your bride. When he returned and saw me still in his house, he thought I was clinging on, refusing to leave. From behind him, he pulled forward an innocent-looking woman, declaring that she was his true love and that I should stop dreaming. I smiled, gently grasping the hand of the man beside me. “Son, daughter-in-law, won’t you give your mother a greeting?” I am Laurel Henderson, heiress of Henderson Enterprises. Today was supposed to be my wedding day with Enoch Westfield, the young heir of Westfield Corporation. But the groom, who was meant to be front and center, was nowhere to be found. “You’re telling me Enoch ran away?” I asked, my voice cold. “That’s what they’re saying…” the maid stammered, trembling as she explained. My parents were livid. Both the Henderson and Westfield families had spent months preparing for this wedding. Every major elite family in New York City had been invited, and the media was eagerly covering it. If Enoch had any issues with the wedding, he had plenty of opportunities to voice them. But to flee on the day of the ceremony? That was a direct slap in the face to the Hendersons. After offering me some reassurances, my parents hurried off to figure out how to salvage the situation. I sat in the corner, quietly thinking about how to proceed with the reception when I heard a commotion at the entrance. Instinctively, I looked up. Walking through the door in a tailored black suit was a strikingly handsome man. This man was Christopher “Chris” Westfield, the current head of Westfield Corporation and, technically, Enoch’s father. Despite being thirty-five, he looked like he was barely in his twenties. Chris rarely attended large social events. Even I had only met him a handful of times. So seeing him here, now, drew the attention of every family present. People practically tripped over themselves to get to him. Staring at Chris’s perfect features, a wild idea flashed in my mind. As I watched him politely turn down everyone’s advances, he suddenly walked straight toward me. “Mr. Westfield,” I greeted him with a polite smile, though I couldn’t hide a hint of vulnerability in my voice. His voice, low and melodic like a cello, came next. “Miss Henderson, I apologize for Enoch’s behavior. I’ve already sent people to find him. When he’s caught, you may decide what happens to him.” “I’ll inform everyone that the wedding is postponed, and Westfield Corporation will cover all expenses.” It was a perfect solution, but I had a better plan. “Mr. Westfield, this engagement has always been between the Hendersons and the Westfields, right? The groom doesn’t necessarily have to be Enoch, does it?” “What?” His eyes darkened, clearly taken aback by the sudden turn. After a pause, he asked, “Well, who would you choose then?” I smiled sweetly, extending my hand. “Would you be my groom?”

Although Chris is Enoch’s father in name, he isn’t his biological dad. There were rumors Chris had certain… physical shortcomings, which is why he was still unmarried. At twenty-five, he adopted Enoch from a distant relative. Whether or not those rumors were true didn’t concern me. Medical advancements these days are incredible—I’m sure any issue could be resolved. And if not, well, maybe we just don’t have kids. Chris raised an eyebrow, amused by the bold smile on my face. “Are you sure?” “Of course,” I replied without hesitation. After all, Chris was far more attractive than Enoch—by miles. Even if the rumors were true, just looking at his face every day would be more than enough for me. It sure beats being humiliated by a two-timing Enoch. Chris studied me for a long moment before finally nodding. “Alright.” His strong, masculine hand clasped mine, and my heart skipped a beat. The wedding went on with a new leading man. I didn’t even have to change my dress. The elegant white gown, paired with Chris’s custom-tailored black suit, made us look like we were always meant to be bride and groom. Everyone at the reception caught on quickly. Enoch’s sudden disappearance wasn’t exactly a secret, and the guests had more or less figured it out. The media, sensing a scandal, had their cameras ready, eager to capture the drama unfolding between two of New York’s wealthiest families. But when they saw me walking down the aisle, arm in arm with Chris, jaws dropped. The audacity of switching grooms at the last minute left them all speechless. The officiant, ever the professional, read off the updated details with ease. “Please, exchange your rings…” Chris pulled out a ring and slid it onto my finger, and I did the same for him. I quickly noticed the ring didn’t quite fit—after all, it was sized for Enoch. It was a rushed job, but it would have to do. Then came the moment for the groom to kiss the bride. I felt a wave of nerves. Chris was known for being discreet and private—he rarely attended events, and when he did, he never had a date. Would he really want to kiss me in front of all these people? I regretted dragging him into this mess on a whim. But before I could spiral into doubt, I felt the soft pressure of his lips on mine. Shocked, I opened my eyes, and there he was—his perfect face, inches from mine. Sensing my surprise, Chris gently cupped the back of my head, deepening the kiss. I closed my eyes again, letting myself sink into the moment as the crowd around us erupted into applause.

My parents had no idea about my last-minute decision, but faced with the congratulations from everyone around us, they had no choice but to smile and accept it. They couldn’t possibly embarrass their daughter in public, could they? During the reception, my mom pulled me aside into a private room where my dad was already waiting. She locked the door behind her. “Laurel, what is going on? How did you end up marrying Chris Westfield?” “Because… he’s handsome.” I had no better explanation for my sudden impulse. “Handsome?” My mom thought about it for a moment. “Well… he is good-looking.” “But he’s more than ten years older than you! He was almost done with elementary school when you were born.” “So what? They say older men are more caring.” I tried to play it cool. “But… there’s a rumor he can’t, well, you know…” Yikes. This was going to be tough to explain. Before I could figure out how to dodge that landmine, there was a knock on the door. My mom opened it, and there stood Chris. I had no idea how long he’d been standing there. With practiced ease, my parents plastered on polite smiles, as if they hadn’t just been gossiping about the man. “Mr. Westfield, what brings you here?” “I’d like to have a word with you both, if you don’t mind,” Chris said. I have no idea what he said to them, but by the time their conversation ended, my parents were no longer opposing the marriage. In fact, they seemed genuinely impressed with him. “Chris is quite something,” my dad said approvingly. “He’s capable, resourceful. Sure, he’s a bit older, but that kind of man can protect our daughter.” Enoch, who ran away like a coward, certainly couldn’t.

After the wedding, I moved into the Westfield Estate. This was Chris’s personal residence, and it was my first time there. The décor was modern, minimalist, with everything in black, white, or gray. After a day filled with endless socializing, I could feel the alcohol and sweat clinging to my skin. Chris headed off to shower first while I relaxed on the couch. I could hear the sound of the water running, and through the frosted glass of the bathroom door, I could just make out his silhouette. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, so I quickly averted my eyes. Eventually, the water stopped, and out of habit, I glanced up as Chris emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing a robe, the collar slightly open, revealing a chiseled chest and abs. I stared, wide-eyed. I hadn’t expected him to look so… fit. Chris caught me looking and gave a small, amused smile. “Laurel, maybe you should take a shower too,” he said, his voice deep and teasing. Snapping out of my daze, I bolted into the bathroom, my face burning. As the water rushed over me, my mind replayed the way he’d called me by my name. How had I not noticed before how charming he was? After my shower, I realized I’d forgotten to bring my clothes into the bathroom. Ugh. There was no choice but to crack open the door just a bit and call out, “Chris, I forgot my clothes. Can you grab the bag on the couch and hand it to me?” There was no response at first, and I started to wonder if he’d left the room. Just as I was about to ask again, his voice came from outside the door, a little rougher than before. “Sure.” I could hear him moving around, and soon, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Here you go.” I cracked the door just enough to extend my arm, and he handed me the clothes. “Thanks,” I muttered, quickly closing the door. But as I did, I accidentally met his gaze. Those deep, smoldering eyes… I blushed even harder. Oh my God. He hadn’t handed me the whole bag—just the underwear.

I spent a long time dawdling in the bathroom, but eventually, I had to come out. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. Chris was already changed into his pajamas, sitting on the bed, reading a document. When he saw me emerge, he calmly closed the folder. There wasn’t any teasing in his expression, which helped me relax. I had some business to address anyway. “So, what are you planning to do about Enoch?” Chris had anticipated the question. He handed me the folder he’d been reading earlier. “Take a look.” I walked over and took the papers. Inside was the whole backstory of Enoch and some girl—the kind of classic love affair you’d expect from a cheesy romance novel: a rich heir and a delicate, innocent girl. Next to the description was a photo of the girl. She really did fit the role of a sweet, innocent little thing. Apparently, they’d gone through rounds of dramatic breakups and reconciliations, all without me knowing. Then, last night, the girl found out Enoch was getting married. Distraught, she called him, crying. Enoch, ever the compassionate fool, panicked and ran off, leaving his fiancée (that’s me) behind to elope with her. Honestly, if I weren’t the poor bride left at the altar, I might have congratulated them. But no, unfortunately for me, I was the jilted bride. Seriously, where had these two been for the past few months? From the timeline in the documents, their little roller-coaster romance had been going on for two months. Longer than it took to plan the wedding. If Enoch had hinted at anything during that time, I wouldn’t be so furious right now. “Enoch’s off on some vacation with his little girlfriend right now,” Chris said, noting my simmering anger. “I’ve sent people to drag him back. If you want, we can pretend this whole wedding didn’t happen.” We hadn’t officially signed the marriage license yet—just held the ceremony. But I didn’t regret a thing. I’d tossed away trash and found myself a treasure. This was luck beyond belief. “No need to cancel anything. We’re married, and I’m your wife. Tomorrow, we’ll get the paperwork done.” I was serious. Chris looked at me, realizing I meant every word. His tone softened. “Alright.”

“You said I could handle Enoch however I liked, right?” I asked, a mischievous smile forming on my lips. “Of course.” Perfect. “I want you to freeze his credit cards.” Let’s see how Enoch enjoys his romantic getaway when his access to money is suddenly cut off. Chris could see the wicked glee in my eyes. Not only did he not stop me, but he added fuel to the fire. “As of today, I’ll seize all of his assets. What do you think of that, Mrs. Westfield?” That last phrase caught me off guard, making my face turn red again. “I think that sounds wonderful,” I replied, the thought of making Enoch’s life miserable filling me with satisfaction. With the jerk dealt with, it was time to move on to more important matters. “Let’s get some rest,” Chris said. He sounded genuinely tired as he reached over and turned off the light. The room went dark. I lay stiffly in bed, too nervous to move. It was my first night as a married woman, and I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next. A wedding night? Should I make the first move? Just as I was working up the nerve to do something, Chris’s calm voice broke the silence. “Go to sleep. I won’t touch you until you’re ready.” Relieved yet conflicted, I thought about those rumors. Was it really true? Could he really resist a beautiful woman lying right next to him? Maybe he really couldn’t… “?” Chris’s eyes flew open again. It took me a second to realize I had said that last part out loud. Before I could pretend to be asleep, I felt the bed shift as his body leaned closer to mine. His long fingers brushed my waist, his breath warm against my ear. “Maybe you should find out for yourself,” he whispered. Turns out, teasing a man who’s been celibate for years has consequences.

The next morning, I woke up well past noon. The spot beside me was cold. Chris was already gone. Of course, big CEOs don’t have the luxury of sleeping in. My stomach growled, so I headed downstairs in search of food. To my surprise, Chris was sitting at the dining table, casually flipping through a magazine. “Good morning, Mrs. Westfield. Did you sleep well?” Today, he wasn’t in his usual suit. Instead, he wore a simple white shirt, the collar slightly open, revealing faint marks from last night. My face flushed at the memory, but I wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand. “I slept great, Chris,” I replied with a hint of defiance. His smile widened. “I’m glad to hear it. It’s reassuring to know you were satisfied with last night.” Shameless! I couldn’t match his boldness. I plopped down at the table with a huff. “I’m starving!” Chris chuckled softly and went to the kitchen, bringing out a simple breakfast. “You’ve just woken up. I didn’t want to make anything too heavy.” The meal was modest—breakfast biscuits, a couple of side dishes, and a bowl of oatmeal. I didn’t care. I was so hungry, I immediately grabbed a biscuit and took a bite. My eyes widened. It was delicious. “This is amazing! Who made these?” Chris said nothing, just smiled. A sudden thought hit me. “Wait, did you make these?” Chris nodded without a hint of hesitation. “As long as it pleases you, that’s all that matters.” I wanted to say something witty, but I couldn’t deny how good the food was. Seeing me eat with such enthusiasm made Chris look pleased. All that time spent learning to cook hadn’t gone to waste. After breakfast, I headed upstairs to get dressed. The decision to marry Chris had been so sudden, I hadn’t had a chance to prepare. There were no women’s clothes at the Westfield Estate, so I had to make do with what I’d brought from my parents’ house. Chris noticed. He stepped out to make a phone call while I finished getting ready. By the time I came downstairs, he was waiting for me by the door. “Let’s go, Chris,” I said, linking my arm through his. He chuckled softly and clasped my hand as we walked out the door.

With our wedding photos freshly printed, it was official—Chris and I were now husband and wife. I was still adjusting to being married, but as I looked at the pictures of us—such a striking couple—I had to admit, we looked great together. My instincts had been spot on! Meanwhile, Enoch and his precious “innocent” girlfriend, Vivianne, were off on their international getaway. But with his credit cards frozen, their fun wasn’t going to last long. I couldn’t wait for the moment when Enoch would return and see that I was now his stepmother. Chris was incredibly thoughtful. After we got our marriage certificate, I came home to find the once-empty closet filled with clothes and accessories, all the latest from high-end designers. “We didn’t have time for custom orders, so I hope these will do for now,” he said. Though many of the clothes were ones I already had, I appreciated his thoughtfulness enough to reward him with a kiss. Just as I’d expected, cutting off Enoch’s funds had thrown his trip into chaos. As the heir to the Westfield fortune, he’d never bothered to carry cash, always relying on his unlimited credit cards. Vivianne, who had quit her job when they started dating, still had some savings from before. Without her, Enoch wouldn’t have even been able to get back home. “Don’t worry, Enoch,” Vivianne whispered. “Something must have happened. Let’s buy tickets and head back to New York.” “Thank you, Vivianne,” Enoch replied, his voice full of gratitude. He had a feeling Laurel was behind his accounts being frozen. Someone must have told the bank to cut him off, and it could only be her. But no matter. Once they were back in New York, he planned to make things official with Vivianne. After all, they truly loved each other. He owed her that much. He could already picture their future—marrying Vivianne, taking over Westfield Corporation, and living happily ever after.

The couple hurried to catch the next flight back to New York. After a seven-hour flight, they arrived at the Westfield Estate around eight in the morning. Enoch knew Chris rarely stayed at the old family mansion, so he headed straight for the estate. Meanwhile, I was lounging on the couch, waiting for Chris to finish breakfast. These past few days, I’d spent every moment with him. For someone who had once seemed so aloof and distant, Chris was surprisingly affectionate—and not the saint he appeared to be. To enjoy our honeymoon in peace, Chris had given the staff some time off. Only the housekeeper came by to clean every few days. That meant he had taken over all the cooking, but I didn’t mind. After all, I wasn’t exactly skilled in the kitchen. Chris seemed to enjoy it. Every time he saw me happily munching on something he made, he’d tap my cheeks playfully. Suddenly, the house AI chimed. “There’s someone at the door, ma’am.” I slipped on my slippers and checked the security camera. There they were—Enoch and Vivianne, looking worse for wear after their long journey. Well, that was fast. “Your eldest son is here,” I called to Chris, poking my head into the kitchen where he was making sunny-side-up eggs to perfection. “Hmm,” was his only response, his eyes not leaving the pan. Just what I wanted to hear. Leaving the lovebirds to wait outside, I casually went upstairs to change before finally opening the door.

The estate was massive, with an equally sprawling yard—a place you could almost call a small manor. Usually, guests would arrive by car, but since the driver was on vacation, like most of the staff, I wasn’t about to drive out and pick them up. Enoch and Vivianne, after rushing from the airport, didn’t even stop to eat. Now, they were left hungry, thirsty, and stuck waiting at the gate. When the gates finally opened, they had no choice but to walk the long path inside on foot. “This place is enormous,” Vivianne said, awe and envy flickering in her eyes. “When we get married, I’ll buy you something just as big,” Enoch boasted, trying to impress her. “That must be really expensive,” Vivianne said sweetly. “But honestly, I don’t need all that. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy no matter where we live.” Her words, dripping with reliance and affection, inflated Enoch’s ego. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you a few mansions so you can pick and choose!” he declared grandly. But as they neared the main door, Enoch’s confidence began to waver. He’d always respected Chris, his adoptive father, ever since he’d seen how the man dealt with insubordination. As a child, Enoch didn’t care much about Chris, but as he grew older, witnessing how Chris handled difficult situations made him more cautious around the man. Still, Chris rarely got involved in family matters, and that was part of the reason Enoch dared to run off before the wedding. He was certain Chris wouldn’t bother getting involved in something so petty. After all, as the heir to Westfield Corporation, Chris couldn’t treat him like anyone else. With that thought, Enoch psyched himself up. “Hey, Dad,” he said, pushing the door open, only to be greeted by a surprise. It wasn’t Chris at the door—it was me, Laurel Henderson, smiling warmly at him. “Hello there~”

“You—you—what are you doing here!” Enoch stammered, instinctively stepping back. “Ah!” Vivianne, who was standing right behind him, didn’t have time to react and got her foot stepped on. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pain. Hearing Vivianne’s yelp, Enoch snapped out of it. “Are you okay, Vivianne?” he asked, rushing to her side. “As long as you’re alright, Enoch,” Vivianne said, biting her lip, looking delicate and vulnerable. Enoch spent a good amount of time comforting her right in front of me before finally turning his attention back to me. “Laurel! I never expected you to be this cruel!” What? What did I do? I hadn’t moved an inch since they arrived, and now I was being accused of cruelty? Even Enoch seemed to realize how ridiculous that sounded, so he quickly changed his tone. “I didn’t expect you to be so shameless! The wedding didn’t even happen, and yet here you are, living in our house! I don’t like you. We don’t have a future together. This is my girlfriend, Vivianne. We’re getting married soon.” “And what made you think that’s even remotely possible?” I was genuinely confused, and honestly, a bit speechless. Seriously, had this guy not seen the news? Where did he get the idea that I would still be hanging around for him? Have I ever clung to him? I mentally reviewed every moment I had ever spent with Enoch. I was sure of it—there was absolutely no reason for him to think I’d been hung up on him. Was this guy delusional? “Listen, I understand you and Enoch were engaged, but you never actually got married. Enoch and I are truly in love. Please, just let us be together,” Vivianne said, her tears flowing freely like a broken faucet. She wept as if I were the villain of the story, suffering some great injustice. Enoch, clearly moved, yelled, “Laurel! You’ve gone too far!” What?! What did I do? I stood there, baffled by the sheer absurdity of their logic. Were they both out of their minds? I couldn’t help but laugh. “Has the mental hospital run out of room for the two of you? Is that why you’re here causing trouble?” It took Enoch a moment to process my words. “You’re the one who’s insane!” Seeing my complete lack of concern, Enoch hesitated, wondering if maybe I didn’t care about him after all. But he quickly dismissed the thought, reminding himself that this was the Westfield Estate, not the Henderson home. Laurel had to be here because of him. She must be putting on this act just to get his attention. Enoch softened his tone. “Laurel, I have someone I care about now. We can’t have a future together. Just apologize to Vivianne, and maybe we can stay friends.” Friends? With these idiots? No thanks. I wasn’t about to catch their stupidity.

Just as I was about to fire back, a deep, magnetic voice came from behind me. “What’s going on here?” Everyone turned to look. Chris stood there, wearing a custom black shirt that hugged his well-built body, his chiseled face and commanding presence drawing all the attention. His long fingers gently placed a bowl on the dining table, every movement smooth and composed. Even Vivianne seemed mesmerized. “Dad, we’re back. Why is she here?” Enoch immediately asked, eager for Chris to side with him. But Chris didn’t answer. Instead, he waved a hand toward me. “Come eat.” Enoch and Vivianne exchanged confused glances, thinking Chris was calling them to the table. “Dad, you even made us breakfast,” Enoch said gratefully, starting to lead Vivianne toward the table. Before they could get close, Chris blocked their way. “Dad?” Enoch asked, bewildered. Chris extended his hand again, this time more deliberately. “Sweetheart, I’m here~” I said, beaming as I hurried to him and took his hand in front of both of them. The look on Enoch and Vivianne’s faces—eyes wide, jaws dropping—was priceless. “Son, care to greet your new stepmother?” I asked, my smile growing brighter. The two of them were frozen in place, their mouths still hanging open. Chris ignored them completely, pulling me to sit down at the table. “Eat up. The food’s getting cold.” It took Enoch a good two minutes to recover from the shock. “What?! When—when did this happen? How is this even possible?” Enoch sputtered, his voice loud enough to carry through the room. “On the day of the wedding, of course,” I replied, savoring the sight of his disbelief. To see Enoch, who had been so full of himself just moments ago, now gaping in shock—it was glorious.

“Dad, how could you marry her?” Enoch protested, glaring at me. Seeing the smug look on my face only fueled his anger. “She must have done this on purpose! You can’t be serious! Besides, she’s way younger than you. This makes no sense!” Okay, I’ll admit, my decision to marry Chris was initially driven by a little bit of revenge. But mostly, I did it because I couldn’t let my family lose face in front of everyone. People like us don’t expect to marry for love. Choosing Chris had everything to do with his status. Plus, he was miles better than Enoch in every way—looks, intelligence, everything. And on top of that, he actually enjoyed spoiling me. “Age is just a number. Love knows no boundaries,” I said, raising an eyebrow. Then, just to rub it in, I kissed Chris on the cheek, right in front of Enoch. “Revenge? Using a marriage for that? You really think you’re worth it?” “Come on, son. Call me Mom! Or I might just suggest to your dad that he find a new heir,” I teased. Enoch, now red with fury, turned to Chris for help. “Dad, are you just going to let her talk to me like this?” Chris finally looked at him. Enoch thought, for a split second, that his father might step in. But instead, Chris gently ruffled my hair and said, “There’s nothing I can do to stop her. Besides, Laurel is my wife now, and you should respect her as your mother.” Enoch’s face turned even darker, filled with frustration. He had never been so humiliated in his life. He turned, ready to storm off. Just then, Vivianne tugged on his sleeve. Enoch looked down at her pleading face and, with great reluctance, turned back. “Fine. Mom.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294750”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #校园School #魔幻Magic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #重生Reborn

Recently, my daughter has become unpredictable, often shifting between extreme excitement and deep disappointment, all because of something her teacher said. After pressing her about it repeatedly, she finally confessed, telling me, “Mom, you’re a bad mom. I wish my dance teacher were my mom instead.” “If only Mrs. Drake were my mom, Dad would smile more, too.” I frowned, my instincts as a woman screaming inside me. That woman was trying to seduce my husband and was attempting to manipulate my daughter. My name is Lauren Simmons, and I’m 31 years old. I’m married, the only child of a small business owner, and I hold an MBA from a prestigious program abroad. I currently work as the marketing manager for my father’s company. To outsiders, my life seems like a dream: the daughter of a successful businessman, highly educated, married, and a mother. But deep down, I’m full of insecurities, largely shaped by my experience growing up in a single-parent household. I often come across as distant and cold to others. And when it comes to family life, I’ve never been as invested as I am in my career. My husband Brian is attractive and successful, and our daughter Sophia is sweet and well-behaved. But the one imperfection in my otherwise ideal life is that, after giving birth, I immediately dove back into work, missing the critical window for postpartum recovery. As a result, I still have excess skin on my stomach and a noticeable C-section scar, which has always been a source of regret for me. Brian never seemed to mind. He would always wrap his arms around my waist and whisper, “Babe, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me.” He had said this to me twice before: once during our wedding vows, and once after the difficult birth of our daughter, when I was bleeding out due to her breech position. I still remember being in the ICU, my eyes blurred with tears and the stench of blood clinging to me. I asked him then, “Do I look awful, honey?” And just like before, he kissed my hand without hesitation, assuring me that I was the most beautiful woman in the world to him. His tenderness and love had sustained the quiet warmth of our marriage, keeping it steady but never too intense. Now, our daughter Sophia is four years old and attending Bluebell Preschool. Brian has embraced his role as both a great dad and a responsible husband. While I’m often busy with work, he works the late shift as a software engineer, so he’s usually the one picking up Sophia after school. One day, I got a notification from a parenting forum on my phone. It said the most important thing for a child’s growth is the parents’ presence. Guilt washed over me. I realized it had been far too long since I spent quality time with Sophia. So that afternoon, I left work early and called Brian. “Honey, I’ll pick up Sophia today. Bluebell Preschool, Middle Group, right? I go in through the east entrance, don’t I?” I had to admit, I hadn’t been doing enough when it came to spending time with Sophia. Brian only picked her up from school because my work hours clashed with hers. But when we got home, I was the one who always cooked dinner. I had even gone out of my way to get a certified nutritionist license, all to make sure I could cook balanced, healthy meals for them. I rarely went to pick Sophia up from school. The only time I’d been there was for a parent-teacher meeting, and I had gotten the time wrong. Brian didn’t pick up his phone, so I stood there for an hour and a half, confused, until I saw the other parents trickling out of the building. Sophia, with her little backpack, spotted me, her eyes widening in surprise. When she came over, I quickly took her backpack and said, “Mommy’s been waiting here for you.” She pouted, “Mom, you’re so silly! Today we had extra dance practice, and you didn’t even know!” I crouched down, full of guilt. Brian hadn’t told me, so I came at her usual pick-up time. That’s when I noticed something on her lips—a little oil from something spicy. It was barely noticeable, but as her mom, I caught it immediately. As a certified nutritionist, I was strict about Sophia not eating junk food. Hot Cheetos and potato chips were off-limits, even though she loved them. I grabbed her little hand and sniffed it. She had washed her hands, but the scent of food additives clung to her skin, even under the soap. My face darkened. “Sophia, did you eat Hot Cheetos?” Seeing that I was upset, her expression deflated, but she stubbornly refused to admit it. “Haven’t I taught you to be an honest little girl? Don’t lie to Mommy, okay?” I tried to stay calm. Kids her age didn’t need harsh punishments, but firm guidance. With my gentle coaxing, Sophia finally spoke up. She said Mrs. Drake had given her the Hot Cheetos, but only to her. Mrs. Drake told her not to mention it to her parents or her friends. “If only Mrs. Drake were my mom, Dad would be happier,” Sophia said with a pout. My brows furrowed as I tightened my grip on her tiny wrist, anger simmering in my voice. “What did you just say? Do you know how much it hurts me to hear you talk like that?” She yanked her hand away, tears welling up in her eyes. She grabbed my water bottle from my hand and threw it on the ground, breaking it. “She buys me fried chicken and Hot Cheetos! She plays with me! You don’t give me anything I want!” I stood frozen, staring at my normally sweet daughter, who was now throwing tantrums and breaking things. I began to realize how much I had failed in my role as a mother. My daughter actually thought another woman would make a better mom. But in her innocent way, she had also told me something shocking: my husband had shown affection for another woman.

And this woman, in order to win my daughter over, had been doing everything she could to charm her. This Melissa Drake, the dance teacher at Bluebell Preschool, had been in Sophia’s class since she was little. I’d seen her once in a class photo and jokingly told Brian, “Look at this teacher. She’s so pretty and youthful, like one of the older kids.” Brian had laughed, “She’s thirty already! But I’ll admit, she’s kept in great shape. Used to be a yoga instructor. Her kid’s around three now, but you wouldn’t know it from looking at her.” I’d had a flash of surprise at how much Brian knew about her, but I shrugged it off. After all, he was the one who picked Sophia up from school. It made sense that he’d hear things. Looking back, it all seemed so obvious now. But growing up in a fractured home had made me cautious and insecure. Without concrete proof, I didn’t want to ruin the peace in our family. Maybe Sophia was just saying things out of anger. Maybe Mrs. Drake had a family of her own. She was, after all, a teacher. I tried to reassure myself, worried that my suspicions were just baseless paranoia. In a few days, there would be the School Talent Show, and Sophia was performing a dance number, led by none other than Mrs. Drake. I decided I would go see her myself, to find out what was really going on. By June, the heat in our small Southern town was already unbearable. I couldn’t bring myself to wear a dress, so I stuck to my usual button-down and cropped pants. My C-section scar and the stretch marks that snaked down my legs still made me incredibly self-conscious. When I arrived at Bluebell Preschool, I saw her immediately—the woman who was smiling so sweetly by the stage. Even without filters or makeup, she looked just as stunning as she had in the photos, embodying the “slim and youthful” beauty standards to perfection. I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her for a moment. She was gorgeous. If only I hadn’t thrown myself back into work so soon after giving birth, maybe I wouldn’t be so different from her. Melissa Drake was wearing a white crop top and had her hair tied in cute little pigtails. Her slim, curvy figure was even more striking up close. She was crouched by the stage, gently encouraging the children. “All right, sweeties, have you memorized your steps for the performance?” “Yes—ma’am!” they shouted in unison. The most excited of all was my daughter Sophia. Her little pointed fairy ears were perched on her head, and glittering purple eyeshadow made her big eyes sparkle. I stood in the shade, watching her—the one thing in this world I loved more than anything. As for what had happened in the past few days, all I felt was guilt and shame. After a long night of thinking, I decided to adjust my work schedule. I would spend more time with Sophia. I needed to be part of her childhood, not some other woman. Then, Melissa Drake noticed me and walked over with a beaming smile. “Hello there! Are you here to see one of the kids? Why not take a seat in the audience?” Up close, her body looked even more striking, with her tiny waist and a sparkling belly button ring. I forced a smile. “Uh, I’m Sophia’s mom.” The look on her face froze for a split second, and I caught a glint of something sneaky in her eyes. “Her grandma?” she asked sweetly. I frowned. Sure, I hadn’t bounced back after having a baby, but I didn’t look that old. “…No, I’m her mom.” She put on a show of surprise, her voice still syrupy. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I just thought—since some of the other kids’ grandmas look so young too. I guess it’s because Sophia’s dad usually picks her up. I don’t see you very often.” Her comment, laced with passive-aggression, brought me back to reality. I knew why I was here now. Things were starting to make sense. No wonder Sophia liked her. This kind of woman, with her charm and sweet words, could easily win anyone over. Thinking back on what Sophia had said the other day, I couldn’t help but feel disheartened. I took pictures of Sophia’s performance, my camera focusing on her small, happy figure. But out of the corner of my eye, my gaze lingered on Melissa Drake’s smiling face. She was also thirty… but she looked so much better than I did. The way Sophia had gravitated toward her terrified me, and I felt the tears well up in my eyes. If my suspicions were true, my daughter would be so happy to have a beautiful, kind stepmom like her. And Brian would be even happier. So what was I? Just something to be discarded when I was no longer useful?

I spent the next several days in a daze. Something felt wrong, but I didn’t want to confront it directly. Even Brian started noticing my distance and asked, “Honey, what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?” I shook my head. He was perfect. Too perfect. There was nothing I could blame him for. But the calmer the surface of a lake, the more you suspect the currents hiding beneath it. Two weeks passed, and I tried to put everything out of my mind. My new project at work had me completely swamped, but I didn’t complain. After all, my boss promised that once I wrapped up this deal, I could finally take some time off. Time I could spend with Sophia. On Tuesday, a rainy day, just before I was about to finish work, I got a call from the preschool’s phone. On the other end, Sophia’s small voice sounded excited. “Mom, you don’t need to pick me up today. I’m going to Emma’s house for a birthday party. Her mom is coming to get us.” “Oh,” I replied, a little caught off guard. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I could’ve helped you pick out a birthday gift. It’s not polite to show up empty-handed.” Sophia’s voice grew proud, “Mrs. Drake already took me shopping. She helped me pick out a crystal music box. It cost over 800 dollars!” Eight hundred dollars? I was stunned. Why was a preschool teacher helping my daughter pick out such an expensive gift for a birthday party? Mrs. Drake again. Whenever Sophia talked about school, she could hardly stop talking about that woman. It was like she’d been bewitched. I had even asked some of the other kids at school, and they all enthusiastically told me that Sophia was Mrs. Drake’s favorite student. “She always praises her. If someone else messes up their dance steps, they have to stand in the corner, but not Sophia. Mrs. Drake is so gentle with her.” But I knew better. Sophia had no particular talent for dancing and was often lazy about practice. All these thoughts were making me uneasy. I softly reminded her to stay safe before she hurriedly hung up the phone. I sat there holding my phone for a long time, my mind racing. I turned to my coworker and asked, “Can you take over and finish this report? I need to leave early for something important.” She hesitated, “Lauren, you’ve been handling this overseas project. Even if I wanted to help, I wouldn’t be able to do it justice. I don’t want to mess things up.” My mind was a tangled mess, but I still didn’t want to neglect my work. I didn’t want to let my boss down. So I stayed until after 8 PM, working frantically to finish the project. Without even stopping for dinner, I rushed out to pick up Sophia. I pulled out her class contact sheet and found Emma’s address at Ridgewood Heights Estate, building 13. I drove straight there. Emma’s house was enormous. The doors were wide open for the birthday party, but strangely, no one was around. The housekeeper told me that Emma and the other kids had gone to Lakeview Park to watch the tide, but my heart skipped a beat. “What about Sophia?” I asked. “She’s the one with the red polka-dot dress and pigtails.” The housekeeper thought for a moment, “Oh yes, I saw her. Mrs. Drake brought her. They didn’t go to the park though—they’re still inside, talking in one of the rooms.” While everyone else was out having fun, Mrs. Drake had kept my daughter inside? What were they doing? A terrible feeling crept over me. Ignoring the housekeeper’s protests, I hurried inside, clutching my purse. I stopped outside the only room with voices coming from inside, furrowing my brow as I strained to hear what was happening.

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My mom’s funeral had barely ended when Aunt Vanessa showed up at our doorstep. She declared that she was willing to step into my mom’s shoes. My dad, clearly moved by the gesture, was ready to add her name to the house deed. At that moment, I realized one thing—when emotions are involved, money is bound to get hurt. Aunt Vanessa’s intentions were clear as day. Aunt Vanessa is thirty-eight, though she looks like she’s barely twenty-eight. She’s still attractive, her smile always bright and warm. She’s been divorced four times, and each time, it was because she cheated. Grandma Ruby spent most of her life worrying about her, even going as far as consulting a fortune teller for answers. The fortune teller said Aunt Vanessa had a “curse of love,” a fate tangled with endless romantic entanglements. I never thought she would bring that curse to our family. Just days after my mom’s funeral, she came to our house, professing her love to my dad. She told him she was willing to be my mom’s “replacement,” taking care of both him and me. And my dad agreed. I couldn’t believe it. I had a full-on argument with him about it. He sighed, suddenly looking much older than he had before. “Savannah, your dad’s getting old. You’re off at college most of the time. I just want someone by my side.” I wasn’t against him finding someone new, but he wanted to marry Aunt Vanessa, my mom’s sister! “Dad, you know what Aunt Vanessa is like. You can’t be serious!” Was he trying to set himself up to be cheated on? He looked at me, torn, almost pleading. “She promised me she’s changed. And Savannah, she’s your aunt. We’re family.” At that moment, I realized that no matter what I said, my dad had already made up his mind. Sure enough, that very night, Aunt Vanessa moved in, bringing her daughter Ivy, my cousin who had just started junior high. Aunt Vanessa was a great cook, but I couldn’t stomach a single bite of the meal she prepared. At dinner, she kept piling food onto my plate, saying, “Savannah, tell me what you like, and I’ll cook it for you every day.” I gave a cold smile, stood up, and said, “I’m packing my things. I’m leaving for school tomorrow.” Out of sight, out of mind. As I shut the door, I overheard Ivy’s voice: “Mom, why are we living at Savannah’s house?” Aunt Vanessa’s response was chilling. “Ivy, this is our home now. Call him ‘Daddy.’” Ivy, in her sweet, innocent voice, said, “Daddy,” and my dad responded with a big smile, saying, “Good girl, good girl.” And just like that, they became their own little family. After that, I only messaged my dad occasionally. It seemed like life with Aunt Vanessa was going just fine. For winter break, I had lined up an internship and wasn’t planning on going home. But after an entire semester without seeing my dad, I missed him and decided to go back for a couple of days. When I arrived and opened my bedroom door, I was shocked to see Ivy on my bed, eating potato chips. She looked equally surprised when she saw me and scrambled to sit up, spilling chips all over the sheets. I’m a neat freak. I don’t allow anyone to eat in my room. So how could I tolerate someone else doing it? I marched over, my voice stern as I said, “Who told you to come in here? From now on, don’t ever enter my room without my permission.” Ivy didn’t move, sitting on the bed as if nothing happened. “Savannah, this is my room now.” I took a moment to look around and realized that my room had been completely transformed. Wow. It had only been a semester, and my room was gone.

I hadn’t told my dad I was coming back because I wanted to surprise him. Instead, he ended up surprising me. Ivy told me that he and Aunt Vanessa had gone out to buy groceries, so I sat on the couch, waiting. Sure enough, they returned soon, laughing and chatting like they didn’t have a care in the world. My dad’s smile faded slightly when he saw me. He furrowed his brow. “Savannah, what are you doing here? Didn’t you say you were working?” That disappointment I had been holding in all semester just spilled out. “What happened to my room?” Aunt Vanessa glanced at my dad but stayed quiet, clearly leaving it to him to explain. He looked uncomfortable, then tried to explain. “Savannah, you’re hardly ever home now. I let your sister use the room.” We have three bedrooms—one for the master, one for guests, and a small room in the attic. I pointed upstairs, looking directly at Aunt Vanessa. “Move Ivy’s things up there. She’s not allowed in my room anymore.” Aunt Vanessa put on her usual tearful act. “Savannah, Ivy’s your sister. How can you treat her like this?” I never liked Aunt Vanessa, and her playing the victim only irritated me further. I wasn’t about to give her any leeway. “What did I do? I didn’t kick her out, but now you’ve taken over my room, and you’re acting like I’m the one at fault.” Aunt Vanessa looked down, sniffling. My dad, of course, felt sorry for her. His temper flared, and he barked at me, “Savannah Blake, is that how you talk to your elders? Apologize to your aunt!” I was furious. I stormed into the room and started throwing Ivy’s things out. Aunt Vanessa and Ivy screamed from the hallway, and my dad rushed in, grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me out. It was the first time my dad had ever laid a hand on me, and he did it for them—for outsiders. “Savannah, this is my house! I’ll decide who lives here. What’s gotten into you? Is this how I raised you?” I yanked my arm free. “This is your house, but it’s also mine. Half of it belonged to Mom, and now that she’s gone, that half is mine. So how dare you give my room to someone else?” Ivy suddenly chimed in, “It’s my mom’s house now too!” My heart sank as I stared at my dad in disbelief. He looked away, clearly ashamed. “I’ve already added your aunt’s name to the deed.” I looked at Aunt Vanessa and finally understood. Of course. She wasn’t interested in my dad—she was after our house. But so what? “Well, half of this house is still mine. You only own a quarter, so get your daughter’s stuff out of my room!” Aunt Vanessa clung to my dad, refusing to move. I was furious and stormed back into the room, continuing to throw Ivy’s things out. Ivy ran in to stop me, and I shoved her aside. Aunt Vanessa started wailing from outside the door, “What are you doing? How can you hit your sister?” Ivy, quick as ever, immediately sat on the floor and started crying. I hadn’t even touched her, and she was already playing the victim. My dad stormed in, grabbed me, and slapped me across the face. He actually hit me. I felt a wave of sadness and anger wash over me. I blinked back tears and nodded, saying, “Fine. I get it. From now on, you’re your own little family.” And with that, I grabbed my suitcase and left.

I dragged my suitcase to Grandma Ruby’s house. I told her and Grandpa Howard everything that had happened, hoping they would speak some sense into Aunt Vanessa. But Grandma Ruby said, “Savannah, your aunt and your dad are a family now. It’s only natural for her to want her share. Besides, Vanessa has had a hard life. She’s finally settled down; you should cut her some slack.” I was speechless. Grandma Ruby had always favored Aunt Vanessa because she was her “baby.” She had spoiled her to the point of turning her into the woman she was today. And even now, she was defending her. Grandma asked if I wanted her to cook something for me, but I just picked up my suitcase and left. With nowhere else to go, I headed to Uncle Martin’s house. When he heard about the chaos at home, his temper flared. “That idiot! I told him to keep an eye on that deed, and what does he do? He goes and puts that woman’s name on it.” Uncle Martin was ready to march over and confront my dad, but Ethan, my cousin, stopped him. “Her name’s already on the deed. What’s the point in fighting now?” Then Ethan turned to me and said, “Just stay here for now. Don’t worry. You’re not alone. The Blake family isn’t dead yet.” Tears welled up in my eyes, and I started crying. Aunt Jolene came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands. “Alright, that’s enough. Savannah, you must be exhausted after the trip. Come over and have something warm to eat.” I wiped my tears and joined them for dinner. Uncle Martin’s family treated me better than my own dad. After dinner, Aunt Jolene told me to rest, but I was too angry to sleep. Uncle Martin noticed and called me over. “Savannah, do you know how much money your family has?” I nodded. “Yes. Mom told me everything before she passed. She knew Dad was soft and wouldn’t be able to stand his ground.” We lived in a small but wealthy town, ranked as one of the top places to live in the country. My mom had owned a storefront near our neighborhood, which she bought along with our house. It was in her name, but she transferred it to me before she passed. There was also our house and a plot of land near the edge of town, waiting to be developed. My dad worked at Chesterville General Hospital, earning a good salary of over $5,000 a month. Between that and my mom’s business, they had saved quite a bit—about $200,000, all in my mom’s name. I had the savings account in my possession now. After my mom passed, I rented out the storefront to a nail salon, collecting $3,000 a year in rent. When I finished explaining all of this, Uncle Martin nodded. “Well, it’s a good thing your mom had foresight. Otherwise, your aunt would have bled your family dry. Now, about that quarter of the house—what do you want to do?”

There was no way I was going to let Aunt Vanessa take our family’s things. The house had to come back. “But her name’s already on the deed. Can we even get it back?” Ethan sat down beside me, giving my shoulder a reassuring pat. “If you want it back, I’ll help you find a lawyer.” Seeing the determination in his eyes gave me confidence. I did some research online, and it seemed like even if she hadn’t paid for the house, there was a chance she could claim half. The legalities were complicated, and there were different opinions depending on when her name was added. The key was to get more information from my dad. So the next morning, I called him, asking him to meet me at Uncle Martin’s house. I waited all day, but he never showed. When I called again, he said Aunt Vanessa wasn’t feeling well, so he couldn’t come. I wasn’t convinced she was really sick. I packed up my things and headed home. This winter break, I might skip my internship, but I wasn’t going to skip taking back the house. When I arrived, they were in the middle of dinner—eating a huge spread of food. My dad stood up, placing a plate of food in front of Ivy. The sight made me furious. When he noticed me, he smiled and said, “Savannah, you’re back! Come on, have some hotpot.” I looked at him coldly. “Dad, this is my house. Do you think of me as a guest now?” His smile faltered. Aunt Vanessa came over, trying to smooth things over. “Come on, Savannah. We’re family. Who’s treating you like a guest?” Dad quickly fetched another plate and utensils for me, even adding some beef to my bowl in an attempt to make peace. I took a bite of the beef and turned to Aunt Vanessa. “Aunt Vanessa, Dad said you were sick. What’s wrong?” She looked healthy enough to me. She smiled, waving it off. “Just a little headache. It’s nothing. I took some medicine, and I’m fine now. Savannah, eat more. Have some meat.” I said nothing more. After dinner, I was planning to have a serious talk with my dad, but Aunt Vanessa and Ivy approached me. “Ivy, apologize to your sister.” Ivy even gave me a little bow. “Savannah, I’m sorry for taking your room. I shouldn’t have done that. Please forgive me.” Aunt Vanessa chimed in with her own apology. “I’m really sorry, Savannah. It’s just that you said you wouldn’t be coming home, so your dad gave the room to Ivy. She struggles to climb up to the attic, and she’s still young. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her up there alone. Now that you’re back, the room is yours again.” My dad nodded in agreement. “Yes, Aunt Vanessa already apologized. She didn’t mean to cause trouble. After dinner, let’s go to Uncle Martin’s and get your things.” I was surprised by how quickly they had changed their tune, especially those two.

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On Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend gave me a box of decorative straw and tried to coax me into booking a room at the Sunset Lodge with him. Instead, I got into a G-Wagon, and he called me a gold digger. Then my childhood friend, who comes from old money, smirked and said, “Your family’s thousands of acres of ranch land aren’t big enough for you? Why settle for this one little weed?” “Happy Valentine’s Day, babe!” Tanner stood in front of me, beaming as he handed me a small gift box in our room at Sunset Lodge, just outside of Lakeshore University. Cigarette smoke drifted through the door cracks, irritating my eyes, but I still felt touched. I knew he had been working a summer job for two months, and all his effort was in that tiny box. Eagerly, I reached out to open it, but he gently stopped my hand. “Wait, Riley, open it later, okay?” “Okay,” I smiled sweetly at him. As Tanner went to shower, I nervously scrolled through my phone, reading advice for girls on their “first time,” growing more anxious with every word. I needed something to distract me, so my eyes fell on the unopened gift box. Just a peek wouldn’t hurt, right? Carefully untying the ribbon, I opened the layers of packaging. But what I saw inside made me freeze. After two months of hard work, Tanner had given me… shredded paper confetti? I dug through the confetti, refusing to believe it, until my fingers brushed something hard. I pulled it out—a cheap plastic keychain, complete with a $5 price tag still attached. In that moment, all my joy and anticipation drained away. It wasn’t just a cheap keychain. It felt like it had put a price tag on me, too. “See, Riley,” it seemed to mock, “you’re worth $5 to him.” Suddenly, Tanner’s phone buzzed on the bed, snapping me back to reality. Absentmindedly, I picked it up and saw a string of messages from his mom: “Son, how’s school going? I sent you $500. Let me know if you need more.” “Make sure you’re eating well! Don’t spend all your money on that girlfriend!” “By the way, our neighbor’s son just got married—no fancy ceremony, no new house, just brought the bride home.” “You better hurry and get her pregnant, then we won’t need to worry about paying for the wedding!” “And if it doesn’t work, poke some holes in those things. No one will notice.” I stared at the screen, horrified. My body went cold even though it was the height of summer, a shiver running down my spine. Anger, disgust, shame—all of it swirled in my head. I couldn’t take it anymore. Pushing open the door, I ran out of the room, gasping for air.  

I almost sprinted all the way back to Crestview Hall, where my roommates, Brooke and Savannah, jumped at the sight of me. “Riley, what happened? Weren’t you spending Valentine’s Day with Tanner?” Savannah asked, wide-eyed. Before I could answer, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Tanner was calling. I took a deep breath and picked up. “Riley, where are you? You promised we’d spend the night together! I already paid over a hundred bucks for this room, and the front desk won’t refund it!” he yelled. His tone turned threatening. “If you don’t come back now, we’re done.” He’d said that to me before, and each time I would cave, apologizing like a scolded child. But not this time. I swallowed my frustration and opened Instagram, transferring him $1,000. “Take this, Tanner. Consider it a refund. We’re over. Don’t contact me again.” Brooke and Savannah stared at me in shock. Brooke gave me a thumbs up, silently celebrating that I’d finally come to my senses. “Are you out of your mind, Riley? What the hell are you saying?” Tanner’s voice sounded panicked, realizing his usual threat wasn’t working this time. I hung up and ignored his repeated calls. Eventually, he gave up, accepting the money I’d sent. “Fine, break up then. Just don’t come crying to me later. No one’s gonna want you with that face.” “You’ll regret this someday.” I glanced at the mirror across the room, looking at my reflection. My skin was smooth and fair—except for the dark bluish birthmark that marred one side of my face. It was hideous, a constant reminder of my insecurity. But this time, no matter what, I wasn’t crawling back to him. Even though… he used to love me once.  

Tanner and I met during freshman year. Back then, my face was flawless. Tanner had earned quite a reputation for himself, the “self-made” guy who’d lost his father young. His good looks and quiet strength made him a star in our department. I grew up with everything handed to me, and I was quickly drawn to his unassuming charm. He had dignity, even though he was poor. I chased him relentlessly, showering him with expensive gifts he refused to accept. Even after we got together, he always told me not to waste money. I wanted to please him, so I stopped buying thousand-dollar dresses and started eating at food trucks instead of fancy restaurants. My friends, especially Brooke, worried about me. She said Tanner was emotionally manipulating me, but I brushed her off. I thought Tanner really loved me. He would get jealous when other guys looked at me, bring me hot cocoa with marshmallows during my period, and remember everything I liked and disliked. He was the most attentive boyfriend I’d ever had. Most importantly, when my face began to change, he didn’t leave me. It was during the second half of sophomore year that the dark patches appeared on the left side of my face. At first, I wasn’t concerned. I bought all kinds of expensive creams, but nothing worked. The patches grew worse, eventually covering a large part of my face. I became reclusive, avoiding people, and slipping into depression. Tanner stood by me, even accompanying me to the doctor. The next day, he showed up with my test results and told me it was likely a genetic condition with no cure. I was devastated, but Tanner was my light. “Don’t worry, Riley. No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side. No one will ever love you more than I do.” He comforted me until I came out of my dark place. He didn’t reject me because of my face; in fact, he became even kinder. He even promised we’d get married after graduation. Tanner took me to social events with his friends, though I always felt out of place, especially around their flawless, beautiful girlfriends. “Tanner, what if I try cosmetic surgery?” I asked nervously one day. He flatly refused, frowning. “Riley, do you think I only loved you because of your looks? How could you even suggest that? I said I’ll love you no matter what.” “Surgery is fake and gross. I hate those influencer faces.” So, I gave up on the idea of cosmetic surgery and comforted myself with the thought that as long as Tanner didn’t mind my face, I didn’t need to care either.  

But now, Tanner is no longer a part of my life. I stared at my reflection again, making up my mind. I was going to try cosmetic surgery, no matter how slim the chances were that it would work. Tanner kept sending messages, his tone changing from threats to apologies, softening with every text. Before I could reply, Savannah’s phone buzzed. I recognized the voice instantly—it was Tanner. “Savannah, can you believe Riley? She doesn’t appreciate me. If only she was as understanding as you,” he said. I looked up, meeting Savannah’s guilty, nervous gaze. “Riley, don’t get the wrong idea. Tanner’s just upset about the breakup. I was trying to calm him down.” Hearing Tanner’s sweet words in his messages, I felt sick to my stomach. Understanding? Of what? Of his attempt to trap me into getting pregnant so he wouldn’t have to pay for a wedding? Or maybe Savannah was comforting him because she knew I wouldn’t anymore. “Don’t bother pretending, Savannah. I’ve known about your little games for a while. Just because I haven’t said anything doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” Savannah had hated me since day one. She came from a small town, starting as a nobody. Other students made fun of her background, but I had been kind. I lent her clothes, gave her advice. But as she shed her small-town image and started getting compliments, things changed. People began to notice how much we resembled each other, though more often than not, they pointed out that Savannah was just my sidekick. And now, she wanted Tanner. Who knew how long they had been sneaking around behind my back?  

“Riley, how could you accuse me of that? I was just trying to help!” Savannah’s voice quivered as tears welled up in her eyes. Even Brooke seemed to think I was overreacting. Brooke nudged me, “Riley, forget Tanner. Don’t let him ruin our roommate bond.” I sighed, pulling up a folder of pictures on my phone. I placed it on the table, scrolling through them one by one. The first showed Savannah adding something to my face cream. The second showed her sneaking into my drawer to take my wallet. The third was a love note she had written—to Tanner. As I swiped through each photo, Savannah’s face paled, and Brooke’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You knew all along!” Savannah shrieked. “You’ve just been watching me, waiting to laugh at me, haven’t you?” I stayed silent as Brooke, clearly shocked, stood frozen. Savannah’s expression turned vicious as she thrust her phone toward me. “Money means nothing now, Riley. You’ve lost your perfect face and your loyal boyfriend. What do you have left? You can’t keep stepping on me to make yourself feel superior!” She shoved her phone in my face, revealing messages between her and Tanner dating back to last August. It turned out she had been after him for a long time. “Tanner, that $600 dress Riley wore—was that a gift from you? It’s gorgeous, but I could never afford something like that. I’m happy with my $10 tee, though.” Tanner replied: “Riley’s so materialistic. I think being frugal is better.” “Which of these pictures do you like more, Tanner?” she had asked, sending him two half-dressed selfies. He replied: “Both are great, but a little less clothing wouldn’t hurt ;)” I knew the difference in our upbringings was always a sore spot for Tanner. I had tried to meet him halfway, tried to protect his fragile pride. But in the end, I was still the one who didn’t “get it.” And Savannah, who was even more materialistic than I was, somehow became his down-to-earth, misunderstood soulmate. “Riley, you and Tanner don’t belong in the same world. Only I really understand him.” Yeah, maybe you’re right. You two are a perfect match, sharing the same self-pity and resentment for your upbringing. I looked at Savannah’s smug face and couldn’t help but laugh. “If you enjoy playing with trash, you can have him. Unlike me, you have nothing else going for you besides Tanner.” Savannah’s face went white with rage. She grabbed her phone and stormed out, no doubt running to Tanner for comfort. I hope they enjoy that $100 motel room. Best of luck to them.  

The next day, I searched for the address of a well-known cosmetic clinic—Westside Aesthetic Center—and booked an appointment with a dermatologist. When I arrived, a nurse led me inside, and I was surprised to see a young doctor waiting for me. I’d heard he had just returned from studying abroad. “Riley?” He looked at me with wide eyes, clearly shocked. I glanced up and saw a familiar face—Hunter Sinclair. “When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me?” Hunter had been my childhood friend. Our families were business partners and close friends, so I practically grew up with him. He was always surrounded by girls, a total playboy, while I had been the quiet, well-behaved one. He left for school overseas, and I stayed behind to attend Lakeshore University. With time differences and busy schedules, we lost touch. “I figured you didn’t want to talk to me after you blocked me on Instagram,” he said, looking genuinely hurt. Confused, I pulled out my phone and checked my contacts—he wasn’t there. “That’s weird. I never blocked you!” I muttered. But then it hit me—this was probably Tanner’s doing. He had a habit of deleting my male contacts out of jealousy. What I once thought was a sweet, possessive trait now seemed obsessive and unhealthy. I apologized and added him back on Instagram. Hunter’s gaze softened when he saw the dark patches on my face. “What happened to you?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. “I went to the hospital and they said it’s probably a genetic disorder. They told me there’s no treatment, so I’m hoping cosmetic surgery can fix it,” I explained, trying not to sound too desperate. Hunter frowned. “No way. Whoever told you that has no idea what they’re talking about. If it was genetic, you would have had these spots as a kid. Something external triggered this—either something you applied to your skin or hormone-related medications.” His words hit me like a ton of bricks. I’d never even considered that possibility. I’d gone to one of the top hospitals—Chicago General Hospital—and been seen by a renowned dermatologist. There was no way the hospital got it wrong. So that left only one explanation: Tanner. Tanner had faked my test results. I felt nauseous. All this time, Tanner had watched me crumble under the weight of my insecurity, and he still lied to me. Why? What was his end game? Hunter noticed the change in my expression, probably thinking I was upset about my skin. “Don’t worry, Riley. I studied this exact kind of condition abroad. It’s expensive, but it’s treatable. It’s not as bad as they made it sound.” His words brought a small sense of relief. In my world, money wasn’t the issue. If a solution could be bought, it was no longer a problem. But as my relief settled in, so did a deep, simmering anger. Tanner had been manipulating me all along, and I needed to find out why.  

Hunter went above and beyond. He had Westside Aesthetic Center import a special laser machine from the U.S., specifically for treating my skin condition. I was shocked that a new doctor had that kind of pull, but he grinned, reading my mind. “Come on, you think the ‘Prince of Sinclair Industries’ doesn’t have that kind of power?” he teased. It turned out Westside Aesthetic Center was owned by his family, which explained a lot. For the next two weeks, I underwent treatment. I even took a short leave from school, and every day, Hunter drove me home after the sessions, often staying for dinner. My mom was practically obsessed with him—she loved cooking for him, ever since we were kids. Whenever he showed up, my family set another plate at the table without a second thought. “Check yourself out,” Hunter said, handing me a mirror after the final treatment. “No more junk food or weird diet pills. That’s how you ended up with this in the first place.” He smirked, lecturing me like he always did. I ignored his scolding and stared at my reflection. My skin was flawless again—smooth, bright, and completely free of the dark patches that had tormented me for months. “Get in, princess. I’ll drop you off at school,” Hunter said, holding open the door to his Mercedes G-Wagon. “Don’t you have work?” I asked, climbing into the passenger seat. “Do you see me rushing anywhere? I’m the boss’s son. I leave when I want.” He put on his flashy gold sunglasses and revved the engine, heading toward Lakeshore University. Hunter babbled on about his time in the U.S., but my mind was elsewhere. As we pulled up near the main campus building, I spotted Tanner and Savannah walking together, holding hands. Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your ex? I remember seeing a picture of you two together on Instagram. What’s he doing with someone else?” “We broke up a while ago,” I said coldly. Hunter picked up on my mood, but instead of being somber, he grinned. “Who dumps a diamond for a pebble? Guess this means I have another shot, huh? Think I could be your backup plan, princess?” I laughed and swatted the back of his head. He’d been the same shameless flirt since we were kids. As we drove past Tanner and Savannah, Hunter slowed down the car, making sure they saw me. Tanner’s face turned pale when he spotted me in the passenger seat of Hunter’s luxury car. He ran into the street, waving his arms to stop us. Hunter rolled down the window, and I locked eyes with Tanner’s infuriatingly familiar face. “Riley?! What the hell are you doing with this guy? He’s just a spoiled rich kid. You think he’s any good for you? He’s probably slept with dozens of girls. God knows what kind of diseases he has!” Tanner spat, his words getting more desperate. “And your… your face?”

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Justin’s Oscar-winning “dream girl” was sobbing uncontrollably, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come between you two. I’m the one who should leave.” Justin pointed at me, accusing me of being too much. Then he turned and chased after her. Wow, and this woman’s supposed to be an Oscar-winner with that performance? I immediately called America’s Billionaire Tycoon, “Didn’t you say you wanted to marry me? Let’s get the marriage license tomorrow.” By the afternoon, Logan had already dragged me to the marriage license office. When we walked out, I, Samantha Harper, was officially a married woman. Logan waved the marriage certificate in his hand, smirking like a mischievous kid, completely masking his good looks. “Didn’t you once say you’d rather marry anyone but me? Said if you ever married me, I’d be a dog?” I nodded. “Yup, so now that I’ve married you, you’re officially a dog.” “You…” Logan gritted his teeth. “Samantha, your mouth is really—” “What? Deserving of a slap?” I tilted my head slightly, probably looking a little too cocky. “What? Wanna hit me?” Logan suddenly burst out laughing, taking slow steps toward me, clearly up to no good. Then he said one word: “Kiss.” He reached out, grabbed the back of my head, and kissed me. “!!” I shoved him away, wiping my mouth furiously. “Logan, what the hell are you doing?” Logan looked annoyed. “We’re married now. What’s wrong with kissing you? And tonight, you’re gonna spend our first night together as my wife.” “…” “Finally, the day has come. Just you wait, Samantha. Tonight’s going to be interesting.” Logan swaggered to his car, rolled down the window, and waved at me with that smug look of his. What a jerk. How did he ever manage to become America’s Billionaire Tycoon? I tucked the marriage certificate away and got ready to head back to work. That’s when Justin called. “Samantha, we should officially break up.” Haven’t we already broken up? He seriously called just to tell me that? When he yelled at me and ran after his precious “dream girl,” we were already done. I sighed impatiently, “You people sure have a lot of drama.” Justin: “…” I hung up and suddenly remembered something… Damn it, Logan drove me here and left. How am I supposed to get back? That jerk! I called an Uber and went back to Harper Industries. When my dad saw me, he looked me up and down. “Who are you? I don’t recognize you. Who are you looking for?” “…Dad, I broke up with Justin. Also, Logan and I got married today.” My dad’s face instantly lit up, a warm, fatherly smile spreading across his face. “There’s my precious daughter!” “…” Look at that, even my dad’s acting skills are better than Justin’s “dream girl.” He can change eight hundred expressions in a second. Then Dad suddenly huffed, “Why’d you two break up? Weren’t you all lovey-dovey with him? I told you not to date him, but you wouldn’t listen.” “Well, isn’t that because you kept pushing me to marry Logan?” If my parents hadn’t pressured me so much about marriage, I wouldn’t have rebelled and started dating someone just to spite them—only to get cheated on. And Logan’s no angel either. He’s got plenty of women on the side; don’t think I don’t know about them. I only married him to spite everyone. But now that I think about it, I kind of regret it. I need to have a serious talk with him. “So, you’re back to take over the company? Great! Your mom and I are finally free.” Dad jumped up, heading for the door with surprising agility. I quickly grabbed his arm. “Where are you going, Dad?” “To your mom. She’s been nagging me to take her on a vacation to the islands for two days. Now that you’re back, I can finally spend time with her.” Realizing how his words sounded, Dad cleared his throat and corrected himself, “I mean, it’s your fault for never being around. I barely have time to spend with her.” “…”

“Dad, you might not be able to spend all your time with Mom just yet. I’m not planning on taking over the company right now.” “Oh, great. You came back just to stress me out. Go, go!” My dad waved me out of the office. So much for that idea. Just then, Logan texted me, reminding me, “Don’t forget, we’re having our wedding night tonight.” “…” I clenched my teeth and replied, “Could you say it in a less crude way?” His voice message came through immediately: “That wasn’t crude. I didn’t even say ‘come home and sleep with me.’” My dad’s secretary walked by, giving me a knowing look. “Miss Harper.” “…” I think I need to consider moving to another planet. Logan is such a big-mouth. How is he a billionaire with absolutely no boss-like attitude? He acts like a playboy trust-fund kid—so annoying! Logan sent me another message with his address, telling me to come over for dinner and celebrate. Celebrate what, exactly? Is he really this excited about marrying me just to secure our family alliance? Well, considering I come from money too, and he knows I won’t try to control him, of course he’s happy. Around 7 PM, I arrived at Logan’s penthouse. The luxurious decor and his flashy taste hit me as soon as I stepped through the door. Logan was lounging on the couch, legs crossed, wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of orange floral shorts, casually sipping a glass of red wine. “You’re back.” “…” I walked over. “Didn’t you say we were having dinner? Where’s the food? I’m starving.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “It’s being prepared. Sit down.” He patted the spot next to him. I had barely sat down when he leaned in closer. I leaned away. “Stay back or you’re getting kicked.” “So, why did you suddenly agree to marry me? What happened to your not-so-dependable boyfriend?” Logan looked genuinely curious, like a nosy kid. Not that he’s dependable either. Ahem, not that I’m defending Justin. Justin cheated. “Not dependable” doesn’t even begin to describe how awful he was. I cleared my throat. “Well, because… it’s just…” “Alright, you don’t need to explain.” Logan raised a hand to stop me. Just when I thought he was being considerate for once, he blurted out, “So, you got dumped.” “…” I swear, Logan’s brain must’ve been kicked by a mule at some point. Then he suddenly had a revelation. “Wait, so that makes me your backup plan? I’m your rebound, aren’t I?” “If you don’t want to be the rebound, we can just get a divorce. I’m your backup plan too, aren’t I?” Logan nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true. I mean, I’m quite the catch.” “…” He’s insane. Just then, the kitchen staff came out and let us know dinner was ready. After we ate and relaxed for a bit, I started doing some yoga, and Logan decided to join in. After a while, he said, “Sam, you’re surprisingly flexible.” I kicked at him. “Can you stop being weird?” He looked genuinely hurt. “What? I was just complimenting you.” Okay, maybe he didn’t mean anything by it. I went upstairs to wash up, and of course, Logan followed me like a lost puppy. I was about to enter the bathroom when I stopped, and he bumped into me. “Why’d you stop?” “I’m taking a shower. Why are you following me?” Logan scratched his head. “How about we take a shower together?” I gave him a hard smack on the head. “Logan, are you trying to get yourself killed?” “I’m gonna shower alone!” Who the hell wants to take a shower with him. Idiot.

While soaking in the tub, I found myself in a daze. So, Logan and I are really married now? We’ve known each other since we were kids, but he’s always been such a brat. He used to pull my hair, tell on me for dating, and even rat me out to my parents when I got love letters at school… All these years, he’s driven me crazy. So when my parents pushed for our marriage, I told them I’d only marry Logan if I was desperate. Logan immediately fired back, “I don’t even like you. I’ve got plenty of women who are interested.” Then, when my parents kept pressuring me, I rebelled and started chasing after Justin. I don’t know what got into Logan. After hearing about me and Justin, he said, “Why don’t we just get married? That way you don’t have to waste your time chasing guys you’ll never catch.” His cocky mouth deserved all the punches I gave him over the years. Now that I think about it, he had it coming. Logan was already shouting for me to hurry up. Does he seriously only have one bathroom in this giant place? When I stepped out of the tub, I realized I forgot to bring any pajamas. This was my first time at his place, so I didn’t know where to look for anything. The yoga clothes I wore earlier? Yeah, Logan had found those for me, and they were brand new, so I wore them. I wrapped a towel around myself and walked to the door. “Logan, do you have any new pajamas?” “You didn’t bring pajamas with you?” Logan’s teasing voice came from outside the door. “It’s late. Why bother wearing anything?” “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you wear clothes at night?” “Nope.” I swung the door open. “Go get me some pajamas, now!” “Fine, fine, calm down.” Logan glanced at me, then turned to leave. Halfway to the door, he stopped and looked back at me. “Samantha.” “What?” He smirked. “You’ve got a killer body, seriously sexy.” I grabbed a towel from the cabinet and threw it at him. “Get out!” He’s such a… Pervert! Logan caught the towel with a grin and headed out. A while later, he came back with two sets of pajamas, handing me one. I glanced at the set in his hands. “Didn’t you say you don’t wear pajamas?” “Fine, I won’t wear them. I’ll go put these back.” He turned to leave. I grabbed him before he could. “Stop messing around. Where did you get these women’s pajamas from? Do you bring girls here often?” “Of course not! I don’t bring women here. These are brand new, just for you. I knew your size. After all, I’ve known you since we were kids…” I kicked him in the gut, nearly ensuring he’d never have kids. “Samantha, you’re not only trying to murder your husband, you’re out to kill any chance of us having kids! You heartless woman!” Logan bent over, clutching his stomach. “Shut up!” I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him anymore, so I went to change. From behind, Logan’s teasing voice rang out again, “Samantha, I saw you just now.” I charged back at him, ready to kill him. “Ahhh!” Logan’s screams echoed through the penthouse. About half an hour later, Logan emerged from the bathroom, drying his hair, while I sat on the bed with my arms crossed. “Come over here. I need to talk to you.” Logan walked over, still toweling his hair. “As long as it’s not about the wedding night, I’m all ears.” “It’s not that.” I sighed. “I’m here to set some ground rules. Sit.” I patted the bed beside me. Logan obediently sat down. With his bangs down and a fresh, clean look, he almost seemed harmless—a playful little pup instead of a cocky brat. Not bad, not bad. I patted his head. “Good boy.” “Don’t patronize me.” Logan swatted my hand away. “You’re only a month older than me. What are you acting all mature for?” I rolled my eyes and got serious. “Okay, since we’re married, here are a few rules you need to follow.”

“First, I don’t care how many women you’ve got, but no kids.” “Second, if you ever find someone you truly love, tell me, and we’ll get divorced immediately.” “Third, while we’re married, people need to believe we’re a happy couple. I don’t want anything affecting my family’s business.” I rattled off my conditions in one breath and then added, “Now it’s your turn. What rules do you have for me?” “I can agree to all of that. I only have one rule.” Logan held up one finger. “While we’re married, you can’t get too close to other men.” “That’s a given,” I agreed without thinking. Wait a second. “That’s a double standard. Can you cut ties with all your women?” Logan shrugged. “Done. No problem.” Just as the words left his mouth, his phone rang. I glanced at the screen. The caller ID read: “Big Darling.” I rolled my eyes. Logan answered the call with a few “uh-huhs” before hanging up. I scoffed. “Whatever. I said as long as you don’t have any kids with them, I don’t care.” “What are you talking about?” Logan tossed the phone aside. “Come on, let’s just get some sleep.” “…” I sighed. There’s just no point arguing with him. He doesn’t even give me the chance to be mad. I turned over and got under the covers. He crawled in next to me. “So, uh… lights on or off?” he asked. What’s going on? Why does it feel like he’s nervous? Now I’m getting nervous. “Off.” Logan switched off the lights, then immediately rolled over and kissed me. I resisted the urge to push him away. “Do you even know how to kiss? You just bit me.” “You’re the one who can’t kiss.” Logan cleared his throat. “Samantha, you’re shaking. Is this your first time?” “No… definitely not.” I exhaled. “Wait, are you a virgin?” “How could I be?” Logan sounded proud. “I’m very experienced.” … After last night, I’ve come to the conclusion that Logan was definitely lying. How could someone that bad be experienced? Who’s he trying to fool? Logan was still asleep, his arm wrapped around me. Just thinking about last night made me mad. I shoved him off and got out of bed. As I headed for the bathroom, Logan called out behind me, “Samantha, are you sore?” “No.” I gritted my teeth. I’m sore as hell. “Samantha.” Logan called again. Why is he so chatty? “What?” He nodded toward the bed, where there was a small bloodstain. “Weren’t you saying you weren’t a virgin?” “…” I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration. How could I have forgotten about that? Logan seemed quite pleased with himself, which only annoyed me more. So, just to wipe the smile off his face, I said, “That’s only because you’re terrible. I’ve never met anyone worse than you. And you call yourself experienced? What a joke.” Logan’s smile instantly vanished… No, it didn’t vanish—it transferred onto my face. I hummed as I made my way to the bathroom, leaving Logan furiously punching the bed behind me. He shouted after me, “Samantha, just wait! I’ll show you… I’ll show you…” I turned back with a smirk. “Show me what?” Logan paused, then struck a ridiculous, sultry pose on the bed. “I’ll make you beg for mercy.” “You’re insane. A total weirdo.” I shot him a look and went into the bathroom. “And who was lying about not being a virgin, huh? Tried to turn off the lights ‘cause you were embarrassed…” I grabbed a towel and chucked it at him.

I got a call from Stella Green later that morning. She wanted to meet up. Stella, Justin’s so-called “dream girl.” Why would she want to meet up after Justin and I had already broken up? When we met, it became clear—she just wanted to gloat. “Samantha, you should be thanking me. If I’d gone after Justin sooner, he’d have been mine from the start, and you wouldn’t have even had a chance to date him.” I looked at Stella’s smug face and couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you seriously bragging about Justin like he’s some kind of prize?” I chuckled. “Girl, you’ve seen nothing. I actually feel a little sorry for you. How about I introduce you to some real guys?” Stella smiled politely. “You don’t have to do that. We’re both women. I understand how you must feel…” “Don’t say you’re a woman. You give women a bad name.” I interrupted with a smile. “But I get it. You should probably read more books and work on your personality.” Stella’s phone suddenly rang. She answered right in front of me. “Hello? Blue Planet? Is it for a movie or a show? Alright, I’ll be there soon.” She hung up and turned to me. “Miss Harper, I have to go now for an audition. Feel free to order whatever you want. I’ll pick up the tab.” I smiled. “Thanks.” As soon as she left, I headed back to the office. “Dad, I need some money. I want to invest in a few projects.” “That’ll have to come from my personal account. Ask your mom to transfer it to you,” Dad said, adding, “It’s time you learned the ropes with investing.” “Got it. Thanks, Dad!” …… I quickly reached out to the production team for Blue Planet and offered to invest. Of course, they agreed. I put up $200 million and became the largest investor, meaning I had the final say in everything. I also heard that Stella was auditioning for the lead role. She had a good chance of getting it. But with one word from me, she’d be out of the running. Not yet, though. The fun’s just getting started. I didn’t plan on going after her originally, but she had to rub her little affair in my face. There’s no way I can just let that slide, right? Oh, and Justin? He won’t be getting off easy either. He should thank his “dream girl” for what’s coming. I waited until the final round of auditions before making my move. The audition was taking place at a hotel. Just as I was about to step into the elevator, someone yanked me back. “Didn’t you see our star here waiting to get on the elevator?” I looked up to see Stella stepping into the elevator, flashing me a proud, taunting smile. Just as the doors were about to close, she finally spoke. “Oh, Samantha, it’s you. Want to join us?” Her assistant, ever the brown-noser, scoffed, “Who does she think she is? She’s not fit to ride in the same elevator as you, Miss Green.” Stella smiled but didn’t say anything. The elevator doors closed. I chuckled and shook my head. At that moment, my phone rang. It was Logan. “You’re investing in a movie? Why didn’t you tell me? I own a film company. I would’ve given it to you.” I was a bit taken aback. “What’s gotten into you? Why are you being so generous?” “Samantha, you’re such an ingrate. When am I ever not generous to you? Come on, think about it!” I thought for a moment. Yeah, he wasn’t wrong. As much as Logan could be a pain, he’d always spoiled me with extravagant gifts on birthdays and holidays. I guess I was being unfair. “Alright, we’ll talk when I get home. I’m at the audition site right now, picking actors.” I hung up as the elevator finally arrived, and I stepped in.

The final audition for the lead actress came down to three candidates, with Stella Green being the first up. I texted the producer and had Stella moved to the last spot, so by the time I stepped out of the elevator, I caught her storming out of the audition room. “How could they push me to the end like this? If the director sees someone else first and makes up his mind, I’ll lose my chance! This role is mine, no question about it. Call Ms. Harper right now!” Stella barked at her assistant. Her little sycophantic assistant chimed in, “Don’t worry, Ms. Green. Those two can’t compare to you in acting. You’re saving the best for last! Once the director sees their terrible performances, he’ll be blown away by your talent and immediately give you the part!” I had to admit, this assistant was quite the flatterer. Stella’s acting was awful, yet here she was, brimming with confidence—and the assistant was half the reason for that. The other half came from the endless praise she received from the people around her. No wonder she was so blindly arrogant and self-important. As soon as Stella saw me, her assistant rushed over with all the bravado of someone emboldened by proximity to fame. “You again? Are you stalking Ms. Green? This is no place for you! Get lost, now!” I hadn’t even dealt with Stella yet, but this assistant had already piqued my interest. “Kid, you might want to watch your mouth. You’ll want to leave yourself a way out for the future. Ever heard of the saying ‘always leave a little room’?” The assistant rolled her eyes dramatically. “And who are you to talk about leaving room? Look, if you’re here to fangirl, at least do it properly. It doesn’t matter who you think you are, this is an audition, not a fan convention. Get out, now!” “Alright, I’ll go,” I said with a smirk, “but I have a feeling you’ll be begging me to come back soon enough.” With that, I turned and stepped into the elevator. I’d booked a room on the top floor, where I waited. The producer sent me clips of the auditions, and I reviewed the performances. One actress named Shannon Wood caught my eye. She had talent, and I already had my answer. Then it was Stella’s turn. But the producer told her, “That’s all for today’s audition. Everyone has left.” I was on a video call with the producer at the time, and I watched as Stella’s face fell, her expression barely masking her frustration. “But I’m ready. Weren’t the others allowed to audition even when people hadn’t arrived?” “The investors have already reviewed their auditions. Originally, they had high hopes for you and wanted to see your performance in person, but they were intercepted and sent away before they could arrive.” “Sent away? Who sent them away? Where are they? I’ll go to them right now,” Stella said, growing more anxious by the second. “They’re very upset. Even if you went now, it wouldn’t change anything. Honestly, I think your audition is done for,” the producer sighed. Stella panicked even more. “No! I’ll go and convince them with my performance. Just tell me where they are!” The producer gave her my room number. I hung up the call and waited. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. She’s here. The knocking continued as I slowly made my way to open the door. When Stella saw me, her jaw dropped. “Samantha… you again?” “I should be asking you that. What are you doing here?” I replied with a cold smile. Stella hesitated, looking at the room number to make sure she wasn’t mistaken. Her disbelief was palpable. “You… you’re in this room? Is there anyone else here?” I raised an eyebrow. “Nope. Just me.”

Even as clueless as Stella could be, she started to catch on at this point. She spun around and slapped her assistant hard across the face. The assistant stood there in shock, not knowing how to react. Meanwhile, Stella composed herself, turning back to me with a smile that barely hid her nerves. “If you’re still upset, Ms. Harper, feel free to take it out on me. I won’t stop you,” she offered coolly. The assistant, now fully aware of the situation, dropped to her knees. “Ms. Harper, I was wrong! I didn’t know my place. Please, I beg you, have mercy and don’t hold it against me!” I had given her a chance, but she didn’t take it. It wasn’t my fault anymore. Stella quickly added, “I’ll blacklist her from the industry. Is that enough?” Her attitude rubbed me the wrong way. It was as if she thought throwing her assistant under the bus would excuse her own behavior. She didn’t want to take any responsibility herself. “Ms. Harper, please, give me a chance. I’m begging you,” the assistant pleaded, tears streaming down her face. But I wasn’t moved. “Why are you begging me? Was I the one who taught you to look down on others? Beg yourself.” Then I turned to Stella. “Anything else to say? No? Well, I’m closing the door.” I was giving her one last chance to apologize. Whether or not she’d take it was up to her. Stella narrowed her eyes. “Samantha, are you sure you want to go up against me?” … Wow, since when did actresses get so gutsy? She must think her backers are untouchable. Fine. I slammed the door in her face. After Stella left, I got a call from Justin Hayes. “Samantha, can we meet?” he asked. I was curious. “Why? What’s up?” There was a brief pause before Justin spoke again. “Stella’s new project… you’re the biggest investor. I’m asking you not to make things difficult for her. I’m the one who hurt you. If you want to get back at someone, come after me.” His words made me laugh. “You really think I’d let you off the hook?” “…” “Stella’s issues have nothing to do with you. It’s her own behavior. Your little dream girl isn’t as pure as you think. I don’t care if others let her get away with it, but she messed with me. And I’m not letting her off easy.” I made myself perfectly clear. After another moment of silence, Justin asked, “Samantha, do you still love me?” “???” I must’ve misheard. “What did you just say?” “I know you still love me. Everything you’re doing is because you can’t let me go. That’s why you want to get revenge…” “You wanted to meet, right?” I cut him off. “Where and when?” Justin paused. “…” We arranged to meet at a quiet club. When I walked into the private room, Justin stood up. Without a word, I walked over and slapped him hard across the face. The sound echoed in the room. Justin looked stunned at first, then his expression twisted into anger. I smiled. “What’s the matter? Mad at me? Want to hit me? You’re only angry because you still care about me. You’re upset because you want revenge.” Justin clenched his jaw, his lips pressed into a tight line. I sat down. “Now, what was it you wanted to say?” “Stella told me you’ve been giving her a hard time. Like I said, if you’re upset, take it out on me,” he muttered, looking down at me. I raised an eyebrow. “I already told you, Justin, I’m not letting you off the hook. Don’t worry, I’ll get to you too.” His eyes darkened. “Are you sure you want to go against me?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Against you? No, Justin, I’m not going against you. I’m destroying you.” Justin’s expression hardened, his voice low. “Fine, Samantha. Just remember, you’ll regret it when the time comes.”

Justin and I left the club one after the other, but we were still caught by the paparazzi. The next day, it made the business section headlines. That evening, when I got back to Logan’s place, I found him sitting on the couch reading the newspaper. I walked over, and sure enough, there was a giant spread with photos of me and Justin. I glanced at Logan’s face—he looked pissed, like someone had just burned his dinner. I cleared my throat and sat next to him. “The reporters only caught us leaving. They didn’t get the shot of me slapping him.” Logan looked at me, intrigued. “You hit him?” I nodded. He still looked skeptical. “Really?” I raised my hand. “Want me to demonstrate?” Suddenly, Logan grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his lap, leaning down to kiss me. What the hell? I pushed him away. “What are you doing?” “You’re blushing,” Logan teased, clearly in a much better mood now. I rolled my eyes. “What are you talking about? I’m not blushing. I just… I’m not used to this.” I wasn’t used to being this close with Logan, even though we were married. It felt awkward, like we weren’t meant to be this… intimate. I was much more comfortable when we were verbally sparring. “Well, the more we kiss, the more you’ll get used to it,” Logan said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. … He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “So, tell me, what’s your plan?” “What plan?” Logan’s face darkened. “You’re not planning anything? You’ve spent years making my life difficult, but Justin cheats on you, and you’re not going to get back at him? Don’t tell me you still have feelings for him?” “Oh, that,” I said with a smile. “Do you have a suggestion? Go on, I’m listening.” Logan leaned in, whispering his idea in my ear. It tickled, and I had to resist the urge to pull away. But wow, his idea was truly… evil. I liked it. “Okay. I’ll go with that plan,” I agreed. “And how will you repay me?” he asked, his gaze growing more intense. I could feel the shift in the air, something building between us. I swallowed hard. The next second, Logan leaned in for another kiss. This time, I didn’t push him away. Just as Logan predicted, Justin poured a ton of resources into Stella Green’s career. He funded a movie for her, and once I got wind of it, I immediately invested more money into the project, becoming the largest shareholder. Then, I swapped her out as the lead actress. When Justin found out, he tried to up his investment by another $5 million. So, I doubled mine, adding $10 million more. I had plenty of cash to burn. Unable to compete with my financial firepower, Justin eventually pulled out. Then he invested in another project, and, despite his efforts to keep it a secret, I caught wind of it. I pulled my money from the last project and reinvested in his new one, becoming the majority shareholder again. This time, I switched out the lead actress early. Eventually, Justin couldn’t take it anymore and came to confront me. “Samantha, I told you to take it out on me! This has nothing to do with Stella!” “Alright, then. Let’s make this personal.” I was being quite accommodating, really—doing exactly as he asked. Justin invested in yet another project. After pumping a few hundred million into it, I backed out, forcing him to lose an additional $30 million. Now I was going after his company. I outbid him on projects left and right. The money he had left was being funneled into boosting Stella’s career, and his liquid assets were running dry. Within a few months, I had snatched up three or four major projects. Even my dad was praising me. Honestly, this underhanded strategy had been Logan’s idea from the start. And he was more than proud of himself, strutting around, asking, “Isn’t your husband smart?”

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Emily and her sister both fell into the water at the same time. Their parents chose to save Ashley, letting Emily drown. When she awoke again, she had been reborn into the body of Emily Johnson, the daughter of the Johnson family who had drowned. Originally, she thought their lives would never intersect again, but when college started, she saw Ashley once more. Ashley was boasting about how her parents favored her, abandoning her sister. Her sister’s existence was merely a backdrop for her. She was a strong swimmer, and her parents knew it. Given that, Emily realized she had nothing to cling to anymore. So this is what drowning feels like. The water slowly covered her mouth and nose, flooding her nostrils, stripping her of the right to breathe, while her consciousness remained clear, feeling the pain. The instinct to survive made her struggle incessantly. However, the lack of oxygen rendered all her efforts futile. In this extreme agony, her consciousness began to blur. In the final moments before death, she felt a strange sense of relief. It was finally over; she no longer had to suffer so much. The current blurred the last traces of her vision. Not far from her, on the shore, her parents and sister were embracing, crying and laughing as they savored the joy of surviving the ordeal. … She had died. Then she was alive again. After her consciousness returned from the darkness, she saw the excited faces of unfamiliar men and women around her. “Emily, you finally woke up! Don’t scare your mom!” “Are you feeling okay? Don’t do this again. Whatever it is, Mom will help you get through it.” A woman rushed over and hugged her, sobbing as she repeated these phrases into Emily’s ear. Emily was bewildered, letting the woman hold her without understanding what had happened. Who is Emily? Where is this? Hadn’t she died? Her gaze scanned the hospital room, landing on a man standing aside, restraining his emotions. She was certain she didn’t know these two people. They claimed to be her parents, but her real parents would never have been overjoyed or tearful at her rescue. An absurd thought began to form in her mind. The woman who claimed to be her mother finally let go of her. She looked a bit haggard; although her demeanor and attire were once gentle and refined, now she appeared somewhat disheveled. Emily looked at her, silently keeping her mouth closed. Fortunately, the two assumed she was silent due to physical reasons, so they didn’t respond intentionally. Following the principle of “say less to avoid mistakes,” Emily spent the day merely responding politely or smiling. During a break to use the restroom, she quickly glanced in the mirror. Sure enough, she had been reborn. But not into her own body; instead, she was in the body of a completely unfamiliar person. She raised her hand and touched this strange face, feeling uneasy and restless. That night, lying on the bed, she thought all night long about her current situation. The next day, upon meeting the Johnsons again, she decisively smiled and said, “Um… I think I might have amnesia.”

When the Johnsons heard that she had amnesia, they were quite surprised. They seemed unwilling to believe it, asking her several questions while she was completely baffled. They called in doctors, who after examining her could only say it was a side effect, and that it might pass with time. Emily cooperated obediently throughout the entire process. She followed the principle of “speak all she knows.” After all, she really didn’t know anything; even if they suspected something was wrong, they wouldn’t have guessed that the core of this body had been replaced. After various tests and probes, they finally believed that she truly had “amnesia.” The couple likely felt deep guilt toward their daughter. Although she didn’t know what exactly had happened to them, she could definitely sense their kindness and attempts at making amends. Thus, under the pretense of amnesia, she gradually got to know this family bit by bit. The Johnson family was quite wealthy and prestigious; they ran a Global Trade Corporation and were prominent figures in their circles. Fortunately, Emily’s previous family wasn’t too bad either; otherwise, suddenly stepping into such a social class might have made it years before she could fully adapt. After being discharged from the hospital, she immediately followed the Johnsons back to their home. During this time, they introduced her little by little, and she gradually became familiar with her new living environment. The girl she had replaced was named Emily Johnson, and she was still a high school student, the same age as her. Only after being discharged did Emily realize that the SATs were just around the corner. After discussing with the Johnsons, they decided not to return to school and instead do private tutoring at home until the SATs. She insisted on taking the SATs that day as well. In her original body, if she hadn’t drowned, she would have been at the age to take the SATs. Under the arrangement of the Johnsons, she picked up her textbooks again. Those unchangeable pieces of knowledge finally made her feel alive in this world once more. She threw all her energy into studying; this time, no one was obstructing her, and she could finally do what she wanted to do. After finishing the SATs, she successfully got into her desired university and major. Just when she thought everything was starting to improve and she would begin a completely new life, she met someone at university whom she never wanted to see again. Her own sister, Ashley Campbell. 3. Coincidentally, Emily and Ashley ended up as roommates. Under Emily’s insistence, she didn’t let her parents send any housekeepers to the dorm; making the bed and tidying up were all done by herself. Her parents were pleased to see how orderly she had arranged her dorm, their faces filled with satisfaction. The other two girls in the dorm also did everything themselves, seeming quite friendly. Emily quickly became close with them, chatting and laughing, and they agreed to go get a water card and stroll around campus together later. It was at this moment that Ashley arrived. She came in with bags and suitcases, filling the dorm hallway, and because she arrived late, only the bed near the door was left for her. “You, give me your bed.” Emily had already told her parents to leave, and now, while still tidying up her bed, Ashley singled her out. Seeing her acting bossy as usual, Emily gave a slight smile. Did she still think Emily was still Emma (Jiangya)? “No way.” She glanced at Ashley coolly, not missing the other two roommates’ inadvertently furrowed brows. Anyone who sees a new troublemaker in the dorm would not be too happy. “You won’t give it?” Ashley looked quite stunned; after all, she had always been attention-seeking in front of Emily from childhood, never having experienced rejection. But the sister she had bullied, Emma, was already dead in the water. Now she was in the body of Emily Johnson. Ashley didn’t argue with her; instead, she turned and threw herself into the arms of the Johnsons, sobbing softly, “Dad, Mom, I just want to live in that bed…” “It’s okay, Dad and Mom will decide for you.” The Johnsons hadn’t changed at all; whenever Ashley cried, they rushed to support her. At this moment, after comforting Ashley, Dad Johnson looked at Emily with a stern face, “Young lady, my daughter likes that bed, you need to give it to her quickly.” “Am I your daughter’s great-aunt? Why should I accommodate her?” Seeing Dad Johnson’s so-called entitlement, the suppressed anger inside Emily surged uncontrollably, “I like your daughter’s eyes so much, should I gouge them out for her?” “How can you talk like that!” Mom Johnson scolded her harshly, “My daughter has her eyes on your bed, that’s your blessing. Just give it to her quickly!” “Sorry, I don’t deserve such a blessing.” Emily gave a cold glance at the Johnsons, having no interest in saying even half a word. If she had known Ashley would come to this university, she would have no hesitation in changing schools to avoid the Johnsons. Being disgusted by them in her past life was enough; she didn’t want anything to do with them in this life. “You unreasonable brat!” Mom Johnson was an amplification of Ashley’s personality. Instead of reflecting on the Johnsons’ arrogance, she turned around to hurl insults at Emily. One of the roommates frowned and said, “First come, first served. How can you bully someone?” “What’s it to you?” Mom Johnson shot back with a sentence, making the roommates laugh out of frustration, while she arrogantly stared at Emily, “It’s just money, isn’t it? Tell me, how much will you accept?” “In that case, I won’t let go unless it’s eighteen million.” Seeing Mom Johnson wanting to scold her again, Emily preemptively said, “It’s your business; whether you want to change it or not.” “Mom, forget it.” At this moment, Ashley opened up sadly, “It’s just a bed, I won’t exchange it. It’s not worth that much.” Mom Johnson looked pitifully at Ashley, clutching her tightly as she angrily glared at Emily. “My daughter is the most understanding one.” Dad Johnson smiled with satisfaction, while Emily looked at the two roommates’ expressions, which were as if they had swallowed flies—she felt like vomiting. She couldn’t even bother dealing with that strange family; as long as they stayed out of her way. 4. Ashley settled into the bed by the door. All the tidying up was done by housekeepers, while Ashley bid farewell with reluctant words to the Johnsons. Emily watched the happy and harmonious scene of the three of them with a cold eye, feeling a pang of coldness in her heart. Although the Johnsons were her parents, they had never treated her so gently before. At the Johnsons’ home, the most she heard was that, right or wrong, she always had to accommodate Ashley, the sister. Sometimes, she even doubted whether she was truly their biological daughter. Since they chose to give birth to her, and she had never shown any disobedience, why did they treat her so harshly? Just because she was the older sister? The housekeepers had already arranged everything perfectly, and the Johnsons finally left. The two roommates hesitated and looked at Emily, eventually calling out to Ashley, “We’re going shopping. Do you want to come?” “No.” Ashley rolled her eyes, completely losing her usual polite and gentle demeanor in front of her parents. The two roommates didn’t seek any more trouble, called Emily along, and left together. Throughout their walk, the most discussed topic was their new roommate, Ashley. Emily listened quietly without commenting. Having interacted with Ashley for eighteen years, she knew Ashley’s two-faced nature all too well. She just didn’t expect that after she and her roommates went shopping and returned to the dorm, her bed was in total disarray as if it had been robbed, with organized things scattered everywhere. Meanwhile, the two roommates’ beds remained perfectly intact, showing no signs of tampering. Such obvious targeting made her laugh with anger. She violently pulled open Ashley’s bed curtain; Ashley was lying down playing with her phone. Upon meeting eyes, Ashley quickly sat up, “What are you doing!” “I also want to ask you why you messed with my stuff?” Emily tightly pinched her palms, afraid she might unintentionally slap Ashley in the face, “Ashley, don’t go too far!” “Do you have evidence?” Ashley stared at her provocatively for two seconds, then showed a pitiful expression, “Emily, I really haven’t done anything. We’ve just met, why are you being so harsh with me…” “There’s only you in the dorm.” Emily looked at her coldly as she acted, “If someone stole your stuff, they would all suffer. Can’t you spare me? Do I need to spell it out?” “But I really don’t know anything.” As Ashley continued, she started crying, “Emily, why are you bullying me?” “Emily, stop it.” The two roommates whispered to her, giving her glances. She knew what they wanted to say; without surveillance in the dorm, no matter what she said, Ashley could always deny it. But this situation was like lice on a bald head, who did it is clear as day. She bit her teeth, tossed her sleeves and turned to start packing her things, already thinking about installing security cameras in the dorm. But Ashley kept crying persistently, “Emily, why are you slandering me?” “I haven’t done anything, but you came running and started yelling at me. It’s about the roommates, how can you bully me like this?” “If you bully people like this, don’t you feel guilty?” “Wah, I want to go find a teacher!” Ashley’s crying became even more intense, making Emily’s temples throb. She couldn’t help but angrily shout, “Shut up!” Just like before, she was infuriating! But Ashley cried even harder, adding a huge accusation, “Emily, this is campus bullying. I can sue you!” “Then go sue me!” Emily was so annoyed; her stuff was crashing loudly, maybe she should consider changing dorms? If it continued like this, she wouldn’t be able to study at all; battling with Ashley would drain all her energy and passion. “Cut it out.” The roommates quickly tried to mediate, helping her pack her things. She angrily glanced at Ashley, seeing her with tear-filled eyes but with a provocative smile raised in her eyebrows. She squinted her eyes. Is this because they had a grudge over the bed issue? 5. Putting Ashley’s issues aside, she still longed for college life. New classmates were quite friendly. However, the campus gossip group was very powerful; everyone in the Economics and Management department knew each other’s backgrounds and who was the most attractive. This information quickly spread on the University Bulletin Board. Unfortunately, the Johnson family wasn’t as famous as the Jiang family, and Ashley’s looks were inferior to Emily Johnson’s. Emily became the beauty of the Economics and Management department, leaving Ashley ten miles behind. A few days after the semester started, a group of followers surrounded her; although she kept a cold face every day, those people still couldn’t be driven away. But privately, she had a good relationship with the two roommates; they were happy to hang out with her. The three of them went in and out together, with many people swirling around her. Every time they went somewhere, it was a lively group, whereas Ashley’s side was much quieter. Every time Ashley looked at her, her eyes shimmered with jealousy, and Emily couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge her. Nothing matched her, so why bother with the clown? “She’s just a peacock.” Everyone brought dinner back to the dorm to eat. Emily and her roommates were chatting when Ashley unexpectedly threw out a comment. After saying that, she glanced at Emily with an implied meaning. Emily made a ‘muah’ sound towards the newly installed security camera in the corner, “Don’t blame me for not warning you.” With such a troublemaker around, when she consulted her two roommates for opinions, they both raised their hands and legs in agreement, with no objections whatsoever. She couldn’t afford to provoke her, so she decided to find ways to defend against her. “Hmph, I’ll sue you all for invading my privacy without asking for my consent.” Ashley angrily jabbed at her food, her eyes extremely hostile as she looked at Emily. Emily didn’t bother to respond, instead turning to her roommates and saying, “Didn’t we just talk about your sister? Let’s continue our conversation.” “My sister is so strict; when I didn’t do my homework well as a kid, she would yell at me.” “My sister was the same. I took plenty of her hits.” Though the two roommates were complaining verbally, their faces were still filled with smiles, radiating a strong sense of sisterly affection that even a blind person could see. Emily was momentarily stunned. Her relationship with Ashley was poor; was it because she never hit her? But if she dared to be harsh to Ashley, there would be no need for Ashley to do anything. The biased Johnsons would beat her up severely. “Don’t your parents tell your sister to be accommodating to you?” Curiously, she asked, and the two roommates exchanged glances, then smiled, “No, whoever’s wrong gets punished. Although my sister hits me, whenever there’s something good or fun, it’s all given to me first. I love my sister the most.” “Me too.” The roommates smiled sweetly, but Emily felt bitter inside. All the good and fun things were given to Ashley first; why did Ashley need her care? After all, it was bias that created the fiercely combative Emma and the domineering yet pretentious Ashley. Emily and the Johnsons didn’t have that familial bond. 6. “Emily, are you an only child?” The roommates asked curiously. She glanced at Ashley, who had a face full of resentment, and nodded, “Yes, I don’t have any brothers or sisters.” There used to be, but with Emma’s death, it all disappeared. “Then from now on, we’ll be your sisters.” The roommates smiled kindly, scooping their favorite dishes into her bowl. She felt moved, but before she could respond, Ashley snorted coldly, “Don’t think about your backgrounds or anything. Ashley doesn’t care about you two.” The two roommates’ smiles stiffened, awkwardly shifting. They were both from ordinary families, having worked hard to get into this prestigious university, without any boastful family backgrounds. But Emily didn’t care about any of that. Scooping food into their bowls, she earnestly said, “I do.” The two roommates smiled gratefully at her. Ashley snickered nearby, “Emily, you’re just pretending. You just want to trick them into running errands for you.” “I don’t have sisters; I just like having many sisters for the fun.” She responded indifferently, but Ashley laughed, tears welling up in her eyes, “Do you think I don’t have a sister? Let me tell you, having a sister like mine is just to be bossed around!” “You!” The roommates were annoyed, while Emily simply nodded, “Then your sister is truly pitiful.” In Ashley’s heart, what was Emma? “Your sister having a sister like you is the worst curse in eight generations!” The two roommates, who had always been mild-mannered, couldn’t help but start cursing, “Sisters are supposed to support each other, share blessings, and bear hardships together. You’re the only one who thinks this relationship is so rotten!” “Your sister is so pitiful. You should cut ties with her as soon as possible.” “Hurry up, stop ruining her life!” They angrily cursed, and Emily felt her palms tighten in her heart. After so many years, someone was finally speaking up for her. The feeling of genuine care was indeed wonderful. “She’s already dead.” But Ashley giggled coyly, looking quite pleased, “She and I fell into the water at the same time, but my parents favored me, abandoned her to save me, so she drowned in the water.” Emily, “…” She just wanted to ask, can she curse this bastard to death? The two roommates were shocked, staring dumbly at Ashley, “Are you even human?” “Hmph, she was never likable. It was perfect that she died.” Ashley disdainfully poked at her food, her fork and knife sharp as blades, as if poking directly into her soul, making her feel excruciating pain. How could she say such joyful news of her death so easily? Is she even human! 7. “Wash my bowl, I’m ordering takeout.” Ashley naturally pointed at the roommates, but the roommates, who still held some fear of her, directly coldly refused with stern faces. No one paid her any more attention. But Ashley took her frustration out on Emily. Emily’s things started disappearing intermittently again or acquired strange smells, and every time she lost something, the security cameras would go black. Everyone knew who was doing it, but they couldn’t get evidence. The two roommates privately worried and suggested Emily change dorms, fearing she would end up like Emma. Little did they know, she was the very sister their parents had abandoned. And she didn’t want to retreat anymore. Ashley’s grades were as bad as ever; she had been taking classes for quite a while, her books still new as ever. But between her and the two roommates combined, none of them had as broad a social network as she did. She dressed up flamboyantly every day, either to meet her brother or to look for her little brother. Moreover, since that day the topic of sisters was discussed, rumors about her began to spread in the department. They said she had a bad reputation, using her looks to secretly hook up with boys. They said she was arrogant and liked to bully others. They even claimed her background was fake, that her family was actually poor, her parents worked odd jobs, and she bought luxury goods every day. For a time, the way classmates looked at her became odd and suspicious. The roommates tried to explain on her behalf, but ended up being cursed as her lackeys, being gossiped about wherever they went. They were so angry their heads seemed to be on fire, while Emily remained calm. She didn’t have much interaction in the department, and the only person she held a grudge against was Ashley. Ashley was trying to use these petty tricks to defame her, but Emily didn’t care. What kind of person was she, that Ashley could ruin her image with just a few words? However, photos began to appear on the University Bulletin Board. An anonymous account had somehow taken pictures of her chatting with Tyler Smith under a tree and posted them online. She thought Tyler would clear things up, but instead, Tyler posted a little essay condemning the account owner in the thread, without clarifying her relationship with him. Ashley’s glances at her became increasingly strange, and many girls began to casually or intentionally probe, asking if she was dating Tyler. For heaven’s sake, Emily and Tyler weren’t even close. However, every accidental encounter with Tyler was blown up on the campus forum, causing many girls to attack her en masse. She was overwhelmed. What’s more bizarre, when she was deep in the whirlwind of rumors, Ashley released so-called evidence of her bullying her. In photos, Ashley had tear-stained eyes, looking pitiful, and the posts included a segment of a recording, which was from the day school started, when Emily found her things being thrown around and got angry at Ashley. At that time, she had been in a fit of rage, and the phrase “You go sue me” had become the point of intense criticism. Moreover, the sound of her things crashing was also being portrayed as her violently beating Ashley. The roommates had already been cursed as accomplices and couldn’t show their faces anymore. Every day, girls were curious, banging on their dorm door to watch the drama, some consoling Ashley, saying Emily wouldn’t have a good retribution. Meanwhile, Ashley was pretending to be innocent and pitiful, coming up with different ways to annoy her and her roommates. Then she saw a picture of Tyler holding Ashley.

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After discovering that I had a Lucky Charm personality, my adoptive parents sent me back to my biological parents, the Fosters, who are the richest family around. That same day, I was shut out at the door. Rich Foster pointed at my nose, denying that I was his country girl daughter. Becky Foster wasn’t backing down either, claiming I was harboring unrealistic dreams. My brother, Luke, went even further, dragging along a fake heiress to stage a deep sibling bond. I laughed. Looks like the richest man is about to lose his title. The fortune teller said I was a Lucky Charm and also the daughter of the richest man in town. Well, the Lucky Charm part wasn’t wrong, but honestly, I didn’t think my parents had anything to do with Rich Foster. Still, we went ahead and got a paternity test. The results confirmed that I wasn’t biologically related to my parents. My parents—oh, no, my adoptive parents. They acted swiftly, going to the hospital where I was born to question the delivery doctor. After several turns and twists, we finally confirmed—I was indeed switched at birth. This news was as shocking to me as the U.S. men’s soccer team winning the World Cup. So, our family gathered seriously to discuss how to resolve the situation. My adoptive parents meant that, after all, those on the other side were my biological parents, and if I wanted to go back, they wouldn’t stop me. Personally, I didn’t really want to be separated from my adoptive parents. But I did want to meet my biological parents. After much deliberation, I took the hospital’s proof and prepared to meet them. True to their status as the richest family, Rich and Becky Foster lived in the famous Beverly Hills, Los Angeles. I found them and politely explained what had happened, showing them the hospital certificate. Rich and Becky glanced at it and then looked at me with full suspicion. “Miss, forging a hospital seal is illegal. You must be pretty bold to try to climb into a wealthy family like this.” I had anticipated that they wouldn’t easily believe me. So I suggested a prepared solution, maintaining my dignity, “I’m not lying to you. This is the genuine hospital certificate.” “If you still don’t trust me, we can get another paternity test right now. If it proves that I’m not your biological daughter, I can take all the consequences.” Rich and Becky exchanged a glance and finally agreed to take me for another paternity test. On the day the results came out, their two children were also there. Lisa Lawson, the girl suspected of being switched at birth, and my supposed brother, Luke Martin. The scientific results confirmed that I was indeed their child. Upon hearing the results, Lisa immediately covered her mouth and started crying. Rich and Becky immediately went to comfort her, looking heartbroken. Luke stepped forward, blocking her, and looked at me with hostility. “Even if you were switched at birth, so what? We only have my sister, Lisa, as our daughter. You should go back.” Luke looked down at me from the steps, his eyes full of disgust. I opened my mouth to respond, but Lisa had already shouted out with a tearful voice. “I’ve been Lawson’s daughter since I was little, always staying by our parents’ side all these years. How dare you try to replace everything I have with just a piece of paper!” Me: “……” Wait a minute, when did I say I wanted to replace her? “Sophie, whatever you want, I’ll give you, but please don’t take my family away.” She curled up in my mom’s arms, crying pitifully. “I didn’t…” “Sophie!” Rich suddenly interrupted me, “If you came here for money, just name the amount, and we’ll give it to you.” “But it’s impossible for you to accept me back. Our family will always have only Lisa as a daughter!” “I’m not here to ask for money.” I argued weakly. My mom sneered nearby. “You’re not here to ask for money. You’re here to be a wealthy heiress.” She held Lisa in her arms, looking coldly at me. “Sophie, you’re too cruel. You were switched at birth, but our family is doing just fine. Why come back here and disgust us?” I stared at her, unable to believe these words were coming from my biological mother’s mouth. “I’m telling you, Sophie, we will never abandon Lisa to accept you back. Don’t harbor unrealistic dreams!” My father, mother, and brother stood there protectively, shielding Lisa, their eyes towards me like I was an invading enemy. I stood silently across from them, calmly feeling their hostility towards me. After a long moment, I suddenly let out a soft laugh. My adoptive parents became even more guarded, but I took a step back, and politely bowed to them. “First of all, I’m very grateful that you gave me life. After all, without you, I wouldn’t exist.” “Secondly, I want to explain that I didn’t come here to become a wealthy heiress or anything like that. I simply wanted to see what my biological parents are like.” I tilted my eyes, the spark in them gradually turning cold. “Finally, thank you for showing your disdain without even listening to my explanation.” “I won’t recognize you anymore in the future. I hope you won’t regret it.” After I finished speaking, I thought about thanking them for giving me life with a bow, and then ruthlessly turned to leave. Only after I left the gated community did I stop. I turned around, looking towards the Foster mansion with a mocking smile. “Just you wait.” This richest man is about to lose his title soon.

Back home, my adoptive father was tinkering with jade stones, while my adoptive mother was cooking in the kitchen. The rich aroma of the food filled our not-so-spacious house, but compared to the Fosters’ luxurious mansion, it felt much more homely. “Sophie, you’re back.” My adoptive father put down his magnifying glass, smiling at me, “How do you feel?” My adoptive mother peeked out from the kitchen. I looked at them and suddenly knelt down before them, kowtowing three times loudly, “From now on, I’m your biological daughter. No one else can replace me.” Originally, I only wanted to meet the person who gave me life, but now, it was even better. I didn’t need any reason to meet them anymore. I could peacefully stay with my adoptive parents who raised me. The two elders looked puzzled, “Did we bully you?” “They already have a daughter on their side.” I briefly explained the situation with the Fosters, which made my adoptive parents angry, “We’re going to hold them accountable!” I stopped my adoptive parents. “Each family has their own lives; as long as everyone is okay, that’s all that matters.” The Fosters’ disdain for me was already ingrained deep in their bones. I didn’t want my adoptive parents to suffer from their self-righteous, condescending disdain. “Then you…” My adoptive mother, holding a spatula, had a face full of uncontainable pain and worry. I smiled and winked at her, “Unless you and Rich Foster don’t want me anymore, otherwise I’ll stay with you forever.” “You silly child.” My adoptive mother choked up, and my adoptive father nodded contentedly, his eyes also slightly moist. “We will always love you, and you don’t lack their love.” “Yeah, our Sullivan daughter was also spoiled growing up. If the Fosters don’t want her, we certainly cherish her.” They both vied to comfort me, afraid I was upset. But I was fine. I had never had any illusions about the Fosters, so being rejected by them felt just a bit laughable. “Sophie, look at this.” My adoptive father excitedly pulled a box out of the house, pushing it towards me, “Look, look.” Under his urging, I opened the box, inside was a jade appraisal certificate. I was quite confused. My adoptive father dealt with stones, so he had settled our family in the Colorado Mining District. Thanks to his good eye, our home wasn’t lavish, but it was prosperous and comfortable. However, the mining district’s environment wasn’t great, and I loved to follow my father tinkering with stones, so I was always dusty and earthy. Probably why the Fosters called me a country girl. But my father had plenty of such certificates; what was so different about this one? “You remember the big stone I asked you to buy the other day, what do you think is inside?” My father, seeing my confusion, began giving me hints. Thinking back, I remembered that stone was quite large and cost him $200. We had bought it by chance on the way back from the paternity test. With so many things happening, I had forgotten about it. “Emerald?” “Or maybe a diamond?” I guessed a few, and my father nodded and shook his head, confusing me even more. My adoptive mother laughed and scolded him, “You just like to tease Sophie on purpose. Hurry up and tell her already.” “It’s a high-quality ice jade, spring-tinted purple.” My father stopped teasing, his eyes crinkling as he smiled widely, “Sophie, you’re my lucky charm. If you hadn’t insisted on buying that stone, I wouldn’t have.” “There’s plenty of value inside.” Talking about the back, my father was already laughing like a child, “Honey, cook a few more dishes tonight, I want to drink some wine!” My adoptive mother chuckled, giving him a playful look, but still went back to the kitchen to get busy. I was stunned. Could it be that I was truly a Lucky Charm? “Sophie, Dad showing you this is to tell you that our family can also have money.” My father suddenly looked at me solemnly, with a hint of sadness and apology, “I originally thought of letting you live a more affluent life, but the Fosters bullied you. From now on, if other girls have it, our girl will too. We’re not any different from them.” “Dad…” My throat caught, tears welled up. I had never disliked my parents, nor thought our family was any worse than others. On the contrary, I felt very happy. Because my adoptive parents truly loved me. The Fosters, no matter how good they were, lacked familial affection. The people around me had been caring for me meticulously since I was born. Although not blood-related, the bond was deeply rooted in my veins and bones. Besides, I believed our family would definitely surpass the Fosters in the future. It definitely would.

I got into my dream university. During the summer break, I fully utilized my Lucky Charm personality, spending every day with my dad at the mining site, touching every stone I could. Hard work paid off. With my Lucky Charm and my father’s keen eye, none of the stones we sold were a loss. In just one summer, we had already made a fortune. It also attracted a lot of attention. I told my father to take the credit, saying the stones were all his discoveries. He panicked, waving his hands, saying that since I was going to university, he couldn’t find good stones anymore and would be criticized to death. I thought it made sense, letting him be vague was fine, and if not, push it onto me. I am a Lucky Charm, not afraid of determined people messing with me. And I had already decided. I would major in Gemstone Appraisal and Design. With a degree in hand, the Lucky Charm personality wouldn’t be too obvious. When dropping me off at school, my parents had tears in their eyes, looking reluctant to let me go. I hugged them, then smiled at my dad, “When I’m on break, let’s go touch stones together again.” “Okay, okay.” My dad’s eyes were red, and he quickly turned away to wipe his face. My mom choked up, “If you need money, just say so, understand?” “Mom, we have plenty of money now.” The mining site was in the southern region, while I was heading north to Harvard, too far from them. My mom wished she could just hand me all the family’s money. My mom didn’t say anything else, hugged me tightly for a long time, then let go, “We’re watching you go in.” I knew they were worried, so I forced a smile, waved, and dragged my suitcase into the campus. Halfway, I looked back to see them still standing there. I waved, and they smiled and waved back. But both of us couldn’t hold back our tears. Afraid they would worry if they saw me crying, I deliberately sped up my steps, hid behind a tree after a turn, watched them stand outside the main gate for a long time before leaving, and only then dragged my suitcase away. This place was too far from home. No spring-tinted purple, no high-quality ice jade, no year-round warmth, and no loving family. But parting is for a better reunion. After I finish my studies, I will definitely make my parents prosperous and successful!

But I didn’t expect to run into Lisa Lawson in the dormitory. She had already claimed the best bed early on, with cherry-pink curtains and sheets that gave off a celestial vibe. The Fosters were helping her with everything. When she caught sight of me, the Fosters looked surprised, and then their eyes filled with disgust. I was annoyed. I knew how narrow-minded enemies could be, but there was no need for me and Lisa Lawson to cross paths like this. “You really are like a ghost that won’t leave.” Lisa’s mother mocked, “I’ve told you before, the Fosters only recognize Lisa. What’s the point of you following her?” “You want money, right? Thirty thousand is enough? I’ll give it to you.” Richie Foster also spoke up. He frowned as he examined me, then looked away. Disgust was written all over his face. Luke sneered, “Dad, look at how country girl she looks, thirty thousand won’t be enough for her. At least thirty-eight thousand.” Before the sound faded, Lisa covered her mouth and let out a low laugh. I knew Luke was mocking me. Looking at the loving Foster family, I felt a chill in my eyes, “Do I even know you guys?” “Bringing drama wherever you go, who are you trying to annoy?” “Move aside!” I shoved Lisa out of the way, went to her bed, and sneered, “Good dog, don’t block the way, don’t get it?” Since they wanted to compete with me, why should I be afraid of her? “Dad, Mom…” Lisa stopped laughing and started crying and showing her distress. Lisa’s mother quickly grabbed some tissues to wipe her tears and comfort her gently, while Richie Foster glared at me with a stern face, yelling, “Sophie, apologize to Lisa right now!” I laughed at him. Looking coldly at him, “Who are you?” Richie’s face stiffened, and I sneered, “What do you have to do with me, being a stranger?” The Fosters panicked. Lisa’s mother, with a hateful look as if she wanted to tear me apart, “We gave you life, and you dare to be so rebellious!” “I’m sorry, I’m not admitting it!” I glanced at Lisa, who was hiding pitifully in her mother’s arms, “The person who gave you life is hiding in your arms acting pitifully. Don’t try to use your connections to seek a relationship with us, then go back and say I wanted to take advantage of your Foster family.” Lisa’s mother had a fierce look, probably wanting to rip me apart. Realizing this, Richie Foster was furious, “Enough! Really, enough is enough!” He spun around twice on the spot, then glared at me with a harsh expression, as if he could refuse to recognize me, but I had to obey his commands, “If you don’t apologize to Lisa, don’t blame me for teaching you a lesson!” “Why, do you want to hit me?” I stepped back two steps cautiously, and as I said, Luke grabbed his sleeves and rushed at me, “What’s the big deal about hitting you!” “Smack!” The crisp sound like popping a bubble echoed through the small space. The Fosters were stunned. I shook my hand, smiling sarcastically, looking at the red bruises on Luke’s face, “I’ve been handling stones for years, how strong are these hands?” I’m not a delicate girl; seeing someone try to hit me would just scare me into crying on the spot. If they dare to hit me, they should first see if they can beat me. Luke went mad and tried to pounce on me again, but I kicked him in the stomach, sending him back into Rich’s arms. “If you make another move, I’ll call someone.” I coldly glanced at the Fosters, pretending to raise my phone to call the police, but the Fosters reluctantly backed down. However, their resentful looks lingered like shadows. While I was packing my things, if their eyes had any substance, they could have hurt me deeply. “Mom, I’m scared…” Lisa hid in her mother’s arms, sniffling pitifully, tears like pear blossoms in the rain. Seeing her, I felt a pang of sympathy, and Lisa’s mother gently comforted her. Richie and Luke also chimed in to support. I rolled my eyes and suddenly felt incredibly glad that my adoptive parents hadn’t sent me to the dormitory. Otherwise, seeing the Fosters would have made me uncomfortable. After setting up my bed, the Fosters decided to rent a place near the school to live and accompany Lisa. The reason was simple: they feared I would harm Lisa. I just laughed at their plan. With our family’s joint effort, our assets had already started to double. Who would care about the Fosters’ meager holdings?

The Fosters had all rented places outside the campus, and I thought Lisa would move out too, but she stayed behind. However, I didn’t bother to pay her any attention. I came to Harvard for a better future and had no time to argue with her. But evidently, Lisa didn’t think so. I shared a room with her; we could lock our curtains and glare at each other. She had changed her demeanor in front of the Fosters, now being provocative and mocking towards me. But her words were limited to a few phrases, like saying I was country-bred and questioning why I was wearing such clothes to a prestigious university. I really didn’t understand her twisted morals. What does intelligence have to do with clothing? She dressed beautifully, flaunting her style every day, but every time a teacher picked her to scold someone, she was the one being reprimanded. Moreover, flaunting wealth in Harvard wasn’t her forte. “The fall sports meet is being organized. Please sign up enthusiastically and showcase our class’s spirit.” Time flew by, and it had been a while since I entered the university. On stage, the teacher passionately talked about the sports meet plans. I was eager to participate; I was good at sprints, hurdles, high jump, long jump, and even threw the shot put a bit. I also knew a bit about basketball. I had always been the star participant in sports meets since I was young. “Teacher, I nominate Sophie Sullivan.” But I hadn’t even signed up myself, and the meddlesome Lisa had already jumped in first. With her pretty face and innocent expression, she seemed harmless, saying, “She grew up handling stones, so her physical strength must be excellent.” Before she finished, the group of little followers who always played with Lisa burst out laughing, not hiding their mockery. The teacher frowned. I looked around the class; most of the students had stern, cold expressions, clearly not following Lisa’s lead. It seemed that the students in this prestigious university had different standards and mindsets. So I calmly said, “Teacher, I do want to sign up for the sports meet, but I really don’t like Lisa Lawson’s personal conduct.” With a sarcastic tone, as if I couldn’t even speak up against her. The teacher looked at me in surprise. I stood up confidently and calmly said, “As the old saying goes, heroes are not judged by their origins. Does she care if I handle stones or pick up trash? The fact that I’m sitting here shows that I have extraordinary talent.” “On the contrary, Lisa often fails her quizzes, making people wonder if her wealthy lifestyle has turned her into a single-celled organism.” “Moreover, she openly mocks me. I demand that she apologize.” I have a sharp tongue. Even though Lisa was treated generously by my biological parents and was materially wealthier than me from a young age, I wasn’t lacking in love. My parents loved me, and I firmly loved them in return. With equal spiritual treatment, I asked her, what makes Lisa Lawson more noble than me, Sophie Sullivan? It’s her shallow and despicable mindset. I just wanted to seek justice for myself, vent my anger, but the teachers and classmates all gave me enthusiastic applause. “Sophie Sullivan’s spiritual world is rich and strong. I agree with her words.” The teacher gave me an approving look and gestured for me to sit down. Then, turning sternly towards Lisa, the teacher said, “I thought all of you students here understood that education is meant to cultivate virtue, but clearly, some of you only read books superficially.” “High academic achievements do not equate to high quality, nor do they represent personal cultivation. They only mean you possess knowledge.” “Your words and actions will quietly tell everyone what kind of person you are.” “So, Lisa Lawson, you must apologize to Sophie Sullivan.” The teacher spoke sternly, and the classmates all looked towards Lisa. In an instant, Lisa’s pretty face turned a bright red with embarrassment. She stubbornly glared at me but couldn’t withstand the teacher’s authority. Eventually, she reluctantly opened her mouth, “Sophie, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, I forgive you.” I smiled, giving her a cold glance before looking away. To me, she was just like a fleeting cloud.

I signed up for the sports events I was good at and joined the basketball club. The teacher said there weren’t many girls signing up and hoped I could help attract more participants. I fully embraced the role, contributing wherever needed. After all, the sports meet was still a while away, so I could start training now. The club members were very enthusiastic, and I quickly became familiar with those sisters. The women’s basketball team often played friendly matches with the men’s team. I brought out my sports star spirit and soon became a main player on the women’s team. A beautiful three-pointer effortlessly turned the game around. The team sisters hugged me, screaming and cheering. I casually accepted their hugs and provocatively winked at the men’s team, “Again!” There were quite a few spectators; the laughter and cheering filled the gymnasium. I didn’t even notice the shiny eyes watching me. But troubles soon followed. There were so many people sending me flowers, water, and love letters, making me extremely annoyed. Lisa’s look at me became increasingly unsettling, as if I had stolen her spotlight, always appearing gloomy. I didn’t bother to pay her any attention. However, when I refused a certain senior’s flower and was about to return to the dormitory, Lisa was waiting for me under the shadow of a nearby tree, shouting, “Sophie, come here, I have something to tell you.” “Is it you who has something to say to me? Don’t you want to come here yourself?” At night, in the dark, she stood again in the tree shadow. I knew with my intuition that bad things were coming. Lisa’s eyes sparkled in the darkness, filled with anger. I smirked and turned my head to walk away. Back in the dormitory, my two roommates were still at the library. I planned to take a shower and then head to the library to study, but Lisa stormed in angrily, “Sophie, you’re still acting so crazy, aren’t you!” “If your brain is sick, hurry up and go to the hospital.” I was genuinely annoyed with Lisa for constantly staring at me like a persistent ghost, more annoying than those who were sending me things. In high school, I studied hard just to get into this prestigious university. Now that I was finally here, I naturally wanted to enjoy my college life without any time to argue with her. But she clearly didn’t think so. When I grabbed my clothes to take a shower, she screamed like a madwoman, “You don’t even consider your social status! How dare you get the attention of Senior Song!” “So what if you can play basketball? You’re sweaty every day, you don’t even look like a woman!” “Don’t think that because you’re a true heiress, you can suppress me. No matter how much you fuss, the heiress from the richest family is still me, Lisa Lawson!” “If you keep harassing Senior Song, I’ll show you my power!” Tsk. I looked at the crazed Lisa like she was mentally disabled, “Who is Senior Song?” I hadn’t paid attention to anyone named Song at all. Seeing the anger burning in her eyes, as if she wanted to eat me alive, I just thought she was sick, and very sick. I sneered, “Lisa, did you know that the fingerprints you slapped yourself with are different from the ones you slapped me with? Are you stupid?” Lisa didn’t believe it, and I was too lazy to explain further, “If you want to report me, go ahead. Don’t interfere with my rest.” Talking to idiots for so long, I feared their low intelligence might infect me. I grabbed my clothes and went into the bathroom. When I came out to grab some body wash, I saw her waving her palms as if gesturing, and when she met my eyes, her face instantly turned fierce again. I just gave her a big, unimpressed eye roll. These people are dangerous and need to be guarded against. After showering, I went to the library to peacefully study for several hours. When I returned, it was already late at night. Lisa was huddled on her bed, gaming online with someone, not mentioning anything about wanting to report me to the teacher. My two roommates and I exchanged glances, all seeing the suspicion in each other’s eyes. With such behavior, how did she get into this prestigious university?

Just as I was focused on training, my parents showed up at school. Dad pulled up in a new car with a fancy gold emblem, and then took me shopping at the mall, buying everything in sight. He said it was for my birthday, so I should be happy. I was happy. “Dad, did you make another great deal on gemstones?” “Absolutely. Top-quality jade.” Dad gave me a wink. “It’s all good business. Sophie, buy whatever you want.” Oh? I looked at Dad and gave him a knowing smile, the kind only we understood. So, even though I’m in college now, Dad’s still benefiting from that lucky streak at home? “The fortune teller was right, you’re our lucky charm.” Mom joined in, pulling me to shop more with a huge smile. “You’re the star of this family. Don’t worry about the money!” “You guys are the real stars.” Even though they said it was for me, I ended up picking out a lot of nice things for them instead. Without them, I wouldn’t be who I am today. In the end, I didn’t buy much for myself, but I got a lot for them. Mom looked at me with concern. “Why didn’t you get more?” “There’s plenty of clothes at school, and I don’t really like these expensive and impractical things. They just get in the way when I’m helping Dad move stones.” All that flashy stuff is only useful for showing off. Mom laughed and sighed. “You’re just like your dad, always thinking about those stones.” “Sophie’s just perfect like this.” Dad defended me, but still slipped a credit card into my hand. “There’s plenty of money in here. Buy whatever you want. You’re at the age where girls like to dress up, so don’t be stingy with yourself.” “Dad, Mom, I got it.” I knew they were worried about me being far away, afraid I wouldn’t have enough to eat or wear, so they made the long trip here for my birthday. After spending two days with me, they reluctantly dropped me off at the school gate and left. I dragged all the shopping bags they got me back to my dorm room. Just as I was about to give my roommates their gifts, Lisa stormed in, furious. The dorm supervisor followed her in. “Sophie, Lisa’s bracelet is missing, and you’re the suspect.”

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On the day of the proposal, I finally met my boyfriend’s brother. At that moment, my entire body froze, muscles numb, and a loud ringing filled my ears. I knew it—my PTSD was acting up again. He acted like a perfect gentleman, but in my mind, all I could see was his other face—his terrifying face. He had once crouched in front of me, his cold gaze piercing as he sneered, “You’re just a cheap slut, Rose. Who are you trying to fool?” And with that, he’d pressed a lit cigarette into my hand, the sizzle of it burning into my skin. “Hey, sis. I’m Ethan, David’s brother,” Ethan Landon’s voice cut through the noisy atmosphere, hitting me with precise clarity. A violent shiver ran down my spine, my whole body convulsing. “Rose… Rose…” David noticed my distress immediately, gripping my cold, pale hand tightly. Without missing a beat, he covered for me, “She’s a bit shy around strangers. Why don’t you sit down for now? Don’t startle her.” Ethan looked at me with slight surprise. I had changed my name, changed my appearance. It seemed like he didn’t recognize me. He just smiled and said, “Alright. I haven’t been back in years. I’ll go catch up with some old friends.” As soon as Ethan walked away, David’s face fell. He gently wrapped his coat around me and pulled me into a quiet corner, holding me close, full of concern. “Rose, what happened? Why are you having an attack now? I’m sorry, was it the crowd? Did it overwhelm you?” His voice was filled with guilt. David knew about my PTSD. I had a few episodes in front of him when we first got together, and it scared him senseless. But over the past three years, he’d been incredibly good to me—kind and gentle—helping me heal my trauma, little by little. I hadn’t had an episode in a long time, and even the doctors thought I had a chance at recovery. But after seeing Ethan again, I knew. I knew I wasn’t getting better. I’d never get better. Not in this lifetime.

“David…” I finally managed to regain some sense of calm. Still trapped in his arms, too stiff to push him away, I could only press my weak fists against his chest. “Sorry, did I scare your brother?” David kissed my forehead gently, soothing me in his soft voice, “It’s fine. I know you don’t like strangers. But after we’re married, Ethan will be family, just like me. He’ll protect you too.” Protect me? Family? I almost laughed out loud at his words. If only he knew that the reason for my lifelong illness—the very source of my trauma—was his dear brother. Would he still be able to say so casually that we’d all be family? That Ethan would protect me? My eyes felt dry, but I couldn’t cry. I’d cried all my tears back in high school when Ethan Landon was tormenting me. That’s when I learned tears are the most useless thing in the world. “Rose, I just remembered—didn’t Ethan go to the same high school as you? Did you ever hear any stories about the trouble he got into?” David chuckled, his voice light, as if trying to calm me down. “He was just a dumb kid back then, causing trouble at school. But don’t worry, he’s grown a lot over the years. He’s not that reckless boy anymore.” “And, you know, he cares about family… just like I do.” Yeah, I knew what David was saying, but it wasn’t the whole truth. No one knew better than me—Ethan Landon was rotten to the core. How bad, you ask? Bad enough to see me for the first time and immediately decide, along with his rich-kid friends, that I was his new plaything.

Why? I thought about it. Probably because I didn’t look the other way when he and his gang of rich bullies were harassing everyone at Lincoln High School. Ethan was the ringleader back then. They didn’t care about right or wrong. They just enjoyed tormenting people for fun. Once, I saw him forcing my deskmate to kneel and lick his shoes while his friends laughed. I couldn’t take it anymore and stormed over to confront him. That’s when I caught his eye, standing out from the silent crowd. I still remember the gasps from the students around us, and the mocking look on Ethan’s face as he pushed my bangs back, sneering at me. “What, trying to stand up for your little boyfriend?” The way I shielded my deskmate with my body amused him. From that moment on, Ethan decided I was his next conquest. Ethan and his gang of trust fund kids started hovering around me more and more. They bullied my poor deskmate and tried to sweet-talk me at every opportunity, making my life increasingly unbearable. “Rose, what’s so great about that country boy? All he has is good grades.” “Why don’t you be with me instead?” At first, he was all talk. But one day, in the school cafeteria, he slid his hand onto my leg. That’s when I finally snapped. I screamed at him, right in front of everyone, “Jacob’s smart, good-looking, and a hundred times better than you!” “Ethan Landon, I hate you! Leave me alone and stay away from me!” Ethan, who had been adored and spoiled his whole life, was humiliated in front of the entire cafeteria. As soon as I finished shouting, I realized how dangerous it was, especially when I saw the murderous look on his face. He let out a sinister laugh, and I knew his patience was gone. Then, a bowl of scalding soup was dumped over my head. The hot liquid ran down my hair, burning my skin, and I couldn’t even open my eyes. And that was just the beginning. I had touched Ethan’s sore spot, and from that day on, he made it his mission to make my life a living hell. He had his lackeys take inappropriate pictures of me from humiliating angles and posted them on the school blog. Then, he spread vicious rumors, calling me a manipulative slut who’d sleep with anyone. Soon enough, I became the laughingstock of the school, the subject of endless gossip. The girls looked at me with mocking eyes, some full of jealousy, while the boys’ stares were downright filthy. Walking down the hall, I couldn’t escape the constant whispers: “Hey, that’s Rose Evans. Gotta admit, she’s pretty hot…” “You might have a shot with her. I heard she’s not that picky.” “Ugh, what a bitch.”

Ethan got his lackeys to take compromising photos of me and post them all over the school forum. He spread lies about me, calling me a slut, saying I’d sleep with anyone. In no time, I became a laughingstock, the subject of endless gossip. The girls gave me dirty looks, full of mockery and jealousy. The boys? They looked at me like I was a piece of meat. I couldn’t walk down the hall without hearing: “That’s Rose, right? Gotta admit, she’s hot…” “Maybe you have a shot. I heard she’s not picky.” “Ugh, what a slut.” It didn’t stop there. I was cornered in alleys by groups of girls, pushed around, cursed at, and beaten. Every time, after the crowd dispersed, Ethan and his friends would show up to watch me struggle. “How’s it going, Rose? Regretting your choices yet? If you kneel and apologize, maybe I’ll reconsider.” He stood over me, looking down with that same disgusting grin. I was scared—terrified, even—but I had never been taught to submit to evil. So I bit my lip and stayed silent. His smile faded. Then, he took his cigarette and pressed it hard into the back of my hand. “You think you’re so pure, don’t you? You’re nothing but a dirty slut, Rose.” I could hear the sizzle of my skin burning, the smell of charred flesh filling the air. That was the mark Ethan left on me—his trophy, my shame. The scar remained, a pink, jagged reminder of what he did. Years later, I tried to cover it up with a tattoo—a pink whale. But the ink couldn’t erase my past, just like it couldn’t fool David when he saw the scar beneath. When David asked about it, I brushed it off, saying it was just a burn. He knew I had stories I wasn’t telling, but he never pushed me for answers. He just held me close, whispering, “I wish I had met you sooner. Then I could’ve protected you, before you had to go through all of this…” I almost cried when he said that. David thought I was touched, and he kissed me gently. But only I knew the truth: I had met David a long time ago. And every scar on my body—he and his brother were the ones who gave them to me.

That day, after Ethan left, I lay in the alley, feeling like a dying fish washed ashore. The alley was right next to the school. Students walked by, but they all hurried away, not daring to help me. My vision blurred from the pain, and I didn’t know how long it had been until a pair of worn-out sneakers appeared in front of me. Then, someone draped a big, familiar hoodie over me, the scent of laundry detergent filling my senses. It was Jacob. He didn’t have much money, but he went to the pharmacy, bought some medicine, and brought me back to the classroom. Without a word, Jacob cleaned the burn on my hand. His eyes were red, and finally, in a hoarse voice, he said, “Rose, I’m sorry…” That was only the second time Jacob had spoken to me since he transferred to Lincoln High.

From the moment Ethan had started targeting me, I noticed Jacob distancing himself. I knew he didn’t want to drag me into his mess, but in the end, I couldn’t escape Ethan’s torment. When the disinfectant stung my wound, I couldn’t hold back my tears. I looked at Jacob and said, “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The ones at fault weren’t him—or me. It was those who had started this whole mess and the bystanders who did nothing to stop it. “Rose, why aren’t you saying anything? Are you feeling unwell?” David’s voice broke through my thoughts. His grip on my hand tightened, and for once, I heard a trace of uncertainty. He remembered how we used to talk about bullying cases, how deeply I despised it. He knew about Ethan’s notorious reputation at Lincoln High, how it had caused such a scandal that even the police got involved. The Landon family had covered it up, but the school had never quite forgotten. Now I understood why David had waited until today to introduce me to Ethan. He had been scared—scared that I would be disappointed in him, in the Landon family, because of the sins of the past. So I gave him no answer, no relief. I just closed my eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry, David. I’m tired. Can I go home now?” It was supposed to be the day he proposed to me. But seeing my state, David relented, nodding, “Okay, Rose. I’ll take you home.” On the way back, David tried to make small talk, but I kept my lips sealed, not offering him a single word. When we reached my apartment and he followed me to the door, assuming he’d come in like usual, I stopped him. “David, maybe you should go spend time with your brother. He just got back.” David froze, his face showing clear confusion. We had been living together for a long time now, and he hadn’t expected me to shut him out on such an important day. My sudden coldness was impossible to ignore. When I went to close the door, he slammed his hand against it, hard enough to make it shake. The warmth in his eyes was replaced by panic. “Rose, what’s going on? If it was wrong for me to invite so many people today, I’m sorry. We can talk about it. Didn’t we agree to be honest with each other, no matter what?” He said a lot, but I remained cold and distant. Finally, he lost his composure. “Is this about Ethan?” Every time I heard that name, it felt like I was suffocating. I turned pale, but I answered stiffly, “Yes, David. I knew you had a brother, but I didn’t know he was Ethan.” “Do you know why I became a lawyer? Why I hate bullying so much?” One question after another, my words hit David like punches. I could see the shock and struggle in his eyes, the emotions swirling inside him. “You know your brother got into a lot of trouble back then. But what if I told you I was one of the people he bullied?” David froze, like a machine malfunctioning. Disbelief and pain filled his expression. “Rose… how? He never—he never mentioned you…” I let out a bitter laugh. Ethan and his friends were so cruel back then, they didn’t even keep track of the people they tormented. “You think Ethan remembers every person he’s hurt?” My words left David speechless.

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My husband, Ryan Thompson, is a well-known celebrity hairstylist in the industry. His clients? All wealthy, high-society women. Late at night, he comes home, strips off his clothes, and falls straight into bed. But tonight, I found a receipt in his jacket pocket. Only one item was listed—condoms. It was purchased at 8:16 p.m. tonight. I froze. Ryan and I hadn’t been intimate in months. So who was he planning to use them with? My name is Melissa Thompson, 26 years old. After graduating, I started working at a bank, mostly dealing with investments and financial planning. My parents are both teachers, and they were always strict with me growing up. They never imagined I’d marry someone from a completely different background than mine. Ryan was the kind of guy any woman would fall for at first glance—handsome, charming, with an easy smile. At the time, he worked as a stylist at a high-end salon near my office. I would often stop by for a haircut after work. Over time, we got to know each other. Ryan’s good looks and sharp sense of humor stood out. He was mature and composed, totally different from the loud, immature guys I knew in college. I fell for him, and soon we started dating. When my father found out, he was furious. He yelled at me for hours. I cried so hard, and my mother, seeing how much pain I was in, finally stepped in to mediate between us. In the end, my father gave in reluctantly. I thought being with the man I loved would be like living in a fairytale, but after we got married, the stress started to pile up. I couldn’t sleep, had nightmares, my hair started falling out, and I looked more and more exhausted every day. Every time I looked in the mirror, it was like staring at a ghost. I’d glance over at Ryan, sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone, his toned abs peeking out from under his shirt. Next to him, I felt worse than ever. My parents were heartbroken when they saw how I looked. After our wedding, they spent most of their savings to buy us a house in a good school district. They even gave Ryan money to help him attend a hairdressing course. The training paid off. Ryan quickly became the star of the salon, eventually being promoted to Lead Stylist. But once he became Lead Stylist, he only got busier. He was out early, back late, and I rarely saw him anymore. When he did come home late, he reeked of alcohol and perfume, too tired to even take off his clothes before passing out in bed. That night was no different. Ryan came home in the middle of the night, collapsed onto the bed without taking off his jacket, and was snoring almost immediately. I felt bad for him, so I reached out to take off his jacket. As I shook it loose, a few strands of long, red, curly hair fell to the floor. I didn’t think much of it at the time—after all, Ryan worked as a stylist and was always covered in different women’s hair. I was used to it by now. I picked up the strands and tossed them in the trash, then hung his jacket over a chair. But then something fell out of his pocket—a crumpled piece of paper. Curious, I unfolded it and saw it was a receipt from the supermarket. Only one item was listed: condoms. It was purchased at 8:16 p.m. that evening. I froze. Ryan and I hadn’t been intimate in ages, so who were the condoms for? Once the thought crossed my mind, it started to take root. I grabbed his jacket and began searching through it more carefully. Finally, I spotted a deep red lipstick stain on the collar. Ryan had always told me how many women were around him at work—flirty receptionists, young clients, and charming female stylists. But his most frequent clients? Wealthy, married women.

From the day we got married, I chose to trust him. I never questioned his work or what he did. But seeing that lipstick stain and the condoms… I couldn’t help it. My mind was racing, spinning out of control. It started affecting my work, so I took a day off and headed straight for Westside Hair Salon. I’d never visited Ryan at work since we got married, and he never invited me to any of his social events. Over time, I realized I didn’t know any of his friends or coworkers. After some asking around, I found the salon at Westfield Century City, taking up a large space on the fifth floor with clear glass walls. As soon as I stepped off the elevator, I saw the huge “Westside Hair Salon” sign. Through the glass doors, I could see a girl with short green hair leaning over the front desk, laughing with Ryan. Ryan had a mischievous grin on his face as he ran his fingers through her hair, making her smile even wider. His eyes trailed over her body, and then he playfully pinched her waist. The girl didn’t pull away. In fact, she leaned into his hand, pressing closer. The chemistry between them was unmistakable. I was frozen in place. Is this what my husband does at work? It felt like my legs were filled with lead. I couldn’t move. Ryan whispered something in the girl’s ear, then turned and walked deeper into the salon. I quickly walked inside, my eyes following him as he disappeared into the VIP suite. The girl at the front desk glanced at me, her face twisting in disdain. “Are you here for a cut or color? Do you have a regular stylist?” I shook my head. “No, just find me whoever’s available.” She called out loudly, “Kevin! A client’s here. Wash her hair.” A slim guy with dyed blonde hair came out from the back. His features were delicate, almost feminine. He smiled at me. “Hey, beautiful. Come with me.” As I followed him, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a mess, and hearing him call me “beautiful” felt like a cruel joke. How could anyone in this business lie so easily? Kevin quickly washed my hair and seated me in a chair tucked away in a corner. He placed a white towel over my face and asked, “How do you want your hair cut?” “Whatever,” I muttered. He let my hair down and started cutting, making small talk as he worked. I took the opportunity to get some information. “How’d you hear about us?” he asked. “A friend recommended this place. She’s one of Ryan’s clients. But I didn’t see him out front,” I said, trying to sound casual. Kevin scoffed, clearly irritated. “Ryan? Oh, he’s busy. You need this,” he rubbed his fingers together, implying money. “Oh?” I feigned curiosity. “How much are we talking?” Kevin studied my face for a moment before lowering his voice and leaning in. “Look, you seem nice. You don’t want to get involved in this.”

It was clear Kevin knew a lot. I looked at his face in the mirror and said, “Tell me what you know about Ryan, and I’ll sign up for a VIP membership right here.” Kevin’s eyes lit up, and he grinned. “You got a thing for Ryan too? Trust me, you’re not the only one. His clients are all over him. They drive the nicest cars.” He kept talking as he cut my hair, telling me everything. Apparently, Ryan only handled VIP clients, and to get into the VIP suite, you had to have spent over $100,000 at the salon. “That much?” I asked, surprised. Kevin shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Ryan’s worth it. He’s got a way with those rich women. They just hand him their money.” His voice dripped with jealousy. I looked at Kevin. He was younger and not bad-looking. “You’re good-looking too. I bet those women like your type.” Kevin paused, then burst out laughing. “You’re funny.” He set down the scissors and leaned closer to me. “Ryan has a way of making those women fall for him. They give him whatever he wants.” I raised my eyebrows. “How does he manage that?” Kevin sighed and shook his head, clearly exasperated. “It’s his game. He doesn’t do emotions. If a woman’s hot, he uses her for sex. If she’s rich, he uses her for money.” Just then, we heard a voice from the front. “I want Ryan! I know he’s here. No one else will do.” A young woman was standing at the front desk, arms crossed, shouting. No one seemed to care, continuing with their work. I was shocked. “Aren’t you going to do something?” Kevin hushed me. “This happens all the time. Just wait—someone will always show up looking for Ryan.” I glanced at the girl, her face flushed with anger. No matter how much she yelled, no one paid her any attention. Finally, the green-haired receptionist snapped at her, “If you really want Ryan, I can book you an appointment.” The girl exploded. “Book an appointment? Are you serious? Do you even know what we are to each other?” She waved her finger in the air. “Let me tell you, I slept with him last night. And now he won’t even acknowledge me!” Kevin snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. But I couldn’t laugh. My mind was reeling—my husband, Ryan, was cheating on me. I sat there, staring at the scene, too numb to process it. While I was still in shock, Ryan came out of the VIP suite. The girl immediately dropped her attitude and rushed over to him, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Baby, I’ve been looking for you all day. Why didn’t you come out sooner?” Ryan scowled at her. “This is my workplace. Don’t make a scene.”

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Just as I was about to divorce Sarah and get back with Jessica, BAM, I died! Now, anyone who comes to my grave has to spit on it and say, “Jerk! Got what he deserved!” At my funeral, I sat next to my own body, trying to figure out how exactly I died. My wife, Sarah, was calm and composed, greeting the guests, bowing to each of them, and politely sending them off. She had said she loved me for seven years, but not a single tear had fallen. Turns out, love really can fade away. That’s when my ex, Jessica, arrived. She threw herself onto my casket, sobbing uncontrollably. Her tears were like a waterfall, and the guests around her were moved to tears too. Even I couldn’t help but cry. “Jessica, it’s over for us in this life. Maybe in the next one, we’ll reunite. I’ll be waiting for you in the afterlife.” Sarah wasn’t having any of it, though. “Jessica’s acting is really over the top, huh? Who exactly is she putting on a show for? He’s dead.” Sarah’s icy stare was fixed on Jessica, full of contempt, as if she were looking at an enemy. Jessica wiped her tears, still looking as delicate as ever. “I know you hate me. You think I stole Chris from you. But I was with him first—you’re the one who came later.” Sarah smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And yet, here you are, and there he lies. If your love was so strong, why didn’t it last?” Damn, Sarah was harsh. Was she really cursing Jessica to die too? Sure enough, Jessica, heartbroken, collapsed on my casket, crying as if the world had ended. “I want to go with him, but I still have my parents to take care of. Chris, wait for me. I’ll come to you in a few decades.” She was crying so miserably, yet her assistant, Rachel, just stood there scrolling through her phone without a care in the world. I had always said that Rachel should be fired. Unable to bear Sarah’s mockery, Jessica quickly left. I really didn’t want to leave her, and Sarah’s cold face wasn’t helping, so I followed Jessica out. But by the time I caught up, Jessica had already dried her tears and was checking her makeup in a mirror. She was even giving instructions. “Did you get the photos and videos? Make sure I look good—delete the ugly ones.” Rachel was busy flipping through her phone, deleting the bad shots one by one. All the pictures were of Jessica sobbing over my casket, looking utterly heartbroken. “Don’t worry, Jess. I’ve captured your best angles. We’ll release a video about your tragic love story. It’ll blow up for sure.” Jessica smiled. “Good. This is what they call ‘tragic love.’ Kids these days love a good, sad love story. So what if Sarah married him? After all these years, dead or alive, I’m the only one he truly loved.” Rachel chuckled, “Exactly. Sarah was the third wheel in this relationship.” Jessica wasn’t sad anymore; she was beaming. “Chris was useless when he was alive, but at least in death, he can serve one final purpose. He should be grateful to me for that.” “Absolutely, Chris would totally thank you,” Rachel added. Me: … Thank you? Are you kidding me? Jessica continued rambling, “So what if Sarah loved Chris for seven years? She’s still got nothing to show for it. Some men are just like that. They always think someone else’s trash is treasure.”

After Jessica’s car drove off, I was still floating there, staring dumbfounded in the direction she left. Just a month ago, Jessica swore she couldn’t live without me. I’ve only been dead for a short while—how has the world turned upside down? Lost in thought for who knows how long, I suddenly found myself back in the house I shared with Sarah. She had set up a small memorial for me, with a smiling picture of me at the center. Sarah was wiping the dust off my photo, her smile full of mockery. “It took me forever to find a photo of you smiling. You always had that serious look, but when you were with Jessica, you smiled all the time.” I remembered now. In the seven years I’d known Sarah, she always wanted a nice photo of us together. But every picture we took, I had a stern expression. I told her I didn’t like smiling. If she didn’t like it, tough luck. But the truth was, I just couldn’t smile around her. Even after seven years apart, the one I loved was always Jessica. I waited for her for a year, and when I found out she was seeing someone else, I quickly accepted Sarah’s confession. It was like I was competing with Jessica. I moved in with Sarah and married her in a flash. “You’ve regretted marrying me every second, haven’t you?” Sarah was talking to my photo now, her face still calm, not a single tear. I used to think she wasn’t upset, but looking at her now, I started feeling guilty. It was like she was questioning me, and after seeing Jessica’s true colors, I started to reflect on my past. “No, we had good times together. Don’t you remember…” I tried to say. I wanted to give her examples, but for the life of me, I couldn’t recall any happy moments. Sarah kept talking to herself, “The first month with you was wonderful. It felt like a dream.” “You’d come home late, but you’d always bring me flowers. They weren’t lilies, which I love, but I was happy all the same.” Was she really happy back then? I couldn’t remember, because during that time, Jessica was constantly flaunting her new relationship on Instagram, and I was seething with jealousy. Every night, I’d buy a bouquet of roses, hoping to see Jessica and tell her that she belonged with me, that her new guy didn’t deserve her. But I never had the courage. I’d just wait outside their apartment until late, then go home feeling crushed. Every time I came home, Sarah was waiting for me. I’d lie, saying I had to work overtime. I’d apologize, hand her the roses, and tell her it was the last bunch from the florist, which was why they didn’t look as fresh. In a daze, I remembered that Sarah had been so happy then, smiling like a little girl. But the truth was, I had been lying to her all along. She never knew. If she had known, she wouldn’t have said those were happy times. “I always knew you were lying.”

I couldn’t understand. If Sarah had known I was lying, why didn’t she ever confront me or get angry? Why would she still say those times were happy? “I knew you were lying, but I didn’t say anything because I thought, as long as you were willing to put in the effort to lie, it meant you still cared. You still wanted to keep our relationship alive.” “You kept going back to Jessica because you couldn’t let go. I thought you’d figure it out and come back to me eventually.” Sarah sat on the couch, quietly staring out the window. On all those nights I came home late, this was how she waited for me—full of hope and disappointment. God, I was such a jerk. Sarah sat there all day, not eating or drinking, saying nothing. Watching her lose her spark, I grew anxious. I circled her, trying to wake her up. “Sarah, I’m not worth it. Please, get some rest. Eat something. Don’t do this to yourself.” But I was already dead. No matter what I said, she couldn’t hear me. I regretted it so much—why didn’t I cherish her love when I was alive? The day after the funeral, Sarah finally moved. Michael came over. I knew Michael had always liked Sarah. I wasn’t sure if she knew. Michael was her colleague. They stayed in touch a lot after she joined the company. I remember going to pick Sarah up from a company dinner once. Michael’s look and body language made it clear—he liked her. After that, I didn’t let Sarah spend much time with Michael. I even suggested she switch departments to avoid him. Sarah was my wife. Even if I didn’t love her, she was still mine, in name at least. No other man had the right to touch her. But now I was dead, and Michael couldn’t wait to swoop in? Even though Sarah knew I didn’t love her, she wouldn’t stay faithful to a dead man. I was in pain. I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to stick around and watch her get close to another man. Michael brought a thermos and looked at Sarah with concern. “I knew you hadn’t eaten. Sarah, don’t do this to yourself. You’ll only make yourself sick, and he wouldn’t care.” “He’s probably waiting for his next romantic soulmate right now.” He laid out the food, and I peered in, scoffing. None of it was what Sarah liked. She didn’t eat spicy food, didn’t like sweet stuff, and hated fish. For years, there hadn’t been a single pepper or fish in our house. The only exception was when crabs were in season. Michael claimed to like her, but he didn’t even know what she enjoyed eating. What a joke. I felt smug. No way he’d win her over with this. He wasted his time coming. But Sarah sat down, picked up the chopsticks, and smiled. “This is all my favorite food. Thank you, Michael.”

Sarah ate the Buffalo wings, sweet and sour pork, and the steamed salmon. “You haven’t eaten all day, and now you’re having so much meat and fish. Aren’t you worried you’ll upset your stomach?” I was pacing around, getting more and more irritated the happier she seemed as she ate. “We’ve been together for years, and you never told me you liked this kind of food. Every time we ate together, you said you didn’t like spicy, sweet, or fish dishes. Were you lying to me? Or is it just that it tastes better because Michael brought it? My urn is still sitting right there, and you’re already moving on this fast?” Sarah finished her meal, leaned back, and gave a contented sigh. “It’s been years since I’ve enjoyed food like this. Thank you, Michael.” Michael sighed too. “You changed your entire diet for him. Was it really worth it?” I was dumbstruck. “For me?” Memories started flooding back. I remembered when Sarah and I first met—back then, she was full of life, always laughing, and she loved food. She ate spicy food, sweet things, and fish. She even had a bit of a sweet tooth, and every time we went out, she’d grab a bunch of snacks.

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