1 Rowan and I lived together for three years. All that time, a framed photo of a snow-capped mountain stayed on his desk. When I asked to replace it with a New Year’s photo of us, he smiled and refused, saying the composition was perfect. While cleaning one afternoon, sunlight hit the glass just right. That’s when I noticed her—a tiny girl in a red parka, standing on a trail halfway up the slope. She was small, easy to miss unless you looked closely, yet perfectly in focus, as if the photographer had centered her while pretending to capture the landscape. Scrolling through Rowan’s Instagram from three years ago, I found four posts that month. Every one was a landscape—and every one hid that same flash of red. When he got home late, I handed him the frame. “Who is she?” I asked. He wiped dust from the corner, set it back in place, and said, “Just some random tourist.” His finger lingered on the edge, brushing it like he was touching a cheek. In three years, he had no photos of us on his phone. Yet that red figure had been his wallpaper the entire time. I laughed softly and looked away. The next day, I accepted a company transfer. There was no place for me in his view, and I was done being part of the backdrop. “Change the sheets in the master bedroom to a fresh set. Riley is moving in for a few days this afternoon.” Rowan dropped that bomb without even looking up as he kicked off his dress shoes in the entryway. I was sitting on the couch, double-checking the electronic receipt for breaking our apartment lease. My finger froze over the screen. “Who is Riley?” “A junior from my college. She just moved back to the States and hasn’t secured an apartment yet.” Rowan tossed his leather briefcase onto the coffee table and loosened his tie. “Two days ago, you swore the girl in the mountain photo was a complete stranger.” His fingers froze on his collar button. Two seconds passed before he furrowed his brows. “You stalked my old posts?” “Your profile is public. I scrolled back three years. It took quite a bit of effort.” He let out a heavy sigh and walked over, sitting down next to me. “Rowan. You and I have lived together for three years. And now you’re letting a girl you secretly photographed for five years move into our home?” “What do you mean, secretly photographed? Don’t make it sound so creepy.” His tone carried a sharp edge of impatience. “The outdoor club went to Alaska together. She happened to be standing in front of me, so I snapped a picture. That’s it.” “Then why didn’t you happen to snap a picture of a guy?” “Do you really have to be this petty?” Rowan stood up, looking down at me with absolute exhaustion. “She is a young girl who just moved back to the country. She has no family here. What is so wrong with me looking out for her as an older alumni?” “There are plenty of hotels.” “Do you have any idea how expensive hotels are in this city? She just got her first job. She doesn’t have that kind of cash.” “Our apartment isn’t a homeless shelter.” He stared at me for a long, heavy moment before letting out a cold scoff. “Sloane, you never used to be this narrow-minded.” “I used to be stupid.” “Whatever. I’m not doing this with you.” Rowan turned his back and walked straight toward the master bedroom. “I already promised her she could stay. She’ll be here with her luggage this afternoon. Hurry up and change those sheets.” “I’m not doing it.” “If you won’t, I will.” He violently yanked open the closet door and pulled out a brand-new four-piece bedding set. I sat on the couch and watched him work. In three years of living together, the man didn’t even know how to turn on the washing machine. Now, for another woman, he was clumsily wrestling with a pillowcase. At three in the afternoon, the doorbell rang. Rowan practically jogged to open it. “Rowan!” A crisp, sweet voice floated into the apartment. A girl in a khaki trench coat stepped inside, dragging two massive silver suitcases behind her. She spotted me and paused. “You must be Sloane.” She smiled sweetly, her eyes curving into perfect little crescents. “Rowan talks about you all the time. He says you’re amazing at taking care of people.” “He never talks about you.” I leaned against the wall, keeping my voice completely flat. Riley’s smile froze. She cast a pitiful, wronged look at Rowan. Rowan immediately shot me a lethal glare. “Can you just shut your mouth for one second?” He turned back to Riley, his voice instantly softening into melted butter. “Ignore her. She’s just in a bad mood today. Are those bags heavy? Let me take them into the room for you.” “Thank you, Rowan.” Riley followed him into the master bedroom. That was the room we had slept in for three years. I had been sleeping in the guest room for the past week. Rowan claimed his neck was acting up and said the mattress in the master bedroom was softer. Being the understanding girlfriend, I had voluntarily moved to the guest bed to give him space. Looking at it now, he was just clearing the room for her. Ten minutes later, Riley walked out of the bedroom. She strolled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning the shelves. “Rowan, why don’t you have any ice water in here?” “Sloane has a weak stomach. We only keep hot water in the house.” Rowan answered from the living room. Riley pulled a mug from the rack and filled it halfway from the hot water dispenser. It was my mug. I had commissioned that mug from a local pottery studio. My initials were carved right into the bottom. I walked over and snatched the cup straight out of her hand. A splash of hot water hit the cuff of her trench coat. “Ah!” She let out a sharp shriek and stumbled backward. Rowan charged into the kitchen like a bull and shoved me hard out of the way. “Are you out of your mind!” He grabbed a handful of paper towels and frantically dabbed at Riley’s sleeve. “Did you get burned?” “No, the water just spilled.” Riley bit her lower lip. Her eyes instantly welled up with red-rimmed tears. “Does Sloane hate that I’m here? If it’s too much trouble, I can leave right now.” She turned, taking a dramatic step toward the bedroom to get her bags. Rowan reached out and grabbed her wrist tight. “Where are you going? This is my apartment. I decide who gets to stay.” He slowly turned his head, fixing me with a look of pure disgust. “It’s just a cheap mug. Would it kill you to let her use it?” “I don’t know if it’ll kill her, but I find it disgusting.” I tossed the mug directly into the stainless steel trash can. The sound of shattering ceramic echoed violently in the kitchen. Rowan’s face went completely rigid. “Sloane, don’t push your luck.” “What luck? The luck of putting up with you?” I stared back at him with absolute ice. “Rowan, you can let her sleep in the master bedroom. But if she touches a single thing that belongs to me, I will smash it into pieces.” “You are completely unreasonable!” “You’ll find out exactly how unreasonable I can be very soon.” 2 Over the next two days, Rowan and Riley turned the apartment into their own personal playground. When I walked out of the guest room in the mornings, the bathroom was perpetually occupied. I could hear Riley humming a pop song over the sound of the running shower. I stood outside that door for a solid thirty minutes. Rowan walked out of the kitchen carrying two plates of perfectly fried eggs. He gave me a sideways glance. “What’s the rush? Riley takes her time washing her hair. Could you not just wake up earlier?” “It is eight in the morning. I leave for work at eight-thirty.” “Then go use the public restroom down the street.” He said it so casually. Like asking his girlfriend to use a public toilet was the most normal thing in the world. I stared at those beautifully golden eggs on his plates. In three years of dating, the man had never cooked breakfast for me once. He used to tell me the grease from cooking was bad for my skin and insisted I learn to cook instead. I believed his garbage. I woke up thirty minutes early every single day to make him oatmeal and coffee. It turned out he wasn’t incapable of cooking. He just didn’t want to cook for me. The bathroom door finally unlatched. Riley stepped out wrapped in a white towel. Water dripped from the ends of her hair, leaving puddles on the hardwood floor. “Oh, sorry Sloane. I didn’t know you were in such a rush.” She smiled without a single shred of actual guilt. “It’s fine. Take as long as you want from now on.” I walked into the bathroom and clicked the lock shut. On the vanity, my expensive face wash had been squeezed flat, the cap left wide open. My favorite pink towel was currently draped over the dripping showerhead. I ripped the towel down and threw it straight into the trash can. Then I turned around, left the apartment, and went to work. I deliberately stayed at the office late that night. Our lease didn’t expire for another two months, and I needed time to secure my next move. When I pushed open the front door, the living room lights were off. The only illumination came from the flickering glow of the television screen. On the couch, Rowan and Riley were huddled together, watching a horror movie. Riley had her face buried in Rowan’s shoulder. Her arms were wrapped tightly around a throw pillow. It was the pillow I had hand-stitched. It had my and Rowan’s initials intertwined in the center. “Rowan, I’m scared.” “Don’t be. It’s all fake.” Rowan patted her back gently. His voice was incredibly soft. I stood in the entryway feeling like a complete stranger intruding on someone else’s happy home. When he was chasing me back in the day, he took me to a horror movie too. I had been terrified and grabbed his sleeve. He had yanked his arm away in disgust and told me the special effects looked like cheap garbage. I used to think he was just an unromantic, pragmatic guy. It turned out even pragmatic guys had a deeply tender side. It just depended entirely on who was sitting next to them. I reached over and flicked on the main entryway light. The harsh brightness shattered their intimate little bubble instantly. Riley bounced off Rowan’s shoulder like she had been electrocuted. Rowan scowled at me. “Could you announce yourself when you walk in? You almost gave us a heart attack.” “This is my home. Is turning on a light a crime now?” I kicked off my heels and walked straight up to the couch. I snatched the embroidered pillow right out of Riley’s arms. “Sloane, what are you doing.” Riley looked up at me with wide, pitiful eyes. “This is mine.” “It’s just a pillow. What’s the big deal if I hold it for a bit?” “I don’t share.” I hugged the pillow to my chest and walked toward the guest room. Rowan’s suppressed anger echoed behind me. “Sloane, why are you acting so territorial lately? You’re acting like a paranoid hoarder.” “It’s my stuff. I’ll hoard it however I want.” I didn’t even look back as I slammed the bedroom door shut. The next day was Saturday. I spent the morning packing up the clothes and books I rarely used. I heard the sound of someone rummaging through drawers outside. I opened my door and saw Riley digging through the master bedroom’s nightstand. It was a drawer Rowan and I used to share. It held all our important documents and valuables. “What are you looking for?” I leaned against the doorframe, watching her. She jumped, startled. In her hand was a red velvet box. It was the tie clip I had bought just last month. I was planning to give it to Rowan for his thirtieth birthday. It cost me half a month’s salary to have it custom engraved with an initial. “Rowan said he couldn’t find his favorite tie clip, so he asked me to look for it.” She confidently flipped the box open. “Wow, this is gorgeous. It even has an R engraved on it.” R was the first letter of Rowan’s name. It was also the first letter of Riley’s. “Give it back.” I held out my hand. Riley pulled the box tight to her chest. “Sloane, this belongs to Rowan, doesn’t it? Why are you trying to take it?” “I bought it.” Rowan walked through the front door right at that moment, carrying a bag of groceries. Hearing the argument, he dropped the plastic bags and walked over. “What’s going on?” “Rowan, Sloane is trying to steal your tie clip.” Riley held the box out to him, her eyes instantly going red again. Rowan looked at the silver clip inside the velvet cushion and paused. “You bought this for me?” “Yes.” “Then it belongs to me, doesn’t it?” He snatched the box from her hand with absolute entitlement and clipped it directly onto the collar of Riley’s parka. “Riley has a big job interview today. I’m letting her borrow it for good luck.” I stared at that elegant, custom-made silver clip sitting awkwardly on her bright red outdoor jacket. “Rowan, that is a men’s tie clip.” “Who cares about gender rules? As long as it works.” He waved me off like a minor annoyance. “Besides, if you’re so heartbroken over it, just go buy another one.” “Just buy another one?” “It’s really not a big deal. Do you have to act this petty over everything?” I looked at his arrogant, deeply entitled face, and a laugh bubbled up in my throat. “You’re right. It’s not a big deal at all.” I turned around, walked back into the guest room, and locked the door. “Are you having another mental breakdown!” Rowan smacked his palm violently against the wood. 3 Friday night was my company’s annual appreciation gala. As the lead project manager, my attendance was mandatory. Rowan was the representative for our partner firm, so he was naturally on the guest list. According to company tradition, semi-public couples like us were supposed to walk the red carpet and sign in together. I had confirmed the schedule with him a whole week in advance. At five in the afternoon, I finished putting on my evening gown at home and gave him a call. “Are you on your way?” “Not yet. Riley has a bit of an emergency.” The background noise on his end was chaotic. It sounded like a shopping mall. “What emergency could possibly be more important than my project’s gala?” “She passed her interview. She said she needs a professional suit, so I’m helping her pick one out.” “Rowan, the gala starts at six-thirty. This is the celebration dinner for the project I led.” “I know, I know, we’ll make it in time. You go ahead. I’ll be there a little late.” He hung up immediately. I looked at myself in the mirror. I had spent two hours perfecting my makeup. My face was completely devoid of emotion as I picked up my clutch and ordered an Uber. I signed the guestbook alone. I walked to the head table alone. Seeing me flying solo, my coworkers immediately started teasing me. “Sloane, where’s Mr. Prince Charming? Didn’t he want to play your bodyguard tonight?” “He had some things to take care of. He’ll be here soon.” I held my champagne flute, flashing a flawless, bulletproof smile. At seven-thirty, the banquet was already halfway over. The heavy double doors of the ballroom suddenly pushed open. Rowan walked in wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. And tucked smoothly into the crook of his arm was a woman in a stunning red evening gown. It was Riley. Every single pair of eyes in the room instantly locked onto them. My knuckles turned white around the stem of my champagne glass. That red dress was the exact one I had seen in a magazine last month. I had told Rowan how much I loved it. I hadn’t bought it because the price tag was absurd. Now, it was draped over Riley’s body. And it fit her sickeningly well. Rowan led Riley straight to our table. “Sorry we’re late. Traffic was a nightmare.” He casually pulled out the empty chair next to me and offered it to Riley. The color drained from my coworkers’ faces. Everyone exchanged incredibly awkward glances. “And this is?” The CEO cleared his throat, asking the question everyone was thinking. “This is my college junior, Riley. She just moved back to the States. I brought her out to experience the industry a bit.” Rowan introduced her with absolute confidence. Riley stood up and raised her wine glass. “Hi everyone, I’m Riley. Rowan talks about you all the time. Thank you for taking such good care of him. Cheers.” She spoke with the supreme confidence of a hostess welcoming guests into her own home. Paige, my assistant sitting on my other side, couldn’t take the disrespect. She muttered under her breath. “The only one taking care of Rowan is our Sloane.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried perfectly across the table. Riley’s face froze. She looked at Rowan with big, wounded eyes. Rowan frowned deeply, shooting Paige a freezing glare. “The partnership between our two companies is built on professional merit, not on who takes care of who.” That sentence dropped the temperature at the table below freezing. The CEO scrambled to save the mood. “Right, right, merit is everything! Come on, let’s cut the celebration cake!” A massive three-tiered cake was wheeled out onto the floor. It was covered in little fondant figures representing everyone on our project team. Sitting at the very top of the highest tier was my figure. Because I was the absolute backbone of this project. The event host handed me a silver knife tied with a red ribbon, gesturing for me to make the first cut. I started to stand up, but Rowan suddenly clamped a heavy hand over mine. “Let Riley cut it.” The entire ballroom went so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I turned my head, staring at him in utter disbelief. “Excuse me?” “Riley just landed a great job today. We should celebrate her too. Let her borrow some of your good luck.” He snatched the knife right out of the host’s hand and shoved it directly into Riley’s palm. Riley gave a pathetic, fake little pushback. “I shouldn’t do this. This is Sloane’s big night.” “What’s the big deal? It’s just a slice of cake. Sloane doesn’t care about stuff like this.” Rowan gave her a gentle push on the back. Riley smiled shyly and walked right up to the cake, gripping the silver knife. She brought the blade down hard. The very first slice went straight through the top tier, cutting right across my fondant figure. The top half of my little sugar clone tumbled off the cake and crashed onto the silver tray. Scattered, hesitant applause echoed around the room. Every single person was looking at me with intense, suffocating pity. That pity humiliated me worse than a slap to the face. I stood frozen, watching Rowan gaze at Riley with absolute adoration as she sliced a cake that wasn’t hers. Somewhere deep inside my chest, the last remaining pillar holding my love for this man completely collapsed. I set my champagne glass down on the table with a soft click. “Sloane, are you okay?” Paige tugged anxiously at the hem of my dress. “I’m fine.” I grabbed my shawl off the back of the chair. “Since Rowan loves cutting cakes so much, I’ll leave you all to it. My stomach is acting up. I’m heading home.” “Sloane!” Rowan snapped at my back, a harsh warning in his tone. “Everyone is watching. Are you seriously going to throw a tantrum and embarrass us all?” I stopped walking and turned around to look at him. “The only one humiliated here is me.” I turned back on my heels and walked out of the ballroom without looking back once. 4 Tomorrow was our four-year anniversary. It was also the day I had scheduled my flight out of the city. The company had arranged my transfer to the Seattle branch, and I accepted it without a single second of hesitation. It worked out perfectly. I didn’t even have to hunt for a new apartment. The next morning, for the first time in days, Rowan wasn’t lingering in the master bedroom with Riley. He was sitting on the living room couch, staring at a cold cup of coffee. When he saw me wheeling two massive suitcases out of the guest room, he blinked in surprise. “What is all this?” “The company is sending me on a business trip to the branch office.” I kept my voice completely flat. No anger. No emotion. “You need this much stuff for a trip? Didn’t you ship boxes of your books out yesterday?” “The conditions at the branch are rough. I’m bringing the things I’m used to.” He frowned, clearly unsettled by my unnatural calm. “Are you still throwing a fit over last night?” “No.” “Sloane, you are way too sensitive. Riley is just a young girl. What is so wrong with me looking out for her? We’re about to get married, why is your capacity for tolerance so pathetic?” Married. Hearing that word now felt like a sick joke. “Today is our four-year anniversary.” I reminded him. He slapped his thigh, adopting a look of sudden realization. “Right, right, I remember. I’m taking a half-day off this afternoon. I’ll go with you to buy that diamond ring you’ve been looking at, and then we’ll get a nice steak dinner.” “Okay.” I agreed instantly. My lack of a fight made him uncomfortable. He coughed awkwardly. “Just leave the bags here for now. I’ll drive you to the airport this afternoon.” At noon, I emptied the very last drawer in the guest room. There wasn’t a single trace left in that room to prove I had ever existed. I had even peeled off every Polaroid photo I ever taped to the walls. All that remained was a slightly yellowing blank wall. I sat on the bare mattress, waiting for a text from Rowan. At one-thirty, my phone rang. Through the speaker, I heard the screech of a cat and a woman’s hysterical sobbing. “Sloane, I’m so sorry, I can’t make it this afternoon.” “What happened?” “Riley was feeding a stray cat downstairs and it scratched her deep. She’s bleeding everywhere. I’m driving her to the ER for rabies shots.” “She can get rabies shots at any urgent care clinic in five minutes.” “She’s terrified! She’s crying so hard she can barely walk! How am I supposed to just leave her alone?” He spoke with frantic impatience, acting like I was being entirely unreasonable. “But you promised you would spend the afternoon with me.” “Can’t we buy the ring tomorrow? What difference does a day make for an anniversary? This is a medical emergency. Can you not grasp basic priorities?” I said nothing. It was always exactly like this. Her getting a paper cut was an emergency. Her being scared of the dark was an emergency. Her feeding a cat was an emergency. My expectations, my waiting, were always met with “next time” or “some other day.” “Go ahead.” I said softly. “Don’t be mad, okay? I’ll order some nice takeout tonight to make it up to you.” He rushed to hang up the phone. I stared at the black screen. I wasn’t angry. I didn’t shed a single tear. All I felt was an overwhelming, unprecedented sense of relief. I walked out to the living room and picked up the photo frame he kept in the most prominent spot by the door. The photo of the snow-capped mountain. I popped the cardboard backing off and pulled the glossy print out. I grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer. Carefully, meticulously, I cut the tiny girl in the red parka right out of the snowy trail. It left a jagged, ugly hole right in the center of the picture. I put the mutilated landscape back into the frame and placed it exactly where I found it. Then, I walked into the bathroom. I took that tiny red cutout, grabbed a piece of clear packing tape, and plastered it directly over the power switch of Rowan’s electric razor. When that was done, I walked to the coffee table. I laid down the printed lease termination agreement and the spare apartment key right in the center of the glass. Next to the key, I placed the engagement ring he had bought online for me years ago. A thirty-dollar cubic zirconia piece of junk. I grabbed the handles of my two suitcases and pulled open the front door. I took one last look at the place I had lived in for three years. Sunlight filtered through the screen door on the balcony. Tiny specks of dust floated in the warm air. This used to be my home. Now, it was just a cheap motel. The lock clicked shut with a sharp snap, locking the past away forever. The Uber driver helped me heave my bags into the trunk. “Where to, miss?” “To the airport.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “450041”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

In the dead of night, a severe allergic reaction struck. My throat began to swell, cutting off my air. Panicking, I dialed my husband, Nathan, who was a doctor on duty at the hospital. “Hello?” he answered. He rarely picked up during a night shift, yet this time he answered almost instantly. A wave of relief and warmth washed over me. “Nathan, I’m having an allergic reaction. Can you…” Before I could finish, the playful voice of his female intern, Sienna, drifted through the line. “Haha, fooled you! The call hasn’t actually gone through yet. Dr. Nathan is busy right now, so please try again later!” The line rang a dozen more times before the call actually connected. “I’m on shift. We’ll talk when I get home. Bye.” My throat had swollen shut, leaving me unable to make a sound. Not that he gave me a chance to try. The cold, mechanical dial tone buzzed in my ear, throbbing against my temples. When I tried calling back, his phone was already turned off. The antihistamines I had swallowed did nothing. Instead, my chest tightened, and my breath grew shallow. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I forced myself to dial 911. But I couldn’t even rasp out my address. Under the operator’s urgent, frantic questions, the phone slipped from my limp fingers. In the final second before darkness took me, a single thought crystallized: If I survive this, Nathan and I are done. For good. 1 When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw was the anxious face of my best friend, Gwen. “Vivi, thank God you’re awake! I nearly died of fright when the hospital called me!” She squeezed my hand, her eyes red. “Do you have any idea how bad it was? You went into anaphylactic shock. They had to resuscitate you for six hours! You’ve been asleep for two days and a night!” I tried to comfort her, but the moment I moved my lips, a wave of numbness spread across my face. I looked around the room. It was a four-bed ward, occupied only by myself and an older woman in the corner. There was no sign of Nathan. “Don’t bother looking. He hasn’t set foot in here,” Gwen said, her voice dripping with irritation. Forcing myself upright, I fumbled around for my phone. There was only a single text from him. It wasn’t asking where I was, or why I hadn’t come home. It was just a cold, brief update: Out of town for a week. No discussion. Just an announcement. After a moment’s hesitation, I typed back: I had an allergic reaction. Take your meds. What if I’m in the hospital? Don’t be dramatic. There’s medicine at home. The reply was entirely expected, yet it still made my eyes sting. I swallowed the lump in my throat, letting go of the very last shred of hope I held for him. After three days, my condition improved slightly, and I practically forced Gwen to go back to work. At noon, as I went down to pick up my takeout, I walked past the nurses’ station and caught them gossiping. “Did you see that gorgeous couple in private room 502? They look like movie stars.” “And they’re so sweet together. It was just a mild allergy, but her boyfriend pulled strings to get our deputy director to run her allergen panels personally.” A cold, bitter feeling crept into my chest. Once upon a time, Nathan had been just as terrified for me. The first time I had a severe reaction, he had stayed by my bedside for twenty-four hours straight. As long as I couldn’t eat or drink, he refused to touch a single thing. He had never been one to show emotion, but that night, he wept as he held me close. “Vivi, you’re the only family I have left. Please don’t leave me.” Today, all I got was a text telling me to take my medicine. How passionate a man is when he loves you, and how utterly freezing he becomes when he doesn’t. Clutching my takeout bag, I turned around. But a casual glance through a half-open door froze me in my tracks. Inside private room 502, Nathan was leaning over a bed, tending to a young woman. Sienna. He was pouring her water, gently peeling a piece of fruit for her. Just a few nights ago, my throat had been terribly dry, and I had asked him for a glass of water. He had scoffed, “Is a sore throat keeping you from using your legs or your hands? I’ve had a brutal shift, Vivi. Can you give me a break?” I had felt so small, so pathetic. I wanted to explain that I was too dizzy to stand, but before I could get a word out, he had rolled over, taking most of the blanket with him. From that night on, I never asked him for anything again. Sienna pouted playfully, though her lips curved into a smug smile. “Dr. Nathan, it was just a little itch. You’re being way too dramatic.” Nathan maintained his usual stoic face, but his voice was remarkably gentle. “Allergic reactions can be lethal. Just lie still. Once the lab results are clear, I’ll take you out.” A dry laugh caught in my throat. So he did know allergies could kill. It was just that my life didn’t carry the same weight as someone else’s. I pulled out my phone and quickly typed a message: Where are you? Half a minute later, the reply came: Working overtime. The chime of my phone seemed to catch his attention. Nathan looked up, his gaze sweeping over the hallway and landing directly on me. He held my eyes for less than a half-second before casually looking away, as if I were a complete stranger. Walking back to my ward, I pulled up my emergency contacts. Under Primary, it read: Nathan. Under Secondary: Gwen. Without a moment’s hesitation, I hit delete on his name. If he couldn’t be reached when my throat was swelling shut, there was no point in letting him hold that spot any longer. On the day I was discharged, I ran into Nathan right at the entrance of our apartment building. Sienna was trailing close behind him. The moment he spotted me, he instinctively stepped forward, shielding her slightly behind his shoulder. A protective reflex. “Sienna and I just got back from our business trip,” he explained quickly. “She got car sick, so I brought her over to rest for a bit. I didn’t think you’d be home during the day. If it bothers you, I can take her home right now.” His mouth kept moving, but I felt entirely detached. Aside from our arguments, Nathan was normally a man of few words around me. Now, whether out of guilt or something else, he was rambling in full, defensive sentences. He had said more to me in thirty seconds than he usually did in an entire day. Sienna kept her head low, her voice trembling like a kicked puppy. “Maybe I should go, Dr. Nathan. I don’t think your wife likes—” “I don’t mind,” I interrupted. A flicker of surprise crossed both their faces. After all, I had always been perfectly warm and welcoming to the other interns in his department. Sienna was the sole exception. It wasn’t an irrational hatred, either. I kept finding things she had “accidentally” left behind in Nathan’s car—a lipstick, a small pocket mirror, cute stickers. Every time I brought them up to him, Nathan would just scowl and mutter, “Impassive child’s play.” I had agreed back then. Only a child who wanted attention would try to mark her territory. What I hadn’t noticed at the time was the faint, amused curl at the corner of Nathan’s lips whenever he dismissed her. Until two months ago, that was. Sienna had texted me a picture of herself and Nathan lying on the same cot. That was the day I finally snapped. I threw the phone at him, screaming and demanding answers like a woman possessed. He had calmly explained that it was just a cot in the lab. They had both been fully clothed; what could they possibly have done? Besides, there were other researchers in the lab. Surely I didn’t think they’d sleep together with a third party in the room? Sienna had called me right on cue, sounding utterly apologetic. “I’m so sorry! It was just a joke. There were actually four of us in the room that night.” Nathan had chimed in, “If it bothers you that much, I’ll keep my distance from her.” Looking back, I realized how incredibly foolish I had been to buy into their absurd excuses. Once inside the apartment, Sienna headed straight for the master bedroom. Nathan grabbed her arm, casting a cautious look in my direction. I offered a thin smile. “It’s fine. Go ahead and rest.” I wouldn’t be using that bed anyway. A flicker of uncertainty crossed Nathan’s eyes. He seemed to search my face, desperate to find some sign of anger or jealousy. But my expression was a smooth, empty slate. Letting go of her arm, he muttered, “I’ll make lunch.” I nodded and sat down on the sofa. Moments later, Sienna’s voice drifted out. “Dr. Nathan, do you still have those tampons I left in your bag last time?” She popped her head out and stuck her tongue out sheepishly at me. “Sorry, I hate carrying a purse, so I just slip them into Nathan’s bag. I’m sensitive to most brands, and that’s the only one that doesn’t give me a rash.” Her eyes, however, sparkled with triumph. Nathan reached into the leather messenger bag I had bought him, retrieved a tampon, and handed it to her. Then he turned to look at me, his mouth opening as if to offer an explanation. I closed my eyes and leaned back, pretending to doze off. I felt his gaze lingering on my face for a long time before he finally walked into the kitchen. Nathan made a spread of four dishes—spicy pork with peppers, a cold spinach salad, stir-fried beef with celery, and a wild mushroom soup. Every single dish was heavily garnished with chopped scallions. Sienna emerged from the bedroom wearing one of my silk robes, letting out a delighted squeal. “Oh, wow! All my favorites! I’m going to eat so much!” I sat there, my silverware untouched. Nathan frowned, a hint of his usual impatience creeping into his tone. “If you don’t eat now, don’t ask me to cook for you when you get hungry tonight.” My voice was flat, devoid of any anger as I stated a simple fact. “I’m allergic to green onions.” Nathan’s hand froze, his fork hovering in mid-air. For once, his cold mask cracked. “Right. I forgot,” he muttered, sounding genuinely flustered. “I’ll whip up something else for you.” “Don’t worry about it.” I grabbed my purse from the counter. “You two enjoy. I’m going to stay at Gwen’s for a few days.” Before walking out, I looked at Sienna. “Make yourself at home.” Just as I was about to close the door behind me, Nathan’s hand shot out to block it. “Do you really have to be so petty with a kid?” he hissed under his breath. “I’m sending her home right after we eat.” I didn’t answer. Instead, my eyes fell on his left hand. “You’re wearing a ring,” I noted quietly. In our four years of marriage, he had never worn his wedding band. He had always claimed it was unsafe and impractical for a surgeon. Nathan quickly pulled his hand back, tucking his fingers out of sight. “Sienna insisted. She bought them as a joke.” He swallowed hard. “It’s not a couple’s ring, it’s just…” “Just asking,” I interrupted. “You don’t owe me an explanation.” He bit his lip, studying my face before his tone softened. “Go rest at Gwen’s then. I’ll pick you up tomorrow after my shift.” I didn’t reply. I just turned and walked down the stairs. It didn’t matter anymore. After today, who slept in our bed, whose tampons he carried, or whose matching ring he wore would no longer be my concern. On the cab ride over, we passed the jewelry boutique where we had bought our rings years ago. I asked the driver to pull over. Tracing the gold band on my finger, a memory from seven years ago surfaced. A stubborn boy had insisted he hated rings, and an angry girl had stormed off. A few weeks later, that same boy had knelt before her with the exact diamond ring she had coveted. “Will you be my only family?” he had whispered, his eyes shining. “In sickness and in health, until death do us part.” My vision cleared, blinking away the phantom memory. I pushed the glass doors open and walked up to the counter. “Do you buy back estate jewelry?” I asked. The next day, Gwen accompanied me back to the hospital for my follow-up appointment. My regular physician was away on a seminar, so I was squeezed into another specialist’s schedule. When I walked into the exam room, the older doctor looked at me in surprise. “Vivian?” I blinked, and then recognition clicked. “Dr. Harrison!” A rare smile broke across his otherwise stern face. “I remember you from your wedding with Nathan.” Dr. Harrison was Nathan’s mentor and one of the country’s leading immunologists. Nathan had promised years ago to bring me to his office for a thorough evaluation. But he had put it off, year after year, until the promise had faded into nothingness. After a series of tests, Dr. Harrison reviewed my charts. “Your physical allergens haven’t changed, Vivian. Which means this sudden flare-up is likely stress-induced. Have you been suffering from insomnia, severe anxiety, or depression lately?” I froze. A sudden, bitter wave of realization crashed over me. No wonder my health had been deteriorating over the past six months. It turned out my body was physically rejecting the misery of my marriage, even when my mind tried to play it down. On the ride back, Gwen spent the entire time cursing Nathan’s name. But I felt remarkably numb. Perhaps it was true what they said—when your physical health is failing, you lose the luxury of caring about heartbreak. My phone buzzed in my lap. Nathan: You went to see Dr. Harrison? Vivian: Yes. Nathan: Why didn’t you tell me? I could have gone with you. Vivian: It wasn’t planned. Just a coincidence. Nathan: He said there is still one test result pending. I’ll pick you up tonight, and we can go together tomorrow. My thumb brushed over the smooth envelope containing the divorce papers in my bag. Vivian: Okay. When I arrived at the apartment that evening, the place was spotless. He had clearly spent hours scrubbing it. He blocked my path just as I was heading toward the guest room. “Are you still mad at me?” I shook my head. “Then why aren’t you sleeping in our room?” I looked at him, then let out a single, honest word. “It’s dirty.” I meant it literally, but Nathan flinched as if I had slapped him. “She’s just a kid, Vivian,” he snapped, his jaw tightening. “Be reasonable. Know when to stop.” Know when to stop. It had been years since I last heard him use that phrase. Hearing it now dragged up memories I thought I had buried long ago. I had fallen for him at first sight during our university’s freshman orientation. He had been an ice king, cold and unapproachable. After several of my attempts to talk to him were met with silence, I began asking around. I learned he was an orphan, surviving solely on academic grants, part-time jobs, and the kindness of his professors. I convinced myself his cold exterior was just a shield. I believed that if I showered him with enough warmth, I could melt the ice. I used to pick the best pieces of meat from my plate and drop them onto his. During his track meets, I would scream his name so loudly my voice drowned out the entire crowd. Over the holidays, when everyone else went home and he had nowhere to go, I stayed behind to keep him company. Whenever my persistence wore him down, he would sigh and mutter those exact words: Know when to stop. But I had ignored them. “Come to my place for Thanksgiving! My mom’s cooking is incredible!” “Don’t be sad. From now on, I’m your family!” Then, during our sophomore year, a ceiling fan in our classroom came loose and plummeted toward my head. Amid the screams of our classmates, Nathan had thrown his body over mine. The heavy, muffled groan he let out as the metal blades struck his back was a sound I remembered for years. In the quiet years that followed, that memory had saved our relationship a thousand times over. But as I looked at his hardened jawline now, I couldn’t find a single trace of the boy who had once risked his life to shield me. I gently pulled my arm out of his grasp and walked past him into the master bedroom. I ripped back the duvet. Nothing. I slid open the nightstand drawer. Nothing. Finally, I knelt down and reached under the bed. My fingers brushed against silk. I pulled out a black lace bralette. It wasn’t mine. Nathan’s lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. I let out a soft, mocking laugh and tossed the lace directly into his face. “You’re the one who needs to know when to stop, Nathan.” Without waiting for a reply, I walked back to the guest room and locked the door. The next morning, Nathan took a late shift so he could drive me to the hospital. But the moment we arrived at the clinic, I saw Sienna sitting in the waiting area.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “450040”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 At our high school reunion, my wife excused herself, claiming she had to step out for a quick errand. I waited three hours, but she never returned. Just as I was about to go look for her, I caught the sound of her voice near the venue’s exit, talking to her best friend, Amy. “Tristan is getting married tomorrow,” my wife said, her voice laced with a breathless intensity. “I want to spend tonight wild with him. I don’t want to live the rest of my life with any regrets.” “Make sure you keep my cover,” she added. Amy sighed. “Are you really still that obsessed with him? Is Tristan really that special?” My wife let out a soft, mocking laugh. “Tristan isn’t as gentle or sweet as Hugh, but he’s a beast in bed. He gives me a thrill Hugh never could.” My mind went entirely blank. I quietly slipped back into the venue. A few minutes after I sat down, my wife walked back in, holding Amy’s arm with an innocent, bright smile. “Babe,” she said, leaning down to kiss my cheek. “Amy and I have so much catching up to do. I’m going to stay at her place tonight.” “Remember to pick me up tomorrow morning, okay?” The harsh fluorescent lights of the private room made my eyes sting. I stared at her, unable to speak. When she had left earlier, she was wearing a lavender knit sweater that elegantly exposed her collarbones. Now, she was wearing a high-collared white button-up shirt, buttoned all the way to the top. My chest felt incredibly tight. I forced out a strained nod. “The room is a bit stuffy,” I muttered, pushing myself up. “I’m going to step out for some fresh air.” The biting night air rushed down my throat as I leaned against the brick wall outside, drawing in deep, ragged breaths. My hand instinctively reached into my pocket for a pack of cigarettes, only to find it empty. I had quit smoking three years ago because Madeline hated the smell. When I finally walked back toward the room, the door was slightly ajar. Through the narrow gap, I could see the chaos inside. Madeline was sitting next to a man, her cheeks flushed red from the alcohol, her eyes hazy. She was leaning heavily against his shoulder, and the man was gently stroking her back. That man was Tristan. “What took you so long, Tristan?” one of our former classmates teased, raising a glass. “Did some pretty girl hold you up?” Tristan let out a low chuckle, casting a long, deliberate look at Madeline. “Yeah, you could say a little wildcat kept me busy.” Their eyes locked in a heated, silent exchange. Tristan whispered something in her ear, making Madeline bite her lip and smile. The rest of the room didn’t seem surprised at all. One of our old classmates, his face bright red and his speech slurred, let out a dramatic sigh. “Man, back in high school, we all thought you two would end up married. Who knew Tristan would transfer, and Madeline would end up with the new transfer kid, Hugh?” “Honestly, you two were always the perfect match. Hugh never really fit in with us.” Another drunk classmate chimed in. “Come on, Tristan, level with us. Those three hours Madeline ran off tonight, she was with you, wasn’t she?” Madeline held up her wine glass, her skin flushed. The room was warm, and she casually unbuttoned the top of her collar. I saw the dark, dark red marks staining her pale throat. Hickeys. She laughed, completely unbothered. “Yeah, I was with Tristan. What about it?” Our former class president, Brody, burst into laughter. “We knew it! That’s why we kept dragging Hugh into drinking games to keep him distracted. We didn’t expect you to have Amy cover for you too.” Their laughter echoed through the hallway, ringing in my ears. I stared at the group through the crack in the door, barely recognizing the people I had called friends. “Hugh only hangs around us because his family has money,” someone sneered. “He looks down on us anyway. Of course we’re going to help you cover this up!” Just last week, that same classmate had been pleading with me over dinner, begging for a meeting with my father to secure a supply contract for his struggling business. Now, he spoke of me with nothing but contempt. The drinking games continued inside, and Madeline lost a round. The group began chanting, demanding she do something daring as a penalty. Madeline rested her chin on her hand, thinking for a moment before snapping her fingers. “I’ve got it!” “Tristan and I will sleep together tonight, right under Hugh’s nose. How’s that for a thrill?” Amy nudged her nervously. “Hugh has been gone for a while. He could walk back in any second. Be careful.” Madeline rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with disdain. “Please. Hugh is an idiot. He’s incredibly easy to fool.” 2 I pushed the door open, and the rowdy laughter in the room instantly died. Madeline quickly put on a bright, seamless smile, grasping Amy’s hand. “Amy and I haven’t seen each other in nearly eight years, Hugh. We’re moving to New York in the fall, so we won’t get many chances to hang out. I really want to spend tonight with her.” Seeing my silence, Amy offered a tight laugh. “Can’t bear to let her go for one night, Hugh? Don’t be so possessive. Just because she married into your wealthy family doesn’t mean she has to give up her friends.” Madeline’s expression turned cold and defensive. “Hugh, when you proposed, you swore you’d never suffocate me. Now I just want to spend one night with my friend, and you’re acting like this? I married you, Hugh. I didn’t sell myself to you.” The classmates in the room shifted uncomfortably, casting disapproving glances at me. I picked up a stray glass of whiskey from the table and downed it in one swallow. The burn tore down my throat, leaving my voice hoarse. “I didn’t say you couldn’t go. Have fun.” Madeline’s eyes lit up. She stepped over and pressed a brief, sweet kiss to my cheek. “You’re the best, babe.” As her lips brushed my skin, a wave of cheap cologne and stale tobacco washed over me. An overwhelming wave of nausea hit my stomach. I pushed her away, leaning over the trash can in the corner, dry-heaving violently. The music in the room seemed to halt. Madeline’s face twisted in anger. “Hugh, what is your problem?!” Brody stepped forward, trying to ease the tension. “Are you okay, Hugh? Did you have too much to drink?” I forced down the sickness rising in my chest, catching the nervous, calculating look in Brody’s eyes. “I’m fine. Just drank too much on an empty stomach. I need to head back.” Madeline crossed her arms, waiting for me to apologize and coax her like I always did whenever she threw a tantrum. But this time, I remained silent. I had no intention of apologizing to the woman who had just bragged about cheating on me. Brody quickly tried to redirect the room’s attention. “Alright, let’s keep the night going! Tonight isn’t just a reunion, it’s also a bachelor party for Tristan. He’s tying the knot tomorrow.” “Hugh, you and Tristan missed each other by a hair back in high school. You should officially meet.” Tristan stepped forward, extending a hand toward me. “I transferred out in a rush back then, so I never got to meet the guy who took my desk. It’s been ten years, but it’s good to finally meet you. I’m Tristan.” 3 On his ring finger was a simple red string band. I had seen an identical red string ring tucked away in the back of Madeline’s jewelry box a year ago. When I asked about it, she had laughed it off, calling it a cheap high school souvenir. I looked at his face. Tristan’s name had been an omnipresent shadow throughout my high school years. Twelve years ago, my father’s job relocation forced me to transfer to Brightwood Academy. My very first day there was the exact day Tristan transferred out. I was assigned his old desk, and my name took his place at the top of the academic leaderboard. Whenever I aced an exam, the teacher would sigh and say, “If Tristan were still here, you two would be tied for first.” When I won the state track championship, the coach had patted my shoulder and mused, “If Tristan were running, it would have been a real battle.” Even during classroom cleanups, the student council reps would whisper, “From behind, you look exactly like Tristan. Same height, same build.” I had found his picture once in the school archives. He was wearing his varsity jacket, smiling with an easy, radiant confidence. The entire school adored him. Except Madeline. Whenever other girls swooned over his memory, she would scoff, her face contorting with anger. Once, when a group of girls was looking at his old yearbook photo, she had snatched the book, slammed it onto the floor, and stomped on it. “He’s nothing but a cowardly fraud,” she had spat. When we started dating, I asked her why she hated him so much. She had clenched her jaw, her eyes dark. “Because he’s a liar. A complete coward. Everyone is just too blind to see it.” She refused to say anything more. But whenever people compared me to him, she would always snap, “Hugh is Hugh, and Tristan is Tristan. There is no comparison.” I had foolishly believed she was protecting my dignity. Now, I realized she was protecting her own secret. I reached out and shook Tristan’s hand, offering a polite, empty smile. With Brody steering the conversation, the room quickly warmed up again, with classmates crowding around Tristan to ask about his wedding. Madeline’s eyes never left him. There was a look of intense adoration and longing in her gaze—a look she had never once directed at me in our four years of marriage. I sat quietly in the dark corner of the booth, feeling like a ghost at my own table. Someone nudged Madeline, asking if she had prepared a special gift for her old classmate’s wedding. Madeline’s cheeks flushed a light pink, her eyes darting away for a split second. “I’m still putting the finishing touches on it,” she murmured. “But it will definitely be a night to remember.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “450039”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I was beaten into a permanent disability by the school bully. Yet, my father, a star attorney, took the case as the defense lawyer for the main attacker. In court, his words were sharp and flawless as he successfully argued for a verdict of not guilty. He saved the girl who had nearly taken my life. All because the girl’s mother was the benefactor who had sponsored his college education decades ago. When I confronted him, my father stood tall, entirely self-righteous. “Everyone is equal before the law, Tessa,” he said. “I cannot abandon my professional ethics just because my daughter was the victim. Brenda was just impulsive. I couldn’t bear to see her entire life ruined over one mistake.” As I watched the girl walk out of the courthouse, a free woman, a smile stretched across my face. I pulled the disownment papers from my bag—the ones I had prepared days ago—and threw them directly at his face. “Since you value your professional ethics so highly, and since you love repaying favors so much,” I said, “I hope you do a good job defending the rest of your life.” My father didn’t even look at the document. To him, this was just another dramatic tantrum from his teenage daughter. “Have you had enough, Tessa?” He picked up the sheets of paper, crumpling them into a ball without reading a single line, and tossed them into the trash bin. “Tonight, Glenda is hosting a dinner at The Gilded Fork to celebrate. You’re coming with me.” “Brenda will be there too. I’ll have her offer you a proper apology, and we can put this entire mess behind us.” I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. Put it behind us? I was still confined to a wheelchair, and the girl who had shattered my knee had just walked free. And he wanted me to attend her victory dinner? “I’m not going,” I said quietly, turning my wheelchair toward the exit. Behind me, my father’s voice rose, thick with suppressed anger. “Tessa! Can you stop being so incredibly petty? Glenda’s family isn’t wealthy. She spent half her monthly wages on this dinner. If you don’t show up, you’re disrespecting me, and you’re disrespecting her!” I didn’t look back. I wheeled myself forward as fast as my arms could manage, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of his voice. When I rolled past the courthouse doors, the blinding afternoon sun made my head spin. My mother’s sedan was parked at the curb. Seeing me emerge, she scrambled out of the driver’s seat, her face pale and anxious. “Tessa! How did it go? What was the verdict?” Looking at this woman, who had lived her entire life as a quiet shadow in our household, a wave of profound exhaustion washed over me. “Not guilty,” I said. My mother froze, her mouth slightly open. “But… how? Your father said the trial was just a formality. He said he was going to negotiate a suspended sentence. How could she be acquitted?” I let out a dry laugh. “Mom, your husband is a star lawyer. If he wants someone to walk free, they walk free. Even if that person broke his own daughter’s leg.” My mother wrung her hands, her eyes darting away in sheer discomfort. “Well… your father must have had his reasons. Glenda did help him back in the day…” “Save it,” I interrupted, cutting her off. “Take me to the hospital. I’m not going home.” She hesitated, glancing back at the courthouse steps. “Actually… your father texted me. He wants us to head straight to The Gilded Fork. He said if we don’t show up, he’ll freeze my credit cards.” I stared at her. Fifty years old, and she lived like a dog on a leash, entirely dependent on my father’s money, never daring to raise her voice. “Then you should go,” I said, pulling out my phone to hail an accessible rideshare. “I’ll go by myself.” “Tessa, please don’t be like this—” She reached out to grab my arm, but I yanked it away. “Mom, if you still want to be my mother, do not go to that dinner. If you go, don’t ever bother coming to see me again.” My ride pulled up to the curb. The driver quickly got out, gently helping me into the passenger seat. Through the glass window, I saw my mother standing on the pavement, her face twisted in agonizing conflict. But in the end, she let out a quiet sigh, turned back to her sedan, and drove off. She headed toward the restaurant. I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall in the silence of the car. This was my family. A self-righteous saint for a father, and a weak, submissive coward for a mother. And I was nothing but an inconvenient casualty in their lives. Shortly after I was settled into my hospital bed, my phone began to buzz incessantly. I opened social media. Brenda had posted a photo album of her celebration dinner. In the pictures, she was raising a champagne glass, her face flushed red with joy. My father sat at the head of the table, offering his signature warm, distinguished smile. Her caption read: Thank you, Uncle Victor! Justice may be delayed, but it is never denied! Cheers! Justice? What a joke. I opened the comments. They were filled with congratulations from her friends. Brenda is queen! Attorney Victor is legendary! Where’s the cripple? Didn’t she come to pour the drinks? Brenda had replied: Probably crying in her bedroom, haha. My fingers shook against the screen. Suddenly, a notification popped up. A bank transfer of two thousand dollars from my father. His note read: Stop throwing tantrums. Use this to buy yourself something nice. I told Glenda she doesn’t have to worry about your medical expenses. Their family is struggling, and we need to show some compassion. I stared at the words, a wave of intense nausea rising in my throat. I hurled my phone against the brick wall. 2 I stayed in the hospital for three days. During that time, my father never visited once. Instead, Glenda showed up, clutching a plastic basket filled with bruised, rotting apples. She wore her dusty work uniform, standing awkwardly at the entrance of my room. “Tessa,” she said, placing the basket on my nightstand. She rubbed her calloused hands together. “Brenda is just a kid. Sometimes she gets rough and doesn’t know her own strength. I’ve already scolded her.” “Look, your father got her off, so let’s call it even, okay?” Even? I stared at the decaying apples she had likely picked up from a bargain bin. A dry laugh caught in my throat. “My leg is worth a basket of rotten garbage?” Glenda’s face hardened, but she quickly forced her polite smile back on. “Oh, Tessa, you shouldn’t talk like that. When your father was in college, I scraped together every penny to keep him fed. People need to show some gratitude. Look at how reasonable your father is.” “Besides, your family has plenty of money. You don’t need us to pay for your hospital bills. My Brenda still needs to get married, she can’t be carrying a debt.” In that moment, I understood the depths of human shamelessness. This family was a nest of leeches, and my father was the idiot who kept offering them his veins. “Get out,” I said, pointing at the door. “Take your garbage and get the hell out of my room.” Glenda’s smile vanished. “What an insolent, disrespectful brat. No wonder Brenda had to teach you a lesson.” She snatched her basket, muttering curses under her breath, and spat on the linoleum floor before slamming the door behind her. I pressed the call button, asking the nurse to come in and disinfect the room. It was repulsive. That afternoon, the head nurse came in, a worried look on her face as she held an invoice. “Tessa… your account is overdrawn. If we don’t receive a payment soon, we’ll have to stop your medications.” I blinked. “Overdrawn? Did my father… did Victor not pay the deposit?” The nurse shook her head. “He came by yesterday and withdrew the fifty-thousand-dollar pre-payment. He said… he said the other family was facing financial difficulties, so he was lending them the money to help them get by. He told us you could cover the hospital bills with your own savings.” A loud ringing filled my ears. The last thread of my patience snapped. He had taken my medical funds and handed them to the girl who had crippled me. Was this the act of a biological father? With trembling hands, I borrowed the nurse’s phone and dialed his number. It rang for a long time before connecting. In the background, I could hear the clatter of tiles and my father’s booming laughter. “Hello? Who is this?” “It’s me.” The line went quiet for a second, and then his voice turned sharp and impatient. “Tessa? Where is your phone? Why are you calling from an unknown number?” “Victor, did you withdraw my surgery deposit?” I asked, using his name. “Is that how you speak to your father?” he barked. “Glenda’s family is trying to buy an apartment in the city, and they were short on the down payment. I figured your hospital expenses weren’t that urgent, so I lent them the funds. Don’t you have your own savings? Use that first. Don’t be so incredibly selfish, Tessa. Learn to help those in need.” Help those in need. He was stripping my bones to keep them warm. “That was my surgery money!” I screamed into the receiver. “The surgeon said I need my second reconstructive procedure next week, or I’ll be permanently disabled! You gave my medical funds to Brenda’s family for an apartment? Are you out of your mind?!” Through the line, I heard Glenda’s voice in the background. “Oh, Victor, if Tessa needs it for her leg, we can wait on the apartment…” Then came my father’s firm, reassuring tone. “Don’t listen to her, Glenda. Doctors always exaggerate. It’s not that serious.” “Tessa, figure it out yourself. Stop bothering me.” The line went dead. I stared at the black screen, my body freezing. The nurse cast a look of deep pity in my direction. “Tessa… is there anyone else? Can you call your mother?” My mother? The woman who couldn’t even buy personal items without begging for his permission? I shook my head. “No. Please prepare my discharge papers.” “But your leg—” “I’m done treating it.” Since the world was rotten to the core, I had no reason to play the good daughter anymore. I went back to our house while they were out. I packed up everything that belonged to me, leaving only the signed disownment papers on his desk. My vintage sneaker collection, my limited-edition collectibles, and the small gold bars I had accumulated over the years—I posted them all on online marketplace apps, selling them at a fraction of their value. I only accepted cash. With the money, I rented a small, accessible apartment in a neighboring town and checked myself into a private orthopedic clinic. Though I had missed the optimal window for treatment, the surgeon assured me that with enough therapy, I could walk again, though running or any intense physical activity was out of the question. I had been the captain of my varsity basketball team. Now, I was a cripple. But I didn’t shed a single tear. My tears had run dry that afternoon in the hospital.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “450038”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

“What’s with this tie?” I tossed the brand-new tie, tags still attached, onto the coffee table. Ethan Gray glanced at it without even frowning. “The new management trainee slipped it into my bag when I wasn’t paying attention.” “Mia Smith?” “Who else would be clueless enough to do something like that?” I let out a cold laugh. The entire company knew we were sworn enemies—I slashed his budgets, and he mocked me for not understanding technology. What nobody knew was that we’d been secretly married for seven years and already had a five-year-old child. The next day, she cried in the cafeteria: “President Gray told me privately that he feels suffocated in his marriage…” On the third day, she deliberately scalded herself in the stairwell and tearfully accused me of pushing her. Cyberbullying. Doxxing. Number one on the trending charts. Mia Smith, do you know what an Audit Director does best? —Gather evidence. I found a brand-new tie in Ethan Gray’s briefcase. The pattern was tacky, and the tag was still attached. “Explain this.” I tossed the tie onto the coffee table with a thud. Ethan had just come out of the shower. He glanced at it, and his brow furrowed so deeply you could crush a fly between them. “One of the new management trainees gave it to me.” He toweled his hair while kicking the tie farther away with disgust. “Said she wanted to thank me for teaching her how to write weekly reports. I refused it, but she stuffed it into my bag when I wasn’t looking.” “Mia Smith?” “Who else would be that clueless?” I let out a cold laugh. Not only clueless, but bold too. As the Group Audit Director, my daily job was finding faults. And Ethan was the Group VP of R&D. In the eyes of the company’s thousand-plus employees, we were sworn enemies who couldn’t stand each other. Last month, I had just killed a three-million-dollar budget for the R&D department. Ethan publicly mocked me in a meeting for not understanding technology, and I fired back in the group chat that he didn’t understand compliance. The entire company thought we were at each other’s throats. Who would’ve thought that this cold and aloof VP Ethan heated up milk for me every night and blow-dried my hair? We went from high school uniforms to wedding dresses. Seven years of secret marriage, and we even had a five-year-old child. “Did she pull something again today?” I asked. “Yeah.” Ethan sat down beside me and naturally took the audit report from my hands to help me organize it. “In front of a dozen people, she insisted on reaching over to straighten my collar, saying my tie was crooked.” “You let her touch you?” “I asked her if she wanted to file for workers’ compensation for a workplace injury.” Ethan’s sharp tongue was as reliable as ever. “Then she started crying, saying I was too mean and didn’t understand a young woman’s feelings.” “Feelings?” I picked up that tie. “Giving a male superior such a personal item—that’s sexual harassment.” She’d been on the job less than two months, hadn’t accomplished much, and was putting all her energy into trying to seduce executives. Treating the workplace like a dating game. In my audit red-line standards, this counted as a high-risk uncontrollable factor. “Let’s just throw it away.” Ethan got up to grab the trash can. “Wait.” I stopped him. “It’d be such a waste to throw it away.” “What are you planning?” “We should let everyone see just how ‘polite’ Miss Smith is.” I put the tie back in the bag. Ethan understood the look in my eyes and smiled. “You’re going to mess with her again?” “I’m in audit.” I turned off the living room light, my tone calm. “Tomorrow, keep her away from you. That perfume of hers is giving me a headache.”

The next morning, I brought the bag to the company’s front desk. The receptionist had just finished applying her lipstick. When she saw me, she immediately stood up. “Good morning, Miss Shaw.” “Morning.” I placed the bag on the counter. “Someone left this with Mr. Gray yesterday. Put it in lost and found.” “Okay, should I log who lost it?” “No need.” I adjusted my cuffs. “It’s nothing valuable anyway. If no one claims it, just treat it as scrap.” With that, I swiped my card and entered the elevator. At three in the afternoon, I went to the R&D department to review last quarter’s expense reports. Ethan was discussing architecture with several core team members. I sat at a nearby workstation checking data. Ethan didn’t even glance at me, still stone-faced while reprimanding people. “Who set this parameter? Did water get into their brain?” The engineer being scolded kept his head down, not daring to make a sound. The atmosphere was oppressive. Until a high-pitched voice broke the silence. “Everyone’s working so hard! I bought afternoon tea for you all!” Mia Smith walked in carrying two large bags from Starbucks. She was wearing a knit sweater today with a rather low neckline, bending over to distribute coffee to the engineers around her. “Thanks, Mia!” “Mia, you’re so thoughtful!” Several male colleagues smiled as they accepted the drinks. Mia finally walked to Ethan’s desk and pulled out a delicate little box. It was a pink heart-shaped mousse cake. “Mr. Gray, I made this myself—low sugar, low calorie. I saved it especially for you.” She held the cake with both hands, leaning forward so that half her chest was practically pressed against Ethan’s desk. She even made a point of displaying the sticky note on it, which had a smiley face drawn on it. I closed my folder with a sharp snap. Mia acted as if she’d only just noticed me. “Oh my! Miss Shaw, you’re here too?” She looked at me with an innocent expression. “I’m so sorry, Miss Shaw. I thought you were in the audit department, so I didn’t prepare one for you.” The room went quiet for a second. This cheap tactic—I couldn’t even be bothered to respond. “It’s fine.” I said coolly. “I don’t eat street vendor food, and I don’t eat unlicensed products.” Mia’s face froze. “This is my own baking, made with all imported ingredients…” “Without a food business license, it’s an unlicensed product.” I cut her off. “Also, it’s work hours right now.” She bit her lip and looked at Ethan with grievance, her eyes instantly turning red. “Mr. Gray, I just wanted everyone to relax a bit. Why is Miss Shaw targeting me like this…” Ethan finally looked up from his screen. He glanced at the pink cake, then at Mia. His gaze was like he was looking at an idiot. “The R&D department has regulations prohibiting any food or sugary drinks from being brought in.” Ethan’s voice had no warmth whatsoever. “Employee handbook, Chapter 3, Article 5. Did you not memorize it?” Mia froze. “I… I thought it was just afternoon tea…” “Take it out.” Ethan pointed at the door. “Next time I see these non-compliant items on my desk, you’ll disappear along with them.” Mia’s tears actually fell. She picked up the cake and ran out. The surrounding engineers exchanged glances and quickly lowered their heads to drink their coffee, not daring to speak. I reopened my folder and continued checking the data. Ethan turned his head. “Miss Shaw, are you done checking that parameter from earlier?” “Not yet.” I didn’t look up. “This travel expense claim is over budget. Resubmit it.” “Got it. I’ll follow Miss Shaw’s instructions.” There was a trace of barely perceptible amusement in his tone. But I knew Mia definitely wouldn’t let this go. Sure enough, within half an hour, an anonymous post appeared on the company’s internal forum.

That anonymous post hung on the company’s internal forum all afternoon and got a lot of traction. The content was several hundred words long, accusing me of being heartless and not understanding how to care for subordinates. Although no names were mentioned, the label “audit department’s female demon” applied to no one in the entire company except me. In the comments section, several newly registered accounts kept stirring things up: “I heard she’s jealous of that pretty management trainee, so she’s taking it out on Mr. Gray.” “Older women are scary. When their own lives aren’t going well, they can’t stand to see others happy.” When my assistant, Zoe, handed me the tablet, her hands were shaking. “Sarah, do you need me to contact IT to delete the post? This is damaging your reputation…” “No need.” I scrolled through the screen and casually took a few screenshots to save. “Why delete it? This is all evidence.” This level of public opinion attack was nothing—not even an itch to me. As an auditor, I’d seen plenty of dirty things. Compared to that, this kind of venting from a young woman was both childish and low-level. I glanced out the window. Rain was pouring down. The weather forecast showed there would be a major rainstorm tonight. Ethan sent me a message: “Meet at the garage. I have an umbrella.” I packed up my things and headed downstairs. To avoid suspicion, we never left the office together. Usually he’d go get the car first, I’d wait for him, then get in. We’d kept this secret relationship going for seven years. I arrived at the garage. Ethan’s car was already parked in a corner. I opened the back door and quickly slipped inside. The windows had the darkest privacy film—you couldn’t see inside from outside at all. “This rain is really coming down.” Ethan handed me a dry towel. “Wipe your hair. The entrance had a big draft just now, and you got rained on, didn’t you?” “I’m fine.” I took the towel. “Let’s go.” Ethan had just shifted into gear and hadn’t even pressed the gas when a white figure suddenly rushed out. “Screech—” Ethan slammed on the brakes. My body lurched forward. I frowned and looked ahead. It was Mia Smith. She didn’t have an umbrella. Her white shirt was already soaked through, clinging tightly to her body, with her black bra visible underneath. Her hair was plastered wetly to her face. She looked like a pitiful little white rabbit. She stood in front of the car, blocking the way. If Ethan had reacted a second slower, he might have hit her. “Is she crazy?” Ethan’s tone instantly dropped to freezing. He hated people who didn’t follow traffic rules. Mia came around to the driver’s side and tapped lightly on the window. “Mr. Gray… Mr. Gray…” Her voice was tearful, trembling badly. I sat in the back seat, arms crossed, watching this scene with cold eyes. “Should I open the window?” Ethan glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Go ahead.” I said flatly. “Let’s see what she wants.” Ethan lowered the window. Rain immediately drifted in through the gap. “Mr. Gray.” Mia’s fingers were white from the cold, looking utterly pitiful. “The rain is too heavy. I can’t get a cab, and the garage is so dark. I’m scared being here alone…” As she spoke, she tried to press her soaked chest against the window gap. “Mr. Gray, could you drop me off at the nearest subway station… I’m so cold.” Any other man might have let her in the car. Even if he didn’t drive her home, he’d at least let her get in to escape the rain. Unfortunately for her, she was dealing with Ethan. Ethan had maintained his virtue for so many years—he wouldn’t be seduced that easily. Ethan looked at her calmly. “The company lobby has heating and spare umbrellas.” Ethan’s voice was clear and cold. “The administration department has a contract with a taxi service. The front desk has one-touch cab calling, and the company reimburses the full fare. You don’t need to hail a cab yourself.” Ethan pointed at the dashcam. “My car is a private vehicle. It doesn’t have commercial operating qualifications. My car is only open to my immediate family members.” “Mia Smith, are you my immediate family?” Mia froze. Unwilling to give up, she bit her lip, trembling even harder. “But Mr. Gray… I’m really cold. I feel dizzy right now. Can’t you help me?” She reached for the back door handle. Ethan quickly locked the doors. She pulled twice but couldn’t open it. Unable to see me inside, she could only see her own disheveled reflection. “Mr. Gray?” Ethan’s hand hovered over the window button. “If you’re really sick, I can call 911 for you right now. An ambulance will get here faster than I can.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. Ethan’s mouth was savage. Fortunately, the person outside couldn’t hear me. “Also, as a management trainee, even during off-hours, you need to maintain your professional image.” “Dressed like this, blocking a male superior’s car—if word gets out, it’ll affect your probation evaluation.” Mia’s face turned deathly pale. She instinctively covered her chest and stepped back. “Mr. Gray, how can you think of me like that… I just…” “Move.” Ethan didn’t want to hear any more nonsense. Reluctantly, she bit her teeth and backed away, looking back every few steps. Ethan raised the window and hit the gas. The car rushed into the rain. “Brilliant.” I clapped. “Worthy of Mr. Gray with his excellent sense of boundaries.” Ethan said, “If I’d let her in, I’d have had to get the car deep-cleaned inside and out. Not worth it.” The car merged onto the elevated highway. “Honey.” “Hmm?” “Next time something like this happens, can you handle it directly?” There was a hint of helplessness in Ethan’s tone. “I’d like to see you tear into a homewrecker too. Always making me play the villain.” I said with a smile, “Tearing into her now would be no fun. Let’s wait a bit longer. She’s not going to give up that easily.”

The atmosphere at the company was strange the next day. Several employees huddled together, their eyes occasionally drifting toward me. Back in my office, I logged into the internal network. The anonymous section was lively, as expected. Someone had posted vaguely about last night’s incident. The comments section had a very unified tone—Mr. Gray definitely wanted to help, but didn’t dare. Because the company had an ice queen making all the executives live in fear, worried that one wrong step would get them reported by the audit department. I wore this scapegoat quite steadily. At noon, I went to the cafeteria. It was peak lunch hour. I picked up a tray and deliberately chose a corner seat. Mia Smith was wearing a V-neck knit sweater with a rather low neckline today. At her table sat four other new management trainees. “Mia, are you okay? Why are you coughing so badly?” “I’m fine.” Mia’s voice was soft and sweet, with a heavy nasal tone. “I just got rained on last night and have a slight fever.” “Mr. Gray was really too much, leaving you there alone in that downpour.” “Don’t say that about Mr. Gray.” Mia’s watery eyes were full of protectiveness. “Mr. Gray is actually a very good person. Last night I saw the reluctance in his eyes.” “Then why didn’t he let you in the car?” “Because it wouldn’t be compliant.” Mia sighed. “If Mr. Gray had given me a ride, people might have said he had improper conduct. Wouldn’t that harm him?” “Plus, Mr. Gray sent me a private message on SnapChat to explain.” “He even said he’s been feeling quite oppressed.” I put down my fork. I opened my phone’s recording app. Spreading rumors about the audit department abusing power, fabricating private messages from executives, implying an executive had personal feelings for her. After recording for two minutes, I saved the audio and stood up. “Ahem…” Mia caught sight of me from the corner of her eye and was so startled her spoon clinked against the bowl. “M-Miss Shaw.” The table of trainees immediately fell silent, heads down eating their rice. Mia quickly adjusted her expression. “Hello, Miss Shaw. I just felt a bit dizzy and lost my balance.” She looked up at me with reddened eyes, looking like a scared little white rabbit. “Miss Shaw, you’re eating too? There’s no space here. Maybe you could sit at the next table?” I ignored her performance, my gaze coldly sweeping across her phone screen. “Mia Smith, as a management trainee, what did you score on your onboarding training test?” She paused, then said timidly, “N-ninety-five.” “Then recite the employee code of conduct.” She bit her lip, looking at me blankly. “Spreading false statements in the workplace, discussing company management systems inappropriately, slandering superiors.” I looked down at her from my position. “You just said the audit department is overstepping its bounds? That Mr. Gray has no choice in the matter?” “I… I didn’t mean it like that.” Tears immediately filled her eyes. She waved her hands frantically. “I was just feeling bad that Mr. Gray was being misunderstood. I wanted to help explain…” “Explain?” Ethan walked over. Mia said in a high-pitched voice, “Mr. Gray… Miss Shaw misunderstood me. I was just saying that last night you sent a SnapChat message to care—” Ethan stepped aside. Mia lunged forward into empty air and barely managed to steady herself by grabbing the chair back. Her posture was awkward. Ethan pulled out his phone and directly opened his chat with Mia. The interface was clean, with only one system notification about accepting a friend request. The date was her first day on the job. After that, completely blank. “Mia Smith, I have severe OCD and germaphobia.” Ethan’s voice wasn’t loud, but loud enough for everyone around to hear clearly. “I don’t add random people, I don’t respond to nonsense, and I definitely wouldn’t send this kind of ambiguous message to an employee who tried to violate protocol by hitching a ride. Do you have delusions?” The cafeteria fell dead silent. The few trainees who had been backing her up moments ago now had faces turning green. Mia’s face flushed like a pig’s liver. Tears hung on her lashes—falling or not falling, both equally awkward. “Mr. Gray… I…” “Also.” Ethan looked at me. “Miss Shaw enforcing compliance is her job.” With that, he didn’t even glance at Mia and turned to leave.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “402762”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I’d been married to Ethan for five years when he took my wedding ring right off my finger to please his mistress. That ring was the only thing my parents left me. I knelt on the floor and begged him to give it back. He didn’t even look at me. He placed it in another woman’s palm and said, “If you like it, it’s yours.” From that day on, I stopped waiting for him to come home, stopped leaving a light on in the dead of night. He brought his mistress home to spend the night and ordered me to buy condoms. I went. He was intimate with her in the master bedroom and made me listen from the room next door. I listened all night long. He had people search me in public, strip my clothes off, and threw me out of the house covered in injuries. I said nothing. Because I still wore the scarf he’d wrapped around my neck when I was eighteen. I’d always thought that was the beginning of love. Later I learned he’d just casually saved someone, and I spent my whole life repaying that debt. Everyone thought I would endure it. But they didn’t know I’d been carrying the divorce agreement he signed on our wedding day with me all along. Five years. I’d finally gathered the courage to take it out and sign my own name.

Sophia’s POV Ever since Ethan took my wedding ring to please his mistress Isabella, I became a different person. I stopped taking meticulous care of Ethan’s life. I stopped sitting at my desk after work every day, waiting for Ethan to finish so we could go home together. I even stopped keeping track of any news about Ethan. Today was Ethan’s birthday. We’d been giving each other the cold shoulder for a week. Last week, Isabella made me a cup of coffee. Not only did I not drink it, I threw the coffee all over her. He thought I was too rude, that it didn’t befit my position. So Ethan took my wedding ring as a way to punish me. I did treasure that ring. In the past, every year on his birthday, I would cook dinner and wait for him at home. But this year I wasn’t planning to celebrate his birthday. Suddenly, I heard the sound of the front door opening. It must be Ethan coming home. I paid no attention. The master bedroom door was slightly ajar. I leaned against the headboard, looking down at a book. He quickly came upstairs and pushed open my door. Hearing the noise, I looked up with a calm expression and just nodded slightly. “You didn’t cook?” Ethan’s face showed some displeasure. I closed the book and explained gently, “I didn’t know you were coming home for dinner tonight. I’ll have Grace do it now.” Grace was the housekeeper. Ethan stared at my face, his brow furrowed. “No need.” He spat out the words coldly and turned to leave. At the doorway, he stopped. “You forgot what day it is.” With that, he strode away. I was stunned for a moment. Then I remembered that today was Ethan’s birthday. From his expression just now, he seemed angry? Impossible. I’d celebrated Ethan’s birthday four times. Every time, I prepared gifts, dinner, and cake with meticulous care. And the result? The gifts were casually set aside without even unwrapping. He didn’t touch the food, and it was thrown in the trash the next day. How could someone like Ethan be angry that I didn’t celebrate his birthday? He should be happy. I took a breath and opened my book again. I guessed Ethan was probably going to find Isabella right now. After all, in five years of marriage, the days he’d actually stayed in this house added up to less than a month. But not long after, the door was pushed open again. Ethan had returned, his expression considerably softer than before. He stood by the bed, his tone gentler. “I’ll stay home tonight. Keep you company.” Before I could speak, his phone rang in his pocket. Isabella’s name appeared on the screen. Ethan hesitated, but still answered. The woman’s sweet, coquettish voice drifted out and into my ears. I watched as Ethan turned his back, lowering his voice to comfort his mistress. When he hung up, I spoke. “You don’t need to stay with me. Miss Hart is young and afraid of the dark. She can’t sleep alone. I’m fine. You should go.” Ethan froze. These were the very words he’d said to me in the past when he was about to go find Isabella. I’d given them right back to him, word for word. Ethan didn’t love me. His grandfather Richard had forced him to marry me. “Fine. Isabella needs me.” His tone was somewhat stiff. “Don’t bully her again.” “I won’t.” I shook my head repeatedly. “Last time was my fault. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with her. Go on, don’t keep her waiting.” His face turned ashen as he turned and strode away. The next day, at the Carter estate. I knelt before Richard. “Grandfather, five years are up. I want to leave.” His hair was white, but his eyes were still bright. “Are you sure? You really want to go? You don’t love him anymore?” “Yes, I’m sure.” My expression was serious. “Ethan doesn’t love me. Why should we keep tormenting each other?” Richard sighed. “I was wrong back then.” “He does have feelings for you in his heart. He just hasn’t realized it himself.” He waved his hand. “Ah, he’s not worthy of being your husband.” He called over the butler and gave a few quiet instructions. After a while, the butler came over with a document envelope and handed it to me. “This is what you wanted. Also, I’ve prepared a new identity for you and some money.” He looked at me, his expression full of reluctance. “You’ll leave in a week.” “Remember, leave quietly. Don’t let Ethan know.” “Otherwise, you won’t be able to leave.” My eyes grew hot, and I nodded emphatically. Back in the car, I opened the envelope. The words “Divorce Agreement” at the top stung my eyes until they felt sore. I flipped to the last page. Ethan’s signature was right there. He’d signed this divorce agreement on the very day we got our marriage certificate. I stared at his signature for a long time, then suddenly laughed. Ethan, in a week, I won’t stand in your way anymore. From now on, you can love whoever you want. I’ll never be your obstacle again.

Sophia’s POV I returned home and started packing. Over these five years, Ethan had given me many things. But they were all bought by his assistant, given to Mrs. Carter, not to me as a person. Whoever was Mrs. Carter would receive these gifts. So my luggage was simple. A small twenty-inch suitcase held everything I owned. After packing, I started disposing of the old things in the house. The cufflinks I’d bought him with my own salary. The scarf I’d knit by hand. The throw pillows I’d purchased. Among these things, some Ethan had glanced at once, but more had never been looked at, just casually discarded. I had to quietly put them away myself, storing them in the closet. At the very top of the closet was a scarf. It was the only scarf I’d ever knit in my life. I’d followed a tutorial for three full months. I unraveled it when I made mistakes, unraveled it when the stitches were uneven. By the end, my fingers had swollen twice their normal size. But when I gave it to Ethan, he didn’t even unwrap it. He said a bland “thank you” and never wore the scarf. I held the scarf in my arms and gave a bitter laugh. I retrieved another scarf from the very back of the closet. That one was from Ethan. In the winter of my freshman year, my parents were on their way to visit me at school when they encountered a multi-car pileup. They died at the scene. That year, I was eighteen. The night after the funeral, I sat alone by the campus lake, from dusk until deep into the night. The lake water was pitch black, lapping at the shore in waves. I thought, if I jumped in, would I stop being cold? Would I be able to see Mom and Dad? I was inching little by little toward the lake when I heard footsteps behind me. “Hey.” I looked up into a stern face. I recognized him. Finance department senior, Ethan Carter. The whole school knew him. Heir to Carter Corporation. His grades were excellent. After graduation, he was going to work on Wall Street. He and I were from two different worlds. Ethan looked at my red-rimmed eyes, unwrapped his own scarf and wrapped it around my neck, then wiped the tears from my face. “Staying alive is what matters most.” Those words pulled me back from the lake’s edge. After that day, the name Ethan Carter was etched into my heart. I began quietly paying attention to everything about him. Where he had classes each day, what time he went to the library to study. I knew it all. I never thought I’d have any real connection with him. One was the heir to Carter Corporation, the other an orphan who’d lost both parents. I knew I wasn’t good enough for him. I just wanted to see him from afar. That was enough. The year of graduation, I submitted my resume to Carter Corporation. On the day of the interview, at the entrance to the Carter Building, I saw an elderly man clutch his chest and collapse. I immediately rushed over to perform CPR and call an ambulance. That old man was Richard. When he woke up, he saw the scarf around my neck. “Ah,” Richard said, “Isn’t that scarf Ethan’s?” I instinctively nodded. He asked again, “You know him?” My face instantly flushed red. I couldn’t help lowering my head. Richard looked at me and smiled kindly, patting the back of my hand. “I’ll have Ethan marry you. Are you willing?” I thought I’d misheard. “He doesn’t know me.” “I can see you’re very kind. Ethan has a terrible personality. He might never meet someone who truly loves him in his entire life.” “I can tell you’re a good girl.” “I believe you’ll be a good wife.” In the end, I didn’t refuse him. I hadn’t expected Ethan to strongly oppose marrying me.

Sophia’s POV Richard was so angry he fell ill and was admitted to the ICU. He said, “Just consider it marrying her for my sake. Live with her for five years. After five years, if you still don’t love her, you can divorce.” Ethan loved Richard dearly. He agreed. But to make his position clear, on the first day of marriage, Ethan had a lawyer draft divorce papers, signed them, and handed them to his grandfather. At the wedding, when I heard him say “I do,” I actually felt hope. I thought five years would be enough. If I tried my best to love him and treat him well, one day he would see me. For five years after the wedding, I did everything I could for him. When he traveled for business, I packed his suitcase with clothes. When he had business dinners, no matter how late, I waited for him on the sofa at home. But I hadn’t expected Ethan to be ice that could never be melted. We only saw each other at the office. He never ate the food I cooked. He never accepted the water I offered. A year ago, Isabella appeared. At first, Ethan still considered my position and didn’t let Isabella appear in public. Later, one phone call from Isabella could summon him away. Isabella could freely enter and exit his CEO office. He started bringing Isabella to public events while I, Mrs. Carter, became a joke. Last week, I went to Ethan’s office to deliver documents and ran right into Isabella coming out. She was holding a cup of hot coffee, raising her eyebrows at me. “Long time no see, Mrs. Carter.” Isabella laughed softly. “I heard Ethan hasn’t been home in over a month? Why haven’t you figured out your situation yet?” Before I could respond, Isabella flicked her wrist and splashed the scalding coffee on herself. She fell backward, clutching the doorframe and crying. “I just wanted to bring you coffee. Why did you push me?” Ethan heard the commotion and rushed out, pulling Isabella into his arms. He looked up at me, his eyes ice-cold. “Sophia, apologize to her.” It was the first time he’d casually punished me. “I didn’t push her.” I shook my head. “Still making excuses.” Ethan’s face darkened. “Do you think being my wife gives you the right to bully people?” Isabella clutched his sleeve, crying. “Ethan, don’t blame her. I shouldn’t have appeared by your side. She’s your wife. She’s still wearing your wedding ring…” Ethan looked at the tears in Isabella’s eyes, then turned to glare at me furiously. “If you won’t apologize, you don’t need to wear the ring either.” He raised his hand and a bodyguard stepped forward, forcibly removing my wedding ring. My finger was scraped, blood flowing freely. Ethan didn’t even glance at me. He placed the ring in Isabella’s palm. “If you like it, it’s yours.” He carried Isabella out of the office without looking back at me. That day, I finally understood. Five years, over eighteen hundred days and nights. I was nothing but trash to him. I looked at the two scarves. One he gave me, which I treasured. One I gave him, which he treated as garbage. Just like our positions in this relationship. I reached up to touch my empty ring finger. A tear dropped onto the scarf. Thank goodness, the five years were over. Thank goodness, I got that agreement he’d signed. Next week I could leave. From then on, Ethan and I would have no connection. I took everything from the closet, including both scarves, and threw them in the trash.

Sophia’s POV The next day was Richard’s eightieth birthday banquet. He was the person in the Carter family who treated me best. For five years, I’d been in charge of Richard’s birthday, and this year was no exception. Guest list, menu, seating arrangements, decoration process. I handled each item. That day, I arrived very early. When the banquet began and guests started arriving, Ethan appeared. I hadn’t expected him to come with someone. Holding his arm was Isabella in a wine-red low-cut gown. Her hair was pinned up high, her makeup exquisite. Her bright eyes gazed at Ethan as if she were his wife. The two walked into the hall side by side. They looked like the married couple. Isabella glanced at me, the arrogance and pride in her eyes unconcealed. Murmurs from the surrounding guests immediately rose up. “Isn’t that Miss Hart? Ethan actually brought her back. Mrs. Carter…” “With so many people here today, isn’t this humiliating his actual wife?” My expression remained calm as I continued chatting warmly with each guest. Richard sat in the seat of honor, seeing everything clearly. Ethan approached, wanting to offer some birthday wishes to Richard. Richard leaned on his cane, his eyes landing on Isabella. “Who is this?” he asked coldly. Ethan glanced at me. “This is my secretary. I just came from the office and brought her along.” Richard looked at him coldly. “Today is my birthday. Did you get my permission to bring your secretary? You’re incredibly rude!” Ethan’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing. I saw his chest rising and falling violently and quickly stepped forward to soothe Richard. “Please don’t be angry. Today is your birthday. Don’t let these small matters upset you.” His expression finally eased a bit. He patted my hand and sighed. “Sophia still cares about me.” Ethan stood nearby, watching this scene, his eyes darkening. Ethan coldly averted his gaze and led Isabella away to mingle with guests. When some guests saw Isabella, they politely looked her over and said with a smile, “Mr. Carter, this young lady at your side is quite elegant.” Ethan didn’t deny it, just tugged his lips slightly. Isabella was delighted, leaning into his arm and looking up at him with a smile. He didn’t dodge or stop her. His gaze kept involuntarily looking in my direction. I pretended not to see his eyes, continuing to greet guests with a smile, my manner composed. If this were before, seeing this scene would have made my eyes turn red. But this time, I did nothing. Halfway through the banquet, Ethan left to take a call. Isabella took the opportunity to walk over to me, her tone light. “Mrs. Carter, let me tell you something.” She pointed at my hand. “That ring of yours? I put it on my dog’s collar. My dog really likes that ring.” I looked at her and laughed softly. “As long as you like it.” Isabella’s smile froze. She wanted to see me angry, but didn’t, and a hint of gloom flashed in her eyes. Isabella slowly backed away, quietly approaching the long table behind her with its champagne tower, and grabbed a corner of the tablecloth. The next second, the champagne tower collapsed with a crash. Dozens of glasses with liquid rushed toward Isabella and me. Guests shrieked. Not far away, Ethan’s face changed dramatically as he rushed over. “Isabella!” He rushed toward Isabella, pulling her into his arms to protect her. Glass shards and champagne crashed toward me. I couldn’t dodge in time and could only raise my arms to protect my head and face. The massive impact knocked me to the ground. Glass fragments pierced my arms and shoulders. Blood quickly soaked through my dress. In the last moment before losing consciousness, I saw Ethan holding Isabella tightly in his arms, anxiously calling her name. That embrace had no place for me, and never had.

Sophia’s POV When I woke again, I was in my bedroom at home. I opened my eyes, not fully conscious yet. Ethan sat by the bed, looking somewhat tired. I was startled, not expecting him to be there. Seeing me wake, Ethan’s expression softened slightly. “You’re awake? You have superficial injuries. The doctor has already bandaged them.” In my mind, I kept seeing how Ethan had rushed toward Isabella without hesitation before I fainted. I lowered my eyes and said softly, “Sorry for worrying you. I’m fine.” My tone was polite. Ethan’s face froze again. He continued, “You’re my wife. Such a major incident at the banquet. Not only did you hurt yourself, you nearly hurt other guests. Do you understand what you did wrong?” My heart ached dully. The guest he meant was Isabella. He was blaming me for hurting Isabella. I’d seen clearly that Isabella had deliberately pulled the tablecloth. If this were before, I definitely would have defended myself and explained what happened. But I remembered how he’d rushed toward Isabella, how he’d protected her in his arms. Even if I said something, would he believe me? He wouldn’t believe me. The one who isn’t favored, whatever they say is just excuses. The more I said, the more unreasonable I would seem, and I’d only cause myself more trouble. I lowered my head. “Yes, I was wrong. Tomorrow I’ll accept my punishment.” Ethan paused. Before, I would act cute to avoid punishment. So in five years, he’d never actually punished me. This time I didn’t want to act cute. I wanted to completely sever ties with him. Ethan’s face also grew cold. “Good. You ruined Richard’s banquet. You should be punished. Don’t come to the office tomorrow. Stay home under house arrest.” After speaking, he stood up in anger and strode out. I watched his departing back and closed my eyes. The next day, Ethan really did send someone. I didn’t recognize the man who came. I’d never seen him. His face looked somewhat fierce. As soon as he entered, he told me to kneel. So the punishment he mentioned also involved being beaten. I knelt quietly on the living room floor without a word. The man with the rod raised his hand and struck me hard. My injuries from yesterday hadn’t healed yet. After the first strike, my whole body swayed. After the third strike, I had no strength left to support myself and collapsed on the floor. Grace couldn’t help stepping forward. “Sir, Mrs. Carter still has injuries. Could you be gentler? At this rate, she’ll die!” The man glanced at Grace and sneered coldly. “Who do you think you are? Mrs. Carter is accepting punishment. Is it your place to speak? Say one more word and you’ll be punished too!” Afraid Grace would be implicated, I forced myself to raise my hand. “Grace, go.” Grace wiped her tears and backed out, turning back with every step. The rod continued to fall. I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. I thought, so Ethan really could actually go through with this. I remembered the lakeside eight years ago, the scarf he’d handed me. So from that moment until now, he’d never truly seen me. The man I’d loved for over eight years wouldn’t even let me walk through these last few days in peace. My vision darkened inch by inch. When the last blow fell, I heard something inside me shatter and something else fall into place. I finally closed my eyes and lost consciousness.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “402761”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I trapped myself at that grave for six years. I thought that as long as I didn’t leave, my son’s name would stay engraved alongside mine forever. But with just one signature, Shaun made Veronica my son’s “mother.” Even when I fell down the steps, the woman he reached out to support was someone else. I picked up the blood-stained handwritten letter and finally understood. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand. He simply didn’t care. So I stopped fighting. I took my son’s memorial album, photos of the old gravestone, and the wedding ring that held the memory of our family of three. This time, I would be the one to leave first. Lena POV I had stayed by my son’s grave for so many years, only for Shaun to personally give my place as mother on the headstone to Veronica. When the cemetery called, I was packing things for the memorial service. The staff member said the old cemetery section’s registration and annual maintenance fees would be discontinued soon, and my child’s ashes were being relocated to the Shaw family plot. Gripping my phone, I asked, “Who signed off on this?” There was the sound of rustling papers on the other end, then a quiet voice. “Mr. Shaun Shaw.” I didn’t call Shaun. I put the keepsakes in a bag and went straight to the cemetery. At the management office, the staff member pushed documents across to me. The relocation application bore Shaun’s signature. The joint burial plot registration had been changed too. The adjacent burial plots I’d reserved for myself and my child for years had been cancelled. The new registration listed Shaun, Veronica, and my child. A family of three. When I reached the headstone draft, my fingers paused. Below my child’s name, the father’s line read Shaun Shaw. The mother’s line read Veronica Mann. I didn’t throw the documents or make a scene. I simply looked up and said, “I need copies of all of this.” The staff member saw how pale my face had gone and said softly, “Ms. Hayes, would you like to sit down for a moment?” I said, “No need.” I walked out of the management office with the copies and sat on a bench for a few minutes. Years ago, when we lost the baby, Shaun came with me to choose the cemetery. He personally confirmed the inscription and said the plot next to it was reserved for me. Whichever one of us died first would go keep our child company. Later, his visits became less and less frequent. Every year it was me who cleaned the headstone, me who came to remember him, me who left handwritten letters and memorial albums. I guarded that line naming both parents on the old stone like it was the last thing the Shaw family hadn’t taken from me and my child. Now with one signature, Shaun had made Veronica the mother. He’d even taken away the plot where I would have joined my child after death. “Lena Hayes.” Veronica emerged from the other side of the management office, also holding a headstone draft. She didn’t hide. Instead, she walked closer and held the draft up to my face. “You saw it too, didn’t you? The Shaw family has already accepted me. When the child is moved to the Shaw family plot, they can’t very well have an outsider like you presiding over memorial services anymore.” I looked up at her. “What right do you have to touch my son’s grave?” Veronica smiled slightly, her fingertip tapping the mother’s line. “Because Shaun agreed.” Her voice was airy. “He’s going to formalize things with me eventually. The past, people and matters alike, need to be sorted out in advance.” I took out my phone and called Shaun. He answered quickly. Shaun’s voice sounded the same as always. “Why the sudden call? Not feeling well?” I looked at the draft in Veronica’s hands and asked, “Where are you?” “At the office.” “Did you sign the relocation application?” Several seconds of silence. When Shaun spoke again, his tone had dropped. “Lena, we’ll talk about this at home. The Shaw family has arrangements to make. Don’t cause a scene at the cemetery.” I looked up. Shaun was walking out of the management office entrance, holding stamped documents. The phone was still pressed to my ear. He saw me too. His expression stiffened for a moment, then he hung up and strode over. “Get in the car first.” He reached for the copies in my hand. I stepped back. Shaun’s brow furrowed. “This is a cemetery. Don’t let the staff see us fighting.” I stared at him. “Why did you list Veronica as my son’s mother?” Shaun didn’t answer. He only said, “Moving him back to the Shaw family plot was going to happen eventually. Veronica will be joining the Shaw family in the future. The cemetery needs her to handle things.” “That child was born from my body.” Shaun seemed irritated by that statement. His voice grew heavy. “No one’s denying you gave birth to him. The headstone inscription is just an external arrangement. Stop torturing yourself over a child who’s already gone.” Veronica stood nearby, saying softly, “Shaun, don’t upset Lena. She just needs time to accept this.” The management office staff were still waiting by the entrance for him to confirm the service time. I put the copies in my bag and asked nothing more. I went to the old grave and photographed the original inscription, then set down my keepsakes. On the headstone, my name and Shaun’s were still engraved side by side beneath our child’s name. That was the last time. As I got in the car to leave, the door had just closed when I saw in the rearview mirror Shaun turning back to Veronica’s side.

Lena POV After returning home, I didn’t smash anything or wait for Shaun’s explanation. I backed up all the cemetery documents, old headstone photos, and new headstone drafts to the cloud, then sent them to a backup email. Then I pulled out my ID documents, bank cards, regular medications, and property documents, placing them one by one in the back of the drawer. This house still contained Shaun’s clothes, cups, and car keys. I gathered only what I absolutely needed to take when I left. That afternoon, Veronica sent photos. The first showed a Shaw family dinner. Shaun sat beside the family elders, Veronica on his other side, jewelry on her wrist, place cards on the table. The second was a close-up of the headstone draft. Veronica had circled the mother’s line and added a message: From now on I’ll accompany Shaun to memorial services. You won’t have to work so hard every year anymore. I looked at them, then saved the photos. Veronica wasn’t the only one stirring things up. The Shaw family had long since treated her as someone about to join the family. Even relocating the child had become part of establishing her position. That evening, Shaun came home. As he entered, he asked as usual, “Have you eaten?” He reached out to touch my hair. I turned aside to avoid him. Shaun’s hand froze mid-air, his expression souring. “About the cemetery, I shouldn’t have kept it from you today.” He said, “But moving back to the Shaw family plot has always been part of the family’s plans. I didn’t want you to keep suffering over the old grave every year.” I looked at him. “Was making Veronica the mother also for my benefit?” Shaun’s tone hardened. “Veronica will be part of the Shaw family eventually. The cemetery needs someone who can handle things long-term.” “So I’m not that person anymore?” Shaun frowned. “Lena, don’t overthink this. Everyone knows you gave birth to him.” “What good is knowing?” My voice wasn’t raised. “I won’t be on the headstone. My name won’t be on the service list either. When people come to pay respects in the future, they’ll only see you, Veronica, and the child.” Shaun grew irritated, loosening his tie. “What exactly do you want?” I didn’t argue further. I nodded once and turned to go upstairs. In the living room, Shaun’s phone lit up. Veronica messaged urging him to confirm the relocation service roster with the Shaw family tomorrow. Shaun glanced upstairs and replied with two words: Got it. The next day, I went to the bank. Money had been withdrawn from our joint account to cover Shaw family plot fees and the three-person burial registration. I printed the statement and retrieved documents from the safety deposit box. Just as I left the bank, Shaun’s assistant called. “Ms. Hayes, the Shaw family is hosting a dinner tonight. The family elders want to see you.” Holding that statement, I suddenly understood. This dinner wasn’t to acknowledge me. It was to make me stay quiet before Veronica joined the family and before the child’s relocation. That evening at the Shaw family dinner, Veronica sat beside Shaun’s mother. The family elders didn’t mention her relationship with Shaun directly, only saying, “Moving the child is the Shaw family’s decision. Stop blocking it. The person’s been gone for years. The living need to look forward.” Veronica kept her eyes lowered, her voice gentle. “Please rest assured, I’ll honor the child properly from now on.” Shaun spoke for me. “The service will proceed as planned.” I looked at each person at the table. They had already decided for me who would honor my child, how the inscription would read, whether I should appear. I didn’t make a scene at dinner. I only took a photo of the gathering before leaving. On the drive back, Shaun tried to smooth things over. “Once the relocation is finished, I’ll take you away for a break.” I didn’t ask if Veronica would be going. I had the driver stop by the roadside, saying I needed to buy something. After getting out, I went into a print shop and made another copy of the documents, statements, and cemetery papers. That night, Veronica’s call came through to Shaun’s phone. I stood at the staircase landing, hearing Veronica say, “Don’t let Lena go to the old cemetery section alone before the service. It’ll look bad if the family elders see.” Shaun lowered his voice. “I’ll watch her.” I didn’t walk out. I returned to my room, booked a train ticket for three days later, and messaged an old friend asking if I could stay temporarily in Boston. Downstairs, Shaun was still reassuring Veronica. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle things on her end.”

Lena POV I didn’t sleep all night. I enlarged the Shaw family dinner photo Veronica had sent and finally noticed a group photo in the corner. In it, Shaun stood beside his mother, Veronica on the other side, her face half-hidden by a flower arrangement, but the jewelry on her wrist identical to what she wore in today’s photo. I scrolled back through Veronica’s account. Two years ago, Veronica had already attended a Shaw family dinner. That day had been my child’s memorial day. Shaun said something urgent had come up and he couldn’t accompany me to the cemetery. I sat alone at the old grave until dark. When I returned home the food had gone cold, and he still hadn’t come back. That night Veronica had posted a photo. It showed fireworks outside a car window, captioned: Someone watched the most beautiful night view of the year with me. The hand visible inside the car wore the watch Shaun usually wore. I screenshot each one. When he said business dinner, Veronica was at the same private club. When he said business trip, Veronica was in the airport VIP lounge. When he said Shaw family matters were keeping him busy, Veronica had already accompanied him to celebrate a family elder’s birthday. By dawn, Shaun pushed open the study door to see the desk covered with printed screenshots. His expression darkened. “What have you been doing all morning?” I didn’t collect them. “Two years ago on the child’s memorial day, why didn’t you come home?” Shaun paused. “The Shaw family had something urgent come up.” I pushed the car window fireworks photo toward him. “This is what the Shaw family needed?” Shaun glanced at it, his tone cooling. “Lena, what’s the point of digging through all this? Veronica and I were just ordinary friends back then.” “That day was our child’s memorial day.” Shaun was silent for several seconds, finally only saying, “I don’t remember clearly.” I nodded and gathered the screenshots. The doorbell rang shortly after. Veronica stood at the entrance wearing the house slippers I kept by the door, holding a roster. She came in like the lady of the house and placed the roster on the coffee table. “Shaun, I’ve finished organizing the relocation service roster. There will be many family elders. If Lena attends, everyone will feel awkward.” I looked down. I wasn’t on the roster. I asked Shaun, “Is this what you want?” Veronica coughed lightly. “Lena, I’m just worried it would look bad if matters concerning the child caused trouble in front of the family elders. If you want to see him, you can go after the service ends. It’s the same thing.” Shaun looked at me. “Don’t go to the service for now. After the relocation, I’ll go with you privately.” I took out my phone and photographed the roster. Veronica’s eyes shifted. She walked to the cabinet and saw the duplicate memorial album I’d prepared for my child. She reached for it. I blocked her first. Veronica laughed. “I should keep these from now on. The mother’s name on the headstone is being changed. If you keep too much, it won’t look appropriate when outsiders see.” I held the memorial album to my chest. “Don’t touch my son’s things.” Veronica’s eyes immediately reddened as she turned to look at Shaun. Shaun frowned. “Lena, Veronica’s just trying to organize the service properly. Don’t treat her like an enemy.” I didn’t argue. I carried the memorial album upstairs. I placed the memorial album, old headstone photos, cemetery documents, Shaw family dinner photos, and Veronica’s old social media screenshots in the same document folder, then took out my wedding ring and bank card. The inside of the ring was engraved with Shaun’s and my initials, with our child’s birth month beside them. Downstairs, Shaun was still discussing seating arrangements with Veronica. I put the ring in the top of the document folder, locked it, and began packing the last batch of clothes. When Shaun came upstairs, I had just closed my suitcase. His expression changed. “What are you trying to pull now?” “Packing some clothes I don’t often use.” Shaun reached to open the case. I pressed down on the latch. “I’m packing my own things. Do you need to inspect those too?” Shaun stared at me. “Before the relocation service, you’d better not do anything that embarrasses the Shaw family.” Downstairs, Veronica was calling for him. Shaun glanced at me and turned to go downstairs. As soon as the door closed, I took the train ticket from the closet compartment and put it in the document folder.

Lena POV While Shaun was out, I took the document folder to the old cemetery section. I wanted to collect the things I’d left at my child’s grave over the years before the relocation. But when I reached the grave, it was already empty. The handwritten letters I’d left every year, duplicate memorial albums, old toys, keepsakes. All gone. Staff members were putting the last few items into bags. I hurried over. “Who told you to touch these?” The staff member looked helplessly toward the distance. Veronica stood there holding the new headstone draft. She walked over, her tone so light it sounded apologetic. “Lena, I’m just organizing the cemetery section in advance for the Shaw family. The family elders will all be here for the relocation. It wouldn’t look good for them to see these old things.” I looked at her. “Where are the memorial albums and handwritten letters?” “The staff collected them.” Veronica said, “Whether they can be retrieved depends on procedure.” I immediately turned to chase the waste collection truck. Behind me, Veronica said, “Once the child enters the Shaw family plot, memorial services can’t follow just your personal habits anymore.” She held the new headstone draft up to me. “Take another look. The mother’s line has been confirmed according to Shaun’s wishes.” I didn’t take it. I stopped the waste collection truck and had the staff dig out several creased memorial albums and a stack of handwritten letters. The albums contained the first version of my child’s old headstone photo and the words I’d written each year. Some pages had torn corners. I clutched the items to my chest, my fingertips trembling. Veronica followed. “It’s best not to bring these to the new cemetery section in the future. The Shaw family has its rules. You can’t just display any old papers and letters.” “Give them back.” I looked up at her. “Everything you had removed, give it all back to me.” Veronica didn’t return anything. She only said, “I’ll prepare a proper set of keepsakes later. I won’t let Shaun and the family lose face.” I stepped closer. “Veronica, touch my son’s things again and I won’t let you off.” Veronica’s eyes immediately reddened. She stepped back half a step, as if frightened. That’s when Shaun arrived. He saw me clutching the memorial albums, Veronica standing nearby trembling, the grave site in disarray. His first words were to Veronica. “Are you alright?” Veronica shook her head, her voice choking. “I’m fine. Lena probably still can’t accept the relocation.” I held the memorial albums up to Shaun. “Look closely. These are what I’ve written to our child over the years. She had people throw them in the waste collection truck.” Shaun only glanced at them before his frown deepened. “Clearing old items before relocation was always part of the plan. Veronica was just handling it in advance. Did you really need to make such a scene?” I looked at him. “The handwritten letters are part of procedure too?” Shaun fell silent, his tone suppressing impatience. “The child’s been gone for so many years. You staying trapped in these things isn’t good for anyone.” Veronica stood behind him, saying softly, “Lena, I’ll honor him properly for you from now on.” I smiled slightly. I asked Shaun, “You really want her to do what a mother should do in my place?” Shaun’s expression darkened. “Don’t say such ugly things at a cemetery. The service has been announced to the family elders. The roster has been sent out. If you make trouble now, you’ll only disturb the child’s rest.” I said nothing more. I put the recovered handwritten letters in my bag and photographed the cleared grave site and the waste truck number. Before leaving, I looked back at the old headstone. My name was still on it. But Shaun was already standing beside Veronica. He didn’t follow me.

Lena POV When I got home, I spread the recovered memorial albums on the table. Shaun followed me in. His first words weren’t to ask if I’d been frightened, but rather, “Stop going to the old cemetery section alone from now on. Don’t give Veronica and the family the wrong idea.” I pushed the memorial album toward him. “Do you remember the day we buried our child? The first letter. You personally placed it in the box at the grave.” Shaun looked at those crumpled pages, his expression pausing for a moment. I continued, “How can you let Veronica throw these things away now?” Shaun avoided my gaze. “She didn’t know about your past habits. I’ll have someone find everything that can be recovered.” “What about the relocation application? The mother’s inscription? The three-person burial registration? Which of those did she not know about?” Shaun grew impatient, his voice turning cold. “Moving the deceased child into the Shaw family plot has always been on the family’s agenda. The inscription and registration are for convenience in future memorial services.” I looked at him. “Convenient enough to remove me from being called mother?” Shaun tugged at his collar. “No one can change the fact that you gave birth to him. But headstones are for outsiders to see. The Shaw family needs to move forward too.” He spoke smoothly. As if all my years of memorial services, fee payments, and handwritten letters were just me unable to let go. “Veronica will spend her life with me from now on.” Shaun said. “You can’t demand that everyone stay stuck in the past.” I looked down and closed the memorial album page by page. Veronica’s video call came through at that moment. Shaun saw the incoming call and frowned, not answering. I said, “Answer it.” On screen, Veronica’s eyes were rimmed with red. Behind her were memorial flower baskets and place cards for the relocation service. “Shaun, I know Lena’s unhappy.” Her voice was so soft it sounded tearful. “If she really can’t accept it, I can keep a lower profile tomorrow. But all the family elders know I’ll be participating. If I suddenly don’t go, what will they think?” Shaun’s previously tense face quickly softened. Veronica continued, “I’m the one who’ll spend life with you from now on. If I can’t even participate in matters concerning the child, how will the Shaw family view me?” After a moment of silence, Shaun said, “Proceed as originally planned.” I stood right there watching him say it. After the video ended, I asked nothing more. I divided the items on the table into two portions. One contained cemetery documents, headstone drafts, burial plot registration, bank statements, Veronica’s old social media screenshots, and the service roster. The other held ID documents, train tickets, bank cards, and property documents. That evening, Shaun stayed in the study confirming the guest list. While he wasn’t in the bedroom, I put the last few clothes, regular medications, and documents in my suitcase. The train ticket was for two days later. Just in time to avoid the Shaw family dinner the day before the relocation service. The next day, I went to the cemetery management office to request a suspension of the relocation. After checking the system, the staff member said quietly, “Ms. Hayes, the Shaw family has already paid all fees and sent out service notifications. You can only submit an objection now. You can’t stop it on the spot.” I said, “Give me a receipt.” The receipt had just been handed to me when Shaun arrived. His expression was stormy. “Why are you still causing trouble at the cemetery?” “I’m only submitting an objection.” Shaun took the receipt and tore it up on the spot. “Proceed as planned,” he told the staff member. Paper scraps fell to the ground. I bent down and picked them up one by one. Seeing my action, Shaun’s tone softened. “After the relocation ends, I’ll go with you to the new cemetery section. I’ll also have Veronica stay out of matters concerning the child.” I put the scraps in my bag. “Once her name is carved on the stone, what’s the point of staying out of it then?” Shaun didn’t answer. His phone lit up again. Veronica was asking if the service flower arrangements needed changing. Shaun looked down to check. I smiled slightly and turned to leave the management office. After leaving the cemetery, I messaged my old friend. Could the place to stay three days from now be moved up?

Lena POV The day before my child’s memorial day, I went to the old cemetery section early in the morning. I wanted to honor my son one last time in my own way before the relocation. But the grave site had already changed. Memorial flower baskets, fresh flowers, and place cards were all arranged. Shaw family members were checking service details nearby. The keepsakes and handwritten letter I’d brought were stopped by staff. “Before the service, no personal items can be placed at the grave.” I looked at the hand blocking my way, my voice cold. “This is my son’s grave.” Veronica walked over from beside the headstone, her tone gentle. “Lena, give me the things. I’ll arrange everything.” I didn’t move. Veronica looked at the handwritten letter in my hands. “This kind of personal sentiment isn’t appropriate for the Shaw family cemetery section. The child should have a new home from now on.” I looked up. “Move.” Veronica positioned herself to block the steps. “The roster has been confirmed. If you force your way in today, you’ll only make things difficult for Shaun.” I stepped closer. “When did my son become your new home?” The smile faded from Veronica’s face. She lowered her voice. “Whoever’s listed as mother on the headstone has the right to decide how future memorial services are conducted.” I went around her to place the handwritten letter at the grave. Veronica suddenly grabbed my wrist. The handwritten letters scattered across the ground. I bent down to collect them. Veronica took the opportunity to fall backward, knocking over the nearby flower stand. Flowers spilled everywhere. Shaw family members and staff all gathered around. Veronica clutched her arm, eyes reddening. “I only advised Lena not to ruin the service, and she came at me.” When Shaun arrived, he saw Veronica sitting on the ground while I crouched among scattered letters. He helped Veronica up first. “Are you hurt?” I stood up. “She grabbed my letter.” Shaun didn’t let me finish. “Put your things away first. Don’t keep making a scene in front of outsiders.” I held up those handwritten letters. “Today is the day before our child’s memorial day. I only wanted to leave one letter.” “Tomorrow is the relocation.” Shaun suppressed his anger. “The family elders have all been notified. Veronica’s been frightened by you like this. How long are you going to keep this up?” I looked at him. “Even now, you still think I’m just making trouble?” Shaun didn’t answer. He only turned to instruct his assistant, “Take her home.” The assistant stepped forward. I stepped back. “Don’t touch me.” Veronica leaned against Shaun and suddenly drew a sharp breath. “Shaun, my arm hurts. I think I hit it just now.” Shaun’s expression changed. “Go to the hospital.” I stood before the grave, clutching the crumpled letters. Veronica’s pulling motion earlier had aggravated my old injury. My abdomen throbbed with pain. Cold sweat ran down from my temples. Shaun saw my pale face and paused mid-step. Veronica called to him softly. “Shaun, I’m a little scared.” Shaun ultimately supported Veronica toward the car, only turning back to tell his assistant, “Take her home.” I didn’t get in the assistant’s car. After Shaun’s car drove away, I crouched down and picked up the handwritten letters one by one from the ground. I didn’t try again to place the letters at the grave. I only tucked one into the memorial album. Then I photographed the altar that had been replaced, the overturned flower stand, the red marks on my wrist, and saved the video of Veronica grabbing my letter. As I left the cemetery, they were setting up directional signs for the relocation service in the distance. I messaged my old friend: Can the ticket be changed to tonight? The reply came quickly: Yes, last train. I looked at the screen and sent a simple reply. “Change it.” Great. Tonight I could finally leave the man who broke my heart. I only hoped he wouldn’t notice.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “402760”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

After attending my best friend Mary’s birthday party, I had just lain down when my phone pushed a hot post notification. [Help me think of a disgusting birthday gift, around $200, I need to give it to my bestie the day after tomorrow.] Netizens offered all sorts of nasty suggestions, but she rejected each one, saying none were disgusting enough. Finally, she pinned her own reply: [Thanks everyone. Her boyfriend said he’ll help me get revenge the day after tomorrow and plans to make her publicly humiliate herself.] Netizens immediately sensed something was off. [What’s your relationship with your bestie’s boyfriend? Why would he help you?] The poster sent several eye-roll emojis, her tone arrogant: [His first kiss was mine, his first time was mine too.] [Every year he lets me choose my Christmas gift first. The diamond ring he bought for his girlfriend cost over a hundred thousand dollars, but it’s engraved with mine and his initials.] After reading it, I felt both absurd and disgusted. I enlarged the poster’s profile picture. In the image, two people’s fingers were interlocked, a diamond ring dazzling. My heart sank sharply, all the blood in my body suddenly freezing. That diamond ring was the one my boyfriend Marcus and I had custom-made together in France six months ago.

I sat dazed for a long time, until my phone screen automatically went dark. Just an hour ago, Marcus had looked at Mary, completely drunk in his arms, frowned and said to me: “Matthias, look how drunk she is. I’ll call you a cab, I’ll take her home.” I hadn’t drunk much. The night breeze sobered me up. Out of habit, I nodded, reminding Marcus to send me a message once he safely got Mary home. But it was only a half-hour drive. The voice calls I made to check in, the messages I sent—all sank like stones into the sea. Now looking at Mary’s post. She was wide awake. Even the drunkenness was fake. My phone buzzed. Marcus’s message popped up: [Princess Matthias, have safely delivered your bestie home.] [Your knight is coming right back.] I didn’t reply. I clicked back into the post and enlarged the profile picture. That was the ring I had personally designed, revised ten times, one of a kind. The watch on that male wrist was a limited edition Patek Philippe—the New Year’s gift I’d given Marcus this year. The jade bracelet on that female wrist was from a raw stone I’d personally selected in Myanmar and had polished. She and I each had one. Someone asked: [What did your bestie do to you?] She replied: [Today’s my birthday. My bestie is so rich, but she just gave me a bag and didn’t treat everyone like she used to!] Someone else was confused: [Aren’t you afraid your bestie will find out about what you’re doing with her boyfriend?] [During that sophomore year trip, I gave her boyfriend advice on how to win her over, but required him to do it with me seven times first. Her boyfriend agreed immediately.] [The next day my legs were so sore I couldn’t climb the Alaska mountain. My idiot bestie thought I was on my period and even felt sorry for me, making her boyfriend carry me up the mountain.] I stared at those piercing lines, my stomach churning constantly. I still remembered that day. I kept pressing on her abdomen, worried: “Mary, if you’re not feeling well, just rest at the hotel.” Marcus had also gently urged in a rare soft voice: “Don’t push yourself. If you really want to climb, Matthias and I will bring you back next time.” Mary rolled her eyes at him and insisted on being stubborn. But after just two steps, her face went pale, so I had Marcus carry her. I blinked, my nose stinging, a string of tears falling onto my phone screen. I switched to WhatsApp, my thoughts in chaos, not knowing how to confront them. Just last week, Mary had been holding my hand, half-jokingly serious. As the Steve in our love story, she would definitely take the stage to denounce every crime of our public displays of affection. I had collapsed laughing in her arms, promising her my bouquet would only go to her. But I never imagined that these two people I trusted wholeheartedly would betray me together. Marcus, Mary, and I had known each other for twelve years. We took our high school graduation photos together. We took our college graduation photos together. When Marcus confessed to me in high school, Mary had angrily yelled at him: “Marcus! Are you so upset that Matthias got first place that you’re using this dirty trick to affect her studies?” I laughed helplessly and quickly pulled her back: “Mary, I actually got first place in the whole school this time thanks to Marcus explaining problems to me.” “You know I broke my leg. I relied entirely on him to help me with notes.” Back then, when I saw Mary’s complicated expression, I thought she was frustrated with me for not living up to expectations. In college, Marcus’s kindness to me was well known. He picked me up and dropped me off for class every day, remembered my period better than I did. His backpack was eighty percent full of things prepared for me. In junior year, Marcus was already planning our future. He meticulously wrote down plans for each year, proving he could become a man who could take care of me. These past years, he accomplished every step. He achieved a six-figure annual salary, maintained emotional stability, and could even do laundry and cook after work to take care of me. He accomplished selecting a diamond ring together with me, just waiting to propose this year, marry next year, have a child the year after. Every item in his plans included me. But outside the plans, there was also Mary.

The post had updated again. My finger uncontrollably clicked into it. [Actually, I’ve indirectly given her disgusting gifts before. Like the pearl bracelet on her wrist.] [During that period I wasn’t doing well at work, and her boyfriend and I played a bit rough in bed. That bracelet once broke inside my body. Her boyfriend didn’t care and still gave it to her.] My gaze uncontrollably drifted toward the vanity. That bracelet was the Christmas gift Marcus gave me this year, saying it was a limited edition pearl bracelet he bought. [Also, this Christmas, her boyfriend chose to bring me home to meet his parents.] [The gold bracelet on my right wrist was given to me by his mother.] [He said he couldn’t marry me, so he had to compensate me in other ways.] Boom—my mind went completely blank. His mother’s simple face and apologetic expression still seemed before my eyes: “When Marcus’s grandmother gave it to me, it was this silver bracelet.” When Marcus came back, it was already 1 AM. He reeked of Mary’s signature perfume. He smiled at me indulgently: “Waiting for me to blow-dry your hair?” I was about to confront him with a cold face when Mary video-called me. She drunkenly kissed the camera: “Matthias, I love you so much.” “I love this bag so much.” Her voice dropped. “I’m just too poor. Tomorrow’s your birthday, and I won’t be able to give you something this expensive back…” I coldly interrupted her: “Oh.” Seeing my expression was off, Mary froze. Marcus suddenly bear-hugged me, his face nestling in my neck, competing for my affection as always with Mary. “Matthias, the person who loves you most is clearly me…” As he spoke, his lips moved toward my face. Mary in the video suddenly shrieked, her phone falling. Marcus jerked toward my phone screen, his face instantly turning pale. No figure visible, no sound audible. He immediately rushed toward the entrance. His voice carried a panic and anxiety I’d never heard: “Matthias, something must have happened to Mary. I’m going to check!” A loud “bang.” I heard a soft laugh from the other end of the phone. The video was hung up. I opened that post again. The latest entry was full of malice directed at me. [She’s so stupid. Can’t tell I deliberately called her boyfriend away.] [Tomorrow’s her birthday, and she definitely won’t notice I’m deliberately disgusting her. So boring.] My heart felt like it had fallen into an ice cave, feeling cold all over. I lay on the couch with wet hair, eyes open until dawn. Playing on repeat in my mind was that trip when we climbed to the summit together. Mary shouted into the wind: “Marcus, you and Matthias will love each other forever.” Marcus glanced at her and shouted too: “Mary and Matthias will be best friends forever.” The 8 o’clock alarm rang on time. I opened WhatsApp and sent Marcus a message. [Marcus, let’s break up.] But the smart lock made a sound. Mary’s voice came through, rudely criticizing Marcus. “It’s all your fault for waking up late. We didn’t get to buy Matthias’s favorite ice cream cake.” “You’re the one who took forever, had to put on makeup to see Matthias.” Marcus retorted. “It’s because you exhausted me yesterday—” They were carrying seven or eight kinds of breakfast, smiling broadly. Seeing me lying on the couch, their voices stopped abruptly. What they were saying was self-evident. Marcus casually placed the breakfast on the table and chuckled: “My phone’s special ringtone just went off. Let me see what message Matthias sent me.”

He glanced at it, his face suddenly turning deathly pale. Mary leaned her head over. Their faces were inappropriately close. Her gaze shifted to my expressionless face, her tone taking on a playful quality: “Matthias, just because Marcus didn’t come home last night?” “I haven’t even blamed you yet. I accidentally fell, and you didn’t even care about me.” “And here I bought you breakfast early this morning.” Details I’d never noticed before, I now noticed completely. When did this ice cream cake from the east side of the city become my favorite? It was because Mary loved it, and he’d queue to buy it every time. Over time, I became the excuse, and it became my preference. I looked at Mary calmly, my tone flat: “Wasn’t it you who deliberately faked a fall to trick him over and keep him at your place?” “I heard your soft laugh.” “I saw the marks on both your necks.” Mary instinctively pulled up her collar. Marcus strode toward me, his Adam’s apple bobbing: “No, Matthias, you’ve misunderstood.” “Mary fainted from the fall yesterday. I took care of her all night, that’s why I didn’t come home.” “I promise it won’t happen again.” On the first day of living with Marcus, I made an agreement with him that he absolutely could not stay out all night. Past affection and former happiness made me just want to part ways amicably with them. Seeing their all-too-familiar faces, surging emotions flooded my brain. When I opened my mouth, I couldn’t control my choking voice. “Break up.” I couldn’t say any other words. Mary pushed Marcus hard, ordering: “Quickly kneel and apologize to Matthias.” She knelt down first with a thud: “No matter what it is, it’s not your fault anyway. I’ll apologize to you first, okay?” But Marcus suddenly yanked Mary up, his eyes full of heartache. Looking at me, his eyes held no guilt, only disappointment: “Matthias, apologize to Mary!” “We’ve both been indulging your emotions all along. We get tired too. Why can’t you be more mature?” “Why can’t you trust us the way we trust you?” It felt like something completely broke inside my heart. At this moment, only numbness remained. “You both betrayed me. Are you going to keep pretending?” “If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.” Mary pulled Marcus away. She loudly said near Marcus’s ear: “Let her process her emotions.” “Who knows who made her angry. She’s taking it out on us.” “Maybe she watched some stupid soap opera again and identified with the female lead.” I thought I’d been clear enough. Just as the slanderer knows best how wronged you are, the betrayer also knows best what they’ve done. But after I blew out my birthday candles and turned on the lights. The two of them stood side by side in the light, smiling. Mary acted as if nothing had happened, holding a huge internally carved crystal ornament in her arms. “Surprise!” She shoved it into my arms, smiling brightly: “I specially picked this for you. Do you like it?” Marcus knelt on one knee, holding up the diamond ring toward me, his eyes full of tenderness: “Matthias, marry me!” The diamond ring sparkled, drawing cheers. Someone shouted: “Accept it!”

I looked down. Inside the crystal ornament was an engraving of my figure. In the photo she chose, I was turning my head to the side, mouth half-open. The angle was so cunningly chosen that it captured the exact moment I looked most idiotic. She always loved catching unflattering candid photos of me, telling Marcus I was cute. Friends held up their phones filming me. Mary retreated behind Marcus, also holding up her phone aimed at me. Seeing the smile at the corner of her mouth, I also knew how ridiculous I looked—all dressed up, holding this ugly crystal emitting multicolored light. Marcus raised the ring even higher, his tone urgent: “Matthias, Mary specially bought you a gift to apologize too.” “Everyone’s watching. Haven’t you been looking forward to my proposal for a long time?” Apologize? I lowered my eyes. Marcus seemed unable to see how cheap and ugly what Mary gave me was. I wanted to laugh, but tears fell first. Marcus and Mary thought I was crying from being moved. I closed my eyes and raised my hand. Suddenly an ear-piercing burst of laughter erupted on the scene. Countless sprays of cream shot onto my face and body. White ribbons fell like a funeral. The cream stuck to my body was utterly inauspicious. Flashbulbs went crazy flashing. Marcus looked at Mary with an indulgent glance, then turned to me smiling: “Matthias, Mary and I lost a game of truth or dare, don’t—” My hand swung down hard, slapping across his face. The ring was knocked away, rolling into a corner. Mary shouted at me angrily: “It’s just a joke! Why did you hit Marcus?” “Slap—” I raised my hand again, a heavy slap landing on Mary’s face. Everyone finally noticed something was wrong with me and began to intervene. “Matthias, it’s your birthday today. Making such a scene, if word gets out… it’s too undignified.” “What’s wrong with you and Marcus? You’re about to become family. Can’t you give him some face?” “Mary didn’t do anything, right? Did you really need to hit someone?” Marcus’s face darkened: “I’m fine. Matthias, quickly apologize to Mary!” “She was so thoughtful preparing a gift for you. Yesterday she even knelt for you for no reason.” I lowered my head, hiding the mockery in my eyes. The huge screen suddenly displayed a file. Opening it revealed screenshots of all the posts Mary had made. Marcus still didn’t understand. He was still lecturing me: “Yesterday you threw a tantrum for no reason. I didn’t even want to propose to you. I wanted you to calm down and realize your mistake.” “It was Mary who kept persuading me, saying today is your birthday. If she and I didn’t show up, you’d definitely lose face.” “Mary usually plays the fool to make you laugh. Now you can’t even take a joke?” As he spoke, Marcus smeared cream on his own face, then dotted some on Mary’s nose, as if comforting a tantrum-throwing child: “Now we all look like this. Not angry anymore, right?” “With a temper like yours, how will you be a mother in the future?” I stared straight at Marcus, saying coldly: “Marcus, turn around and look at the big screen.” He turned around. The first thing he saw was his chat history with Mary. Marcus: [Keep the baby.] Mary: [I don’t want to. She’s my best friend.] Mary: [If I really have it, the three of us are completely done. Do you know how much pain she’ll be in?] Marcus: [But aren’t you in pain?] Mary: [Don’t forget, she also lost a child because of us.]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “402759”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

The day my wife divorced me for the ninth time, she attended a charity gala with her new assistant, making quite the public statement. I didn’t make a scene. I just looked at that man’s face—it was identical to mine before the car accident. But I knew that in thirty days, she’d come back to remarry me. That’s how it went the previous eight times. The first time, his eyes resembled mine. The second time, his mouth. The third time, his nose… The ninth time, his entire face looked like mine. But today is the thirty-second day. For the first time, she hasn’t come back. I stare at my face in the mirror, destroyed by hormone medication. It’s fine. This time, I’m not waiting anymore. The invitation to the charity gala was delivered by her assistant. That assistant stood at my door, wearing the suit brand I used to love, carrying the same cologne scent I used to wear. When he handed me the invitation, he deliberately used his left hand. Because he knew my wife liked left-handed men. Three years ago, I was left-handed. “Mr. Cavanaugh, Miss Bernard asked me to give you this.” He smiled, revealing a row of perfect teeth. That smile curved exactly like mine did in photos from three years ago. I took the invitation. “Got it.” I closed the door and tossed the invitation on the shoe cabinet. The invitation featured a photo of her with her assistant. She wore a black dress, he stood beside her, their faces close together. The caption read: Miss Bernard and her assistant attending the annual charity gala. With her assistant. She used to attend all those business dinners with me. I flipped the invitation over and left it face-down on the table. It’s fine. I’m used to it by now. Today is the thirty-second day. After the previous eight divorces, she always came back to remarry within thirty days. This time she hasn’t. I picked up my phone and sent my mom a message: “Mom, book me a flight back to New York for tonight.” “How many tickets?” “One.” “You sure?” “I’m sure.” “What about her?” I stared at that word “her” on the screen, then replied: “Not waiting for her anymore.” Then I turned off my phone, walked into the bedroom, and opened the closet. Her clothes took up most of the space. Mine occupied a small corner. I pulled out my clothes and packed them in a suitcase. Not much—just a few changes of clothes. Before leaving, I placed something on the coffee table: an agreement, the ninth divorce agreement. She’d already signed it. She signed it quickly that day without even looking. She didn’t know this agreement contained a gift contract tucked inside. I’d transferred our only property—the big house—into her name. There was nothing to fight over. She bought the house. She bought the car. The only thing I ever had of value was her love. Now that the love is gone, it’s time to leave. At seven that evening, I still went to the gala. Not to say goodbye, but to confirm something. I stood at the entrance to the ballroom and spotted her immediately. She wore that black evening gown, her hair pulled up, wearing the necklace from our wedding day around her neck. That necklace—I’d saved up six months of wages to buy it during our first marriage. She wore that necklace while holding another man’s arm. She saw me. Her gaze paused on me for a second. Then she turned her head and reached up to adjust her assistant’s tie. That gesture—I’d taught her that. The year we got married, she tried tying a tie for the first time and couldn’t get it right. I held her hands and taught her step by step. She learned, and then every morning for three years, she tied my tie. Now she was tying another man’s tie. Her fingers moved with the same motions, even more practiced now. Then she took her assistant’s arm and walked toward me. “You came.” She smiled. “Yeah.” “This is Diego, my new assistant.” I looked at the man. He extended his hand. “Hello, Mr. Cavanaugh.” I looked at that hand but didn’t shake it. I turned to her. “Today is the thirty-second day.” Her smile froze for an instant, then returned to normal. “I know.” “You’re not planning to come back.” She didn’t answer. The assistant spoke up: “Miss Bernard, let’s go over there. Rafael is waiting for us.” She nodded. “Alright.” Then she patted her assistant’s arm. “Let’s go.” She didn’t look at me. As she passed by, she still wore that same perfume. The first time I met her, she wore this scent. She’d never changed it in all these years. But now, this scent no longer belonged to me. I turned to watch her retreating figure. She walked into the crowd holding that man who looked ninety percent like me, her steps steady, never looking back. “Bernard.” I called her name. She stopped and turned to look at me. The entire ballroom went quiet for a moment. Everyone looked at us. She froze. This was the first time I’d called her like this in public. I used to call her “honey.” Later, I called her “Miss Bernard.” Today was the first time I called her by her full name in front of everyone. “Thank you for putting up with me these past few years.” After saying this, I turned and walked away. Whispers rose behind me. Someone asked “Who’s that?” Someone said “I think that’s Miss Bernard’s ex-husband.” I didn’t look back. I walked straight out of the hotel entrance. The evening breeze rushed in, a bit chilly. I took out my phone and sent her one final message: “I’m leaving. Don’t look for me.” Then I powered it off, removed the SIM card, snapped it in half, and threw it in a trash can by the road. I hailed a taxi. “To the airport.” The car started. The city’s night scenery flew backward past the window. I’d lived in this city for eight years, from having nothing to having nothing. I closed my eyes. The last image that floated through my mind was from many years ago, at the university gates, when she stood before me and said “I like you.” Back then, there was light in her eyes. That light illuminated me for many years. Later the light went out, and I couldn’t get it back.

On the way to the airport, my mom messaged me again. “Your dad is going to pick you up. Oh, there’s something I think you should know.” “What?” She sent a photo—a hospital test report with Bernard’s name on it. The examination date was three months ago. The report showed: she had taken mifepristone and misoprostol within a month—the drug combination used to terminate pregnancy. I gripped my phone tightly. My mom sent another message: “She had an abortion three months ago. I don’t know whose child it was. Did you ask her?” I stared at the word “abortion” on the screen. Three months ago was before our eighth divorce. During that time, she treated me well. She came home on time every day and even cooked on weekends. One night, she suddenly asked me: “Do you want children?” I was stunned, thinking she was just asking casually. Later I found an obstetrics appointment slip in her coat pocket. That night I bought flowers and a cake and waited for her to come home. When she saw the cake, her expression changed. “You went through my things.” “I didn’t mean to. I saw it when I was doing laundry.” She was silent for a long time, then said: “The baby is gone.” I wanted to hold her, to tell her it was okay, we could have another one. But she pushed me away and said: “That child wasn’t yours.” When she said this, she didn’t look at my eyes. She stared at the cake on the table, her gaze empty. “The child was Costa’s—that intern whose eyes looked like yours.” “You know what disgusts me most about myself? Even when I betray you, I can only find someone who looks like you. Even when I make mistakes, I can’t betray you completely.” That night she moved to the guest room. I sat in the living room all night without sleeping. When morning came, I asked for a divorce. She nodded. She didn’t try to keep me. That was our eighth divorce. Later she came back, said she’d fired that intern, said she’d never make the same mistake again. I believed her. Then we remarried for the ninth time and divorced for the ninth time. From beginning to end, she never told me whose child it really was. Now, looking at the report my mom sent, I suddenly didn’t want to know anymore. Whoever it belonged to didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that she never intended to tell me the truth. I messaged my mom back: “Not going to ask her.” “Why not?” “I’m tired.” After sending that message, I turned off my phone too. We arrived at the airport. I dragged my suitcase into the terminal. The electronic board displayed: To New York, 23:45. Twenty minutes until the flight. I found a seat and sat down. Next to me was a young couple. The girl leaned on the boy’s shoulder. “When we get to New York, I want to eat roast chicken.” The boy said: “Okay, you can eat whatever you want.” The girl looked up at him. “What about you? What do you want to eat?” The boy smiled and pinched her cheek. “I want to eat you.” The girl blushed and playfully hit him. I watched them, remembering how many years ago, Bernard and I had similar conversations. Back then we’d just graduated, broke as could be, renting a basement apartment for six hundred dollars a month. She worked as a salesperson at a small company. I worked as a site supervisor at a construction site. Life was hard, but every night when she came home, she’d bring me fried chicken from a street vendor, saying: “Eat up, I already ate.” I knew she was lying. She saved money to buy food for me while she became skin and bones. Back then I held her and swore to myself that I’d give her a good life. Later her company grew from a three-person workshop to an enterprise with hundreds of employees. She became a lady boss. Everyone said she married down when she married me. She never cared. Whenever someone said that, she’d hook her arm through mine and say: “Who says that? My husband is the most handsome.” When she said this, her eyes were bright. There was light in them, shining only on me. Then came the car accident. That afternoon she drove me to see the ocean. Her phone kept ringing in the car—calls from the company. I told her to answer. She said she wouldn’t. She tilted her head and smiled at me. “Today I’m only with you.” Sunlight fell on her profile. I reached out to block it. “Don’t look at me, watch the road.” Then that truck came at us.

When I woke up three days later, my body was wrapped in bandages and I couldn’t move. She sat by the bed, her eyes so swollen they were almost shut. When she saw me open my eyes, she burst into tears. “You scared me to death.” Later the doctor told me that my endocrine system was damaged in the car accident. I’d need to take hormone medication long-term to maintain function. I asked about side effects. The doctor said I’d gain weight. I asked how much. The doctor said I might become unrecognizable. She stood beside me and gripped my hand. “It’s okay. I’ll love you no matter what you look like.” When she said this, her eyes were still bright. I believed her. But I didn’t expect the medication’s side effects to come so quickly. Three months—I gained twenty pounds. Six months—forty pounds. After a year, the man in the mirror had nothing to do with me anymore. From that point on, she stopped looking at my face much. Then one day I went to her company to find her and saw a young man standing beside her. That boy’s eyes looked very much like someone. It took me a long time to remember—they looked like mine from three years ago. She said he was a new intern named Costa. He was her first “assistant.” Later, she and he grew closer and closer. I started hearing gossip. I didn’t believe it. Until one day that intern resigned. She came home, held me, and cried, saying she was sorry, saying his eyes looked too much like mine, saying she was just confused for a moment. She said: “I still love you.” I believed her. Then we remarried. Six months later, she found a second one. A third, a fourth… Each one looked like me. Each one wasn’t me. I couldn’t understand it before. Later I understood. She never loved me as a person. She loved my face. When that face was gone, she had to look elsewhere. When she found someone who could piece together a part of it, she could hold on for a while. When she couldn’t hold on anymore, she’d come back to remarry me. Because no matter how many she found, she couldn’t piece together a complete me. So she had to come back, to confirm I was still here, to check in before going to find the next one. She wasn’t looking for substitutes. She was extending her own life. And I was her oxygen tank. When she ran out of air, she’d come back for a breath. When she’d had enough, she’d go out into the world to breathe. The airport announcement sounded. I stood up and dragged my suitcase toward the gate. Past the gate, I didn’t look back. The night wind was cold. I pulled my coat tighter. I found my seat by the window and sat down, looking out at the pitch-black night. My phone vibrated in my pocket—the new phone. Only my mom knew the number. I took it out and saw my mom’s message: “Cavanaugh, your dad already left. Be careful on the road.” “Okay.” “Did she contact you?” “Don’t know. I turned off my phone.” “What if she comes looking?” “She won’t. She doesn’t know I left.” “What if she finds out?” I looked out the window, thinking for a long time. “Even if she knows, it won’t matter. I’m not waiting anymore.” The plane taxied out onto the runway and rose into the night sky. This city, this woman, this eight-year relationship—all of it became nothing but distant lights. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. For the first time in eight years, I didn’t look back. After the gala ended, she returned home. She pushed open the door. The lights were still on. The living room was quiet. An agreement sat on the coffee table. She picked it up and flipped through a few pages. It was the divorce agreement, the ninth one. She’d already signed it without even looking. But tucked inside this agreement was another paper—a gift contract. It stated: I voluntarily gift my only jointly owned property, one house, entirely and freely to the woman. The signature was my name. The date was today. She held that paper, her fingers beginning to tremble. She rushed into the bedroom. All my clothes were gone from the closet. My computer was gone from the study. My toothbrush was gone from the bathroom. She pulled out her phone and dialed my number. Powered off. She tried again. Still powered off. She called my mom. No answer. She panicked. Really panicked. Every previous divorce, I’d kept my phone on, waiting for her call, waiting for her to come back. But not this time. She rushed out and drove around the city searching. She went to that noodle shop. The owner said he hadn’t seen me today. She went to that old fifty-square-foot apartment. Inside it was dusty, clearly no one had been there in a long time. She went to the gym I used to frequent. The receptionist said I hadn’t been there in three months. She searched every place she could think of. Nothing. As dawn approached, she stopped by the roadside, gripping the steering wheel with both hands, her whole body shaking. Then her phone rang. She grabbed it frantically.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “402758”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On my wedding anniversary, my husband Karen told me he had to wine and dine clients all night and couldn’t come home. My daughter Clara insisted on surprising Daddy. I pulled some strings to get VIP access and quietly brought her to Black Pack’s exclusive banquet. In the private booth, Clara asked me in her sweet little voice: “Mommy, can I go find Daddy?” Before I could answer, an Omega sitting nearby leaned over with a smile. “What an adorable child. My Alpha always says when our baby is born, they should be this well-behaved too.” As she handed Clara a macaron, the wolf-head brooch on her collar gleamed blindingly under the crystal chandelier. I asked with a trembling voice, “That’s a really unique brooch. Where did you get it custom made?” Pride radiated from her eyes: “My Alpha gave it to me as a gift.” “He said this is an exclusive token for top-tier Alphas. It’s one of a kind in the entire world.” I stared hard at that brooch—it was the token my father had personally given Karen when he assumed leadership of Black Pack. My blood ran cold instantly. I looked up at her, my voice shaking so badly I could barely speak: “Your Alpha… it’s not Karen from Black Pack, is it?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise, her smile growing more smug: “Oh, you actually know him?”

Clara lay against my lap, her little hands clutching my clothes as she looked around. Karen had said this morning he’d be out all night entertaining clients and couldn’t come home. But our daughter kept insisting she wanted to find Daddy and surprise him, so I pulled some strings to get VIP access and quietly brought her here. The banquet hall’s crystal chandeliers were dazzling. Everyone here belonged to the upper echelons of werewolf society. I had just sat down with Clara when the Omega next to us turned and smiled, offering Clara a macaron. “What a beautiful little girl, like a little angel.” Lena smiled warmly. As she raised her hand, the diamond-encrusted wolf-head brooch on her dress collar sparkled brilliantly. “My man loves children too. He always says he wants us to have one as sweet as your baby.” I blocked her hand offering the macaron, my gaze falling on the brooch. “That’s a White Pack custom piece, isn’t it? I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere.” “You have a good eye.” She deliberately straightened up, making the brooch more visible, unable to hide the pride in her voice. “My mate gave this to me. He said it’s an exclusive piece only top-tier Alphas can get. You can’t buy it anywhere no matter how much money you have. I actually thought it was too showy, but he insisted I wear it, saying only I’m worthy of it.” My fingertips turned white from gripping so hard, though my expression remained unchanged: “White Pack custom pieces are only given to Alphas recognized by the clan. Your mate is quite generous.” This brooch was given to Karen by my father personally when he ascended to the Alpha position. Years ago, when Black Pack’s old Alpha stepped down, it was my father who used his connections with the Elder Council to push Karen into the Alpha position. Since our marriage, although Karen was nominally the one in power at Black Pack, most of Black Pack’s resources still relied on White Pack connections. Obviously his Omega lover didn’t understand these inside details. “Of course, he’s always generous with me.” She tossed her hair, revealing a moonstone wolf-tail bracelet on her wrist. The milky white glow stood out especially under the crystal lights. “Like this bracelet—he specially gave it to me last Valentine’s Day. He said it’s a Black Pack heirloom, only given to the Pack’s Luna. I’ve worn it for almost a year and haven’t wanted to take it off.” My breathing stopped for half a second. This was what Karen had personally put on my wrist when we got married, saying it was a testament to our love. Half a year ago Karen said he accidentally lost this bracelet when we moved, and I’d felt regretful for so long. Turns out he gave it to his mistress. “And he’s given me more than just these.” Lena raised her right hand. The pink diamond’s brilliance hurt my eyes under the cruise ship lighting. “This is what he gave me for my birthday last year. A pink diamond this large is very hard to find.” I grabbed Lena’s wrist and examined it carefully. This was the pink diamond I’d bought at auction for forty million dollars. Karen actually dared to steal my things and give them to his mistress! “Mommy!” Clara suddenly tugged at my sleeve, her childish voice clear. “You’re hurting that lady.” I saw Lena’s twisted expression and released her wrist. The day the pink diamond went missing, I searched the entire house and couldn’t find it. Finally Karen had held me and laughed, saying: “Don’t be upset. I’ll buy you an even better one.” At the time I’d thought Karen was so considerate, that I really hadn’t married the wrong person. Now thinking back, I just felt Karen was hypocritical to the extreme. I suppressed the urge to retch and tightly gripped Clara’s hand. “Are you feeling unwell?” Lena finally noticed something was wrong with me. “A bit of low blood sugar.” I forced a smile and took the water a server handed me. “When did you and your mate meet?”

Lena froze at my question, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face. “I’m his mistress, but hear me out—Karen says he has no feelings for that nominal mate of his! It’s all her family clinging to him.” “Her family just saw that Karen was capable and a natural Alpha candidate, so they pestered him relentlessly until he married her. The pathetic resources her family gave Karen were all earned by Karen saving her back then. He doesn’t owe that woman anything.” My fingers gripping the water glass suddenly tightened, knuckles turning white, fingertips nearly embedding into the glass. Saved me? Hearing this almost made me laugh out loud. When I met Karen, he was just a bottom-tier werewolf in Black Pack who couldn’t even afford a decent business dinner. One year Black Pack was attacked by rogues. He rashly charged forward trying to claim credit and was nearly surrounded and killed in the chaos. I desperately dragged him out of the pile of corpses and saved his life. To save him I was poisoned with wolf venom and nearly lost the ability to shift for life. At the time he’d knelt before me with red eyes, clutching my hand and swearing he’d never betray me in this lifetime. To make things easier for him, I went home and begged my father on my knees for five million in startup capital. I also got him inserted into Black Pack’s core management and helped him climb to the Alpha position. My family poured our hearts out to pull him from the mud into the spotlight, giving him money, connections, and dignity. But in his mouth, my life-saving grace, all my sacrifices, became evidence of me pestering him relentlessly to marry him. He turned around and used our sincerity as gifts to court his mistress, even twisting the truth to say we were clinging to him. Looking at Lena’s smug face, the last bit of hope in my heart shattered completely. “That woman is not only gloomy in personality but also boring in bed,” Lena pursed her lips, her face full of disdain. “Karen says staying with her is especially depressing. If it weren’t for transitioning through her family’s connections, he would have divorced her long ago.” As she spoke, her face took on a deliberately flaunting sweetness: “But the hard times are almost over. Karen said once he’s firmly established as Alpha, he’ll divorce that woman immediately.” Next month on the 16th is our anniversary. He says he’s going to give me the beach house under that woman’s name.” The 16th… That was the day I woke up after being severely injured and falling into a coma while saving Karen. Karen didn’t come see me until the day after I woke up, saying he’d been delayed handling clan affairs the night before. Turns out while I lay unconscious in the hospital bed, he was sleeping with another Omega and taking credit for my life-saving grace to show off. “That woman still has no clue even now. She’s stupid as hell.” Lena sneered, her tone arrogant to the extreme. “She still thinks she married such a good, loyal husband. When Karen asks her for a divorce, she won’t even have anywhere to cry. If she’s smart she’ll pack her things and get lost, instead of refusing to let go of the Luna position.” She continued prattling in my ear, bragging about her sex with Karen, counting off the things Karen had given her—things that originally belonged to me. I couldn’t suppress the fury in my chest any longer. I suddenly stood up and viciously threw the water in my hand onto her smug face.

“Ah—! Are you insane?!” Lena bounced up from the booth. Ice water ran down her haute couture gown. Her foundation and eyeliner smeared into a mess, making her look like a painted cat. Clara was startled by the sudden scream and burst into tears with a “wah,” hugging my leg tightly. I immediately shielded my daughter behind me, looking at her expressionlessly as she jumped around. “What did I do to you that you’d throw water on me?” Lena dabbed at her face with an expensive silk handkerchief, while playing the victim to the surrounding onlookers. “Everyone look! This person threw water on me for no reason! How can there be no rules?!” Banquet attendants quickly squeezed through the crowd, bowing as they tried to mediate: “Ma’am, please calm down. Talk it out nicely, don’t disturb the other guests’ dining experience.” “Talk nicely? I’ve been soaked like this and you want me to talk nicely?” Lena pointed at my nose and shouted, her nail almost poking my face. “Do you know who I am? I’m the person Alpha Karen specially brought here! Go get Karen over here right now. Every minute you’re late, I’ll have him fire you!” The attendant looked troubled: “Ma’am, Alpha Karen is currently at the main table hosting the three clans’ elders. He really can’t step away.” “Can’t step away? His woman has been bullied like this and he can’t step away?” Lena raised her voice shrilly. “You won’t go? Fine, I’ll go to the main table and find him myself. Then I’ll tell him you were disrespectful to me, and we’ll see how Karen deals with you!” The attendant had no choice but to steel himself and go report. A few minutes later he returned, looking embarrassed: “Alpha Karen says he really can’t leave right now. He asks everyone to calm down, and he’ll handle it after the banquet ends.” Lena was clearly unsatisfied with this response. Just as she was about to make a scene, a Beta’s steady voice suddenly rang through the banquet hall—it was Karen’s second-in-command: “Distinguished guests, we have a female guest in the inner hall who has publicly attacked another person, causing harm to Alpha Karen’s Omega. Banquet security, please immediately restrain the troublemaker to ensure the safety of Alpha Karen’s Omega.” The moment the microphone announcement ended, every gaze in the banquet hall focused on me in unison. “Daring to touch someone Karen brought? Does she not want to survive in werewolf circles anymore?” “Karen’s Omega is so pitiful, accompanying her boyfriend to a banquet and getting bullied…” “Making a scene with a child in tow, isn’t she afraid of traumatizing the kid?” Some people took out their phones to secretly snap photos. Guests at nearby tables, afraid of getting involved in trouble, all shifted their seats away. A circle immediately cleared around our booth. Clara trembled all over, burying her face in my arms, crying softly and asking: “Mommy, why is everyone looking at us? Why won’t Daddy help us?” I held my daughter as bone-chilling cold shot from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. In front of the entire circle, Karen had turned me and my daughter into a laughingstock for everyone to gawk at. Two banquet security guards in black suits walked up to me. Seeing the guards arrive, Lena immediately put on an act, standing behind them. “It’s her who threw water on me for no reason. I didn’t even provoke her. Quickly take her away, I’m scared…” The guards reassured Lena, then turned to me: “Ma’am, please cooperate with us. Don’t make this difficult for us.” A server who appeared to be a shift supervisor quietly advised me: “Ma’am, I think you should just apologize. Alpha Karen has a lot of influence in the circle now. If this gets bigger, it won’t be good for you or the child.”

Black Pack is a top-tier clan in North American werewolf circles. One of the core reasons Karen could rise to power back then was because the old Alpha had no heir, plus our White Pack fully supported him from behind, which allowed him to overcome all objections and take the leadership position. I never expected that the person I helped into power would now use that power to suppress me. Lena proudly smoothed the wolf-head brooch at her collar and sneered: “Of course. Karen’s abilities are recognized by the entire circle. Otherwise he couldn’t have taken the Alpha position.” She turned to look at the two guards, putting on a frightened appearance. “Please take her away quickly. I’m really afraid she’ll suddenly go crazy again. My heart is still pounding hard.” The guards looked at me helplessly: “Ma’am, if you won’t apologize, we’ll have to ask you to wait temporarily in the back lounge.” “I did nothing wrong and won’t apologize.” I pulled Clara closer into my arms. “On the contrary, this lady publicly spread rumors and insulted others. She’s the one who should apologize.” The attendant, seeing I wouldn’t back down, could only contact Karen’s Beta again. Half a minute later he received a reply: “Alpha Karen instructs that the troublemaker be removed from the banquet immediately. Force may be used if necessary.” The guard sighed and made a gesture for me to go with them: “Ma’am, please cooperate with our work.” The surrounding guests’ gazes grew even more piercing. Lena deliberately shook the moonstone bracelet on her wrist, the silent flaunting slapping my face like a physical blow. I looked around at those clueless, pointing guests, at the guards caught in a difficult position. Clara trembled in my arms, her little shoulders shaking with sobs. An unprecedented fury burned in my chest. Karen, not only have you betrayed our mate bond, now you’re using the power my family gave you to twist the truth in front of the entire circle, treating me and my daughter like troublemaking outsiders? Fine. Just fine. I gently wiped the tears from Clara’s face, softly comforting her: “Baby don’t be scared, Mommy will protect you.” Then I raised my head, looking the guards straight in the eye, my voice clear and firm: “Let’s go.” I took Clara’s hand and followed the guards toward the backup lounge at the rear of the banquet hall. Clara looked up at me, her big eyes brimming with tears, asking in confusion: “Mommy, why do we have to leave? When will Daddy come take us home?” My heart felt like it was being squeezed tight. I crouched down to meet her eyes, using my fingertips to gently wipe the tears from her face: “Baby, remember this—no matter what happens, Mommy will always love you and always protect you.” Clara pressed close to me, her little hand clutching the corner of my clothing and refusing to let go. Through the lounge door, I could hear the music and clinking glasses from the banquet outside. The resolve in my heart grew stronger: Karen, you must pay the price for your betrayal and shamelessness. The banquet finally ended. Two enforcement officers from the Elder Council were already waiting outside the lounge door. Under the staff’s watchful eyes, Clara and I were brought to the VIP reception room of the banquet venue. Clara was well-behaved the whole time, just tightly gripping my hand without crying out loud anymore. We’d barely sat down when Lena’s coquettish voice came from outside the door: “Karen, look, she ruined my new gown. You have to make her apologize to me and compensate me for the dress.” “Alright, alright. She’s just an ordinary clan member with no background. I already spoke to the Elder Council. You can handle her however you want. I guarantee you’ll get your justice.” The door was pushed open. Karen walked in first, wearing a custom black banquet suit, his tone arrogant: “Where’s the troublemaker?” I spoke coldly: “Right here, Alpha Karen.” The smile on his face instantly froze. His pupils dilated sharply, his entire face filled with disbelieving terror.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “402757”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster