I had been in a five-year relationship, and my fiancé, Charlie Atkinson, had never once given me a surprise. But on our anniversary, he had a pair of couple’s diamond rings and a box of liquor-filled chocolates delivered to me. I was allergic to alcohol, but I was still ecstatic and immediately posted it on Twitter. And then, his first love, Beatrice Chapman, left a comment: [Looks like some people treasure the trash I threw away.] It turned out that this “surprise” was originally meant for her. I decided to return the gift in person, only to walk in on the two of them, disheveled and tightly embracing. Charlie’s face darkened, and he scolded me viciously. “You’re always so paranoid. Beatrice and I were just talking about work. “Why are you always imagining things? If I were really with Beatrice, do you think I’d still be engaged to you?” In the past, I would’ve screamed, demanded answers, and lost control. But this time, I remained calm. I simply said, “You two are a perfect match. Congratulations.” ***** The couple’s diamond rings rolled to a stop at Charlie’s feet. He glared at me, sneering, completely indifferent. “Melany Robinson, what drama are you pulling now? “If you still want me to marry you, stop making a scene. Go home!” I ignored his insults. My gaze fell on the rings at his feet, and a bitter irony crept into my heart. He kept promising to marry me, but he had never bought a ring for me. Yet here he was, ordering a custom pair for another woman. When I got home, I posted on Twitter again. This time, I attached a photo from Beatrice’s profile of the two of them locked in an intimate embrace. I wrote just one sentence: [I’m letting you go. We’re done.] The post quickly gained traction, and friends and family started reaching out, but I didn’t respond to anyone. Meanwhile, the wedding planning group chat exploded. Charlie’s mother, Tiana Atkinson, tagged me directly, demanding: [Melany, what’s the meaning of your Twitter post?] I didn’t mince words and responded: [Your son cheated. I’m not getting married.] Charlie, who usually ignored group chats, replied instantly this time. He attached a picture of himself at work and wrote: [I’m at the office with my colleagues. Everything’s fine.] I calmly dropped all the incriminating photos Beatrice had posted onto the group chat. I asked: [Since when do colleagues hug and cling to each other like that?] [Charlie, don’t think you can fool me.] Even faced with undeniable evidence, Charlie still tried to shift the blame onto me. Charlie: [Melany, just because I’m not rich enough for you doesn’t mean you have to smear me like this.] [Didn’t you spend my money partying with other men at bars? I let it slide because I thought marriage would settle you down, but clearly, you’re insatiable.] I laughed out loud. I couldn’t believe how shameless he was. Right then, my father called. “You disgraceful woman! What have you done? Do you know how much embarrassment you’ve caused me? “Go and apologize to Charlie immediately! If you can’t marry into the Atkinson family, don’t bother coming back!” I pressed my lips together tightly, a bitter taste rising in my throat. My mother had passed away when I was young, and my father had never liked me. I had never felt an ounce of love from him growing up. In his eyes, my only value was marrying into a wealthy family. Every man I met was worse than the last. I thought my life would never improve, but later, I met Charlie. At first, he didn’t belittle me like he did now. He didn’t appraise me with that disgusting, objectifying gaze. But somewhere along the line, he changed. He stopped being kind and attentive. His words became sharp, his attitude cutting. I told myself he was just under too much pressure and tried to understand him. I swallowed my grievances and endured it all because I loved him. But I never thought the man I loved would become so repulsive. Now, I understood. Maybe this was who Charlie had always been. I had just been too blinded by love to see it. This time, I didn’t want to keep this relationship. As I packed my bags, Charlie finally came home. I didn’t plan to acknowledge him. He glanced at me with indifference as if the argument earlier in the day had never happened. “I’m hungry. Make me a sandwich.” I ignored him completely. His expression darkened. “Melany, you’re pushing it. Stop throwing a tantrum. “You’re mad because I didn’t celebrate our anniversary properly, right? I brought you cake. Stop saying I don’t care about you.” He shoved a slice of cake toward me. I glanced at it coldly and felt a wave of nausea. Not long ago, I’d seen Beatrice’s Twitter post. The diamond rings, the chocolates, the cake… Everything had been painstakingly prepared to win her over. And this cake was their leftovers. I tossed it straight into the trash and said calmly, “I’m not a beggar. I don’t need someone else’s scraps. “And I’m not a shelter. I won’t keep putting up with trash like you.”

The moment Charlie heard my words, his face darkened. “Melany, what’s that supposed to mean? “And you still have the nerve to scold me? Did you forget that I’ve been paying for all your expenses these past few years? I’ve been the one supporting you!” A sharp pain pricked at my heart, and I almost wanted to argue back. But when I saw the arrogance in Charlie’s eyes, the scornful, dismissive look, I suddenly felt exhausted. I realized that arguing with him was pointless now. It was my unconditional love that had emboldened him to behave this way. He had forgotten that it was me who stood by his side, helping him build his business so he could have the success he enjoyed today. I had never demanded wealth from him, nor had I cared about whether my sacrifices would pay off. All I wanted was to create a warm and happy home with him. Later, when he finally succeeded, he told me he didn’t want me to work so hard anymore. He asked me to quit my job and stay home to take care of our little home. He promised me he would marry me, and said he would give me a grand wedding. But in the end, his promises were worthless. Now, his eyes were filled with contempt and disdain whenever he looked at me. I had become nothing more than an “unreasonable, useless housewife”, in his words. Charlie’s arrogance stemmed from the belief that I owed him for his financial support. But he didn’t know that in the past five years, I hadn’t spent a single penny of his. Everything I used came from the savings I earned through part-time work in my free time. I took a deep breath and said, “Fine. You’re absolutely right.” I didn’t want to waste energy arguing anymore. I turned and continued packing my suitcase. Charlie’s expression darkened with displeasure, and he grabbed me by the arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” I shook off his hand and replied coldly, “I’m moving out tomorrow. Like I said, we’re done.” Upon hearing this, Charlie’s face twisted with anger. His voice rose in agitation. “Melany, are you joking? The wedding…” “I’m not joking!” I cut him off firmly before he could finish. “Charlie, are you still pretending at this point? If you can’t get over your first love, just say so. I’m not someone who clings to the past.” Charlie frowned deeply, but there wasn’t a trace of guilt in his eyes. Instead, he defended himself. “Beatrice and I are over. We’re just colleagues now. “As for those tweets and the gifts, they were nothing more than friendly gestures between coworkers. “I already told you, if there was really something between us, why would I bother marrying you?” As he spoke, he pulled out an exquisite little box from his pocket. Inside was a ring. “This is the wedding ring I carefully chose for you. I told you before that whatever others have, you’ll have, too. “You’ve always dreamed of us having our little home together, right? I want that, too. But now, just because of your baseless accusations, are you really going to deny everything we’ve built together?” I stood there, stunned and silent. My gaze fell on the ring in his hand, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of hesitation. I thought, “Did I overthink things?” Seeing that I hadn’t responded, Charlie didn’t get angry. Instead, his tone softened. “I shouldn’t have said those harsh words earlier. You should get some rest. I’ll head back to the office tonight.” With that, he gave me a light hug. Before I could say anything, he turned and walked out the door. The apartment fell silent again. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Charlie’s words echoed in my mind over and over. I admitted that I still couldn’t let go of him. If he could truly change, I would be willing to forgive everything from the past. But that night, my sleep was restless. The next morning, I woke up to find a strawberry cake, my favorite, on the table. Beneath the cake was a small note written by Charlie. Charlie: [This cake is for you. Things are busy at work these days, but I’ll make it up to you soon.] I was caught off guard by the sudden change in his attitude. But I still smiled. Then came a loud, urgent knock at the door. It was immediately followed by the sound of two familiar male voices. “Melany! Open the door, now!” At that moment, a wave of irritation washed over me. My father had arrived, and he’d brought my younger brother, Cullen Robinson, with him.

I knew exactly why they were here. And I didn’t want to face them. But the knocking on the door grew louder, their voices more impatient. I knew they wouldn’t leave unless they saw me. So, I opened the door. “Dad…” I greeted him wearily, my voice flat and emotionless. The moment he saw me, he began to yell. “You idiot! Not answering your phone, ignoring my messages… What do you think you’re doing? Charlie’s such a catch! What more could you possibly want? And now you’re even thinking about calling off the wedding! “Do you have any shame? Sneaking off to drink with other men behind Charlie’s back? You’re disgusting!” I sighed and tried to explain, “Dad, it’s not what you think. This is between Charlie and me. He’s the one…” “I don’t care!” He cut me off sharply before I could finish. “You’d better stop this nonsense right now! Charlie’s willing to marry you, so you’re going to behave yourself and marry him!” “Exactly, Melany.” My younger brother Cullen chimed in, leaning lazily against the wall. He exhaled a puff of smoke, his tone casual. “You’re already engaged. What’s there to fuss about? “Besides, the money Charlie set aside for the wedding? I already used it to buy my car. You’re not backing out now, no way.” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning smug as he said, “Actually, why don’t you talk to Charlie for me? Get me a little more. I’m thinking of buying an apartment in the city.” I chuckled dryly and gave him a cold look, “I can’t help you. That’s his money, not mine.” “What are you talking about?” My father’s glare sharpened as his tone grew harsher. “Cullen’s your brother! Once you marry Charlie, we’ll all be family. And once you’re his wife, isn’t everything he has yours too? “Anyway, you’d better go apologize to Charlie. You’re marrying him, end of story! If you even think about canceling the wedding, I’ll die right here in front of you!” I felt drained. They weren’t interested in hearing me out, not even for a second. They only cared about pressuring me into making a decision. They’d been like this since I was a child. My feelings didn’t matter. The sacrifices I’d made didn’t matter. All they cared about was wringing every ounce of value out of me. I took a deep breath and said calmly, “I understand…” Satisfied with my response, they finally left me alone. When they were gone, I let out a long sigh of relief. I sat at the dining table, staring at the cake in front of me. My body felt heavy, my mind even more so. In the end, I gave in. I chose to bow my head and compromise. I decided I would find a time to sit down with Charlie and talk things through. If everything really were just a misunderstanding, I would marry him. But I hadn’t expected how naive I still was. Reality hit me hard. One day, as I was tidying up the apartment, I stumbled across a property deed tucked in a corner of the bookshelf. The address on it was for a unit in the apartment complex next door. Confused, I looked at the name listed under “Owner” and froze. It wasn’t Charlie’s name. It was Beatrice’s. My breath caught in my throat. A ridiculous thought flashed through my mind, one I didn’t want to believe. But the truth was undeniable. That apartment was a gift from Charlie to Beatrice. I stared at the document, struggling to process it. Images of the intimate photos Beatrice had posted on Twitter flooded my mind. I instinctively reached for my phone, wanting to call Charlie and confront him. I tried several times, but he didn’t pick up. After a long wait, he finally texted me back. [I was in a meeting. I’m busy today. Let’s talk later.] I took a photo of the property deed, ready to send it to him. But just as I was about to send, I hesitated. I exited the chat window, saved the photo to my phone, and carefully put the deed back where I found it. Then, I went to the apartment complex next door. When I reached the door of that unit, I froze. Charlie, who had told me he was at work, was standing there, knocking on Beatrice’s door.   The door swung open almost immediately. Beatrice stood there in a thin, revealing nightgown, her cheeks flushed and her voice playful, almost syrupy. “There you are. I’ve been waiting forever.” Charlie grinned, pulling her into his arms. “My bad. I’ll make it up to you in a bit.” He leaned in, pressing a deep, eager kiss to her lips. Beatrice giggled, gently pushing him away as if chastising him. “You’re just as bad as ever.” Charlie raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning mischievous. “Oh, I can be worse. Want to find out?” Without waiting for her reply, he swept her off her feet and carried her inside, slamming the door shut behind them. I stood there, frozen. Slowly, I lowered my phone. Step by step, I dragged my stiff body forward. Inside, their voices, laughter, whispers, and more spilled out clearly through the door. His ragged breaths mixed with her soft, teasing moans, peppered with words I wished I hadn’t heard. My legs locked in place. I covered my mouth, a wave of nausea crashing over me. When I looked down, my gaze landed on a trash bag by the door. My heart sank. Two used condoms sat conspicuously atop the bag. I didn’t need to guess who they belonged to. At that moment, clarity hit me, sharp and cruel. My earlier hesitation, my moments of doubt… They all felt laughable now. Charlie’s “late nights at work” were nothing more than passionate evenings with Beatrice. I didn’t know when they had started this. All I knew was that I had been a fool, left completely in the dark. The signs had always been there. Beatrice’s provocations were never subtle. But I had believed Charlie’s clumsy excuses. I finally understood why he kept delaying our wedding. Memories rushed back, one in particular, from four years ago. It happened when we had been dating for six months. I had just returned from a business trip, eager to surprise him. However, I overheard him talking with his friends. They teased him, saying I was better than Beatrice because I had helped him move on so quickly. But Charlie had dismissed it with chilling indifference. “No one compares to Beatrice.” Even so, I hadn’t given up. I believed that one day, he would see my sincerity. But I had forgotten one crucial thing. Someone who didn’t love you would never care, no matter how much you did. Looking at it now, I realized that this marriage I had hoped for was unnecessary. I didn’t even remember how I got home. Back in my apartment, I packed my things and booked a flight abroad, determined to leave that very night. But fate had other plans. I ran into Beatrice again. I tried to walk past her, ignoring her completely. But she called out to me. Arms crossed, she leaned against the wall, her tone dripping with mockery. “I heard you and Charlie are getting married. Congratulations.” I lifted my gaze to meet hers. My eyes caught the faint marks on her neck, red and unmistakably intimate. A wave of revulsion surged within me. My voice was cold. “What do you want to say?” I knew her well enough to sense the malice beneath her feigned politeness. Beatrice arched an eyebrow, her lips pulling up into a smug smile. “Just that. Congratulations! You’ve finally got what you wanted.” She gave my shoulder a light pat, her tone full of mock sympathy. “Charlie’s lucky to have someone as selfless as you.” With that, she turned to leave. I took a deep breath and called after her, my voice calm. “Beatrice.” She paused, glancing back. “What?” The sound of a slap echoed in the corridor as my palm connected with her cheek. Beatrice froze, staring at me in shock, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Melany, are you crazy?” She raised a hand as if to strike back, then hesitated and let it fall. Covering her face, she adopted an air of helplessness, tears brimming in her eyes. “Beatrice!” A worried voice called out behind me. “Get away from her!” A large hand shoved me aside, and Charlie rushed past me to her side. I stumbled, my body lurching forward. Before I could catch myself, I tumbled down the stairs. Pain shot through me as I hit the bottom. Blood trickled from a gash on my forehead, my limbs throbbing from the fall. But Charlie didn’t even glance my way. He was too busy cradling Beatrice’s reddened cheek, his voice soft with concern. “Are you okay? Let me take you home and get this taken care of.” With that, he wrapped an arm around her and led her away, leaving me there without a second thought. I dragged myself up, my body aching, and went to the hospital on my own. After getting treated, I headed straight to the airport. While waiting for my flight, I opened my phone. Using Charlie’s account, I sent his colleagues everything, including the full story of us, evidence of his affair with Beatrice… As I stood at the gate, ready to board, my phone lit up with calls and messages pouring in nonstop.

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Six months ago, my husband, Matthew Wright, hired a stunning new secretary, Everly Tate. They were inseparable in public, always holding hands without a hint of shame. The entire company was waiting for me, the CEO’s wife, to become the laughingstock. Behind closed doors, they even placed bets that my husband would divorce me within three months. I watched them making out in the back seat of the car and calmly started recording on my phone. They were right about one thing, divorce was coming. But I would be the one walking away. I tapped on the car window. The window rolled down, and my husband’s face twisted with annoyance at the interruption. “Nicole Samson, Everly is just a secretary. Must you harass us every single day?” In the past, I would have made a scene. But now, I just smiled sweetly, “The house is all cleaned up. You’ll be much more comfortable there.” ***** When Matthew stepped out of the car to scold me, his wrinkled shirt still bore traces of lipstick. “Nicole, are you following me?” I shook my head and replied in a neutral tone, “I’m just shopping. I didn’t expect to run into you and her working here.” But Matthew wasn’t buying it. He grabbed my wrist tightly, speaking through gritted teeth. “Cut the act. Your comment was clearly implying something is going on between us. “I’ve told you many times, me and…” I cut him off with a smile. “I know, you guys are just colleagues. I must have seen wrong through the car window. I apologize to Ms. Tate.” I bowed my head apologetically without protest. A complete departure from my usual argumentative self. Matthew’s expression froze. I reached up to fix his collar, my fingers deliberately brushing over the lipstick mark. “Ms. Tate’s lipstick quality seems rather poor. Why don’t we go pick out a better one at the counter? My treat.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Matthew slapped me across the face. “Nicole, what’s with the snide remarks? “Evie is so busy every day that she doesn’t have time for these petty things.” I stood frozen in place. So he knew all along that busy people had no time for appearances. Yet he’d rejected my promotion application back then, citing my “unkempt appearance” as the reason. But none of that matters to me anymore. I kept recording on my phone until they walked out of the jewelry store, hand in hand, with two jade bracelets. I sent the video to my divorce lawyer. [These gifts he’s buying for his mistress. They count as our shared marital property, right?] The reply came quickly: [Yes, Ms. Samson. Are you sure you want to skip mediation and go straight to litigation? That might require more time for evidence collection and trial preparation.] I replied without hesitation: [Absolutely.] If he dared to have an affair during our marriage, he must be prepared to leave with nothing. Matthew was right about one thing. As someone with “nothing better to do”, I certainly have plenty of time to study these legal provisions. My phone chimed with a final message from the lawyer. [To prove the husband’s infidelity and violation of the prenuptial agreement, please continue gathering evidence discreetly, just as you did today.] Shortly after I got home, Matthew reluctantly returned as well. He tossed his perfume-scented shirt onto the couch and ordered. “I have a meeting tomorrow. Make sure you iron this again.” I nodded obediently, then dumped his dirty clothes on the floor. After throwing them in the washing machine, I prepared for bed. I already had trouble sleeping. Just when I finally dozed off, someone shook me awake roughly. “Get up. Everly called, saying her throat hurt. I need to go check on her.” My temples throbbed and my heart raced as I nodded weakly with a pale face. Then he added matter-of-factly, “Stop being dramatic and pretending to be sick. “Make an apple pie and drive it over later.” I pressed my throbbing temples, laughing with rage. “Apple pie, huh? Well, tell her to look forward to it!” But Matthew remained oblivious as he threw on his coat and rushed out. I opened Grabfood with practiced ease. Carefully selected and ordered an apple pie worth a whopping four dollars and fifty-six cents. To show my sincerity, I even transferred the pie from its cheap black plastic container to high-end dinnerware. I decided to deliver it personally. When I knocked on Everly’s door, Matthew answered with an irritated expression. “What took so long to make the pie?” Before I could speak, Everly, lounging on the sofa, cleared her throat theatrically. “Boss, don’t be so harsh! It’s late, and Nicole’s always been prejudiced against me. “It’s understandable if she didn’t want to deliver it.” Her words were sweet, but her eyes were full of challenge. I knew she was waiting for me to make a scene. But I just smiled and walked into her house with casual familiarity, cutting a slice of pie. “Isn’t your throat sore, Ms. Tate? You should rest your voice and eat something.” Everly’s expression turned complex as she stared at the appetizing pie in my hands. Matthew was taken aback, completely surprised by my sudden compliance. He snatched the pie from my hands and demanded, “What are you up to this time?”

“What am I up to?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Ever since Everly showed up, she had been walking all over me like she owned the place. And Matthew? He couldn’t be happier about it. I was blind before, either picking fights with Everly in public or getting into screaming matches with Matthew. In the end, everyone turned against me. They called me a drama queen who stirred up trouble for no reason. Looking back now, I really did mess up badly. Who was I to cause trouble anymore? I looked at Matthew, keeping my expression neutral. “Didn’t you ask me to bring the apple pie? Or is Ms. Tate allergic to apples?” I made sure to show a hint of concern. “Oh my bad, my bad! Matthew, quick, give me back the pie before Ms. Tate has an allergic reaction, and it affects her work!” I played both parts perfectly, reaching for the apple pie. After a couple of deliberate fumbles, I watched as the sticky pie spilled all over Everly’s clothes and the pristine white fabric sofa. Everly let out a startled cry. Her exposed skin at the neckline, where the apple pie had spilled, turned a rosy pink. Matthew’s eyes narrowed as he pulled Everly close and roughly shoved me away. The bowl in my hands shattered, slicing my palm and splattering blood across the floor. He ignored my injury completely and snarled, “What’s wrong with you? You’re almost thirty and useless! You can’t even hold a damn apple pie steady!” I was used to his rough treatment by now and just gritted my teeth while pressing down on the wound. Head bowed, I murmured, “I’m so sorry… the house isn’t really livable right now… “Perhaps Ms. Tate could stay at our place for the night?” The suggestion sounded absurd even to my ears. But it struck precisely the chord I intended. They were probably dying to spend more time together anyway, and it would give me perfect access to the dozen surveillance cameras I had at home. Sure enough, Everly couldn’t resist. Right in front of me, she draped herself around Matthew’s neck, deliberately pressing against him. Her pale pink skin peeked through the semi-sheer fabric as she tentatively offered, “Mr. Wright… maybe I should just go ahead and…” But his expression darkened as he pushed away the advancing Everly. “There’s no need for that! It’s too late to be moving around.” But Everly wouldn’t give up, clutching his hand with a wounded look. “But the apple pie burned my chest. It really hurts… And Nicole already agreed. Please take me home to put some medicine on it!” After a brief exchange, Matthew gave in to her request. Before leaving, though, there wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face. He just fixed me with a long, dark stare. I stood by the window, waiting until their car disappeared before sending Matthew a casual message. [I need to clean up the apple pie mess. I won’t be coming home tonight.] [Take care of Ms. Tate. Don’t wait up for me.] My phone helpfully chimed, indicating all cameras were connected to the cloud, ready for online storage and playback. I remained silent, a slight smile playing on my lips. When I arrived home the next day, I was surprised to find Matthew there. He looked up as I entered, his gaze heavy and his expression unreadable. “Matthew, why are you home?” Instead of answering, he grabbed my waist. “What was that about last night?” “Stop it!” I brushed his hand away, pretending not to understand. Heading straight to the kitchen, I said, “Is Ms. Tate’s throat still bothering her? I picked up some medicine this morning. Remember to tell her to come by the house…” Before I could finish, the medicine bag was suddenly snatched from my hand. Matthew’s face darkened as he roughly shoved me onto the couch. “Nicole, who are you trying to fool with this act? I’ve never seen anyone push their husband towards another woman!” He towered over me, his eyes filled with disgust. “Looks like you’ve found a new angle. You’re trying to make me sick by playing the perfect little housemaid, aren’t you?” I looked up at him and could only laugh at the absurdity. Once upon a time, I genuinely saw myself as his wife, repeatedly claiming my place whenever I needed to. But how did that end? With a harsh slap across my face and being thrown out of our home. Now that I had proof in my hands, I was finally showing him a bit of kindness. And somehow, that didn’t please him either. Men were such pathetic creatures. Anger flared in my chest as I shot him an icy glare. “I’m only concerned about Ms. Tate. After all, you said she’s your right-hand woman. Without her, the company’s operations would suffer. “I’m just thinking about the company.” But Matthew let out a sudden, scornful laugh. “We’ve been married for so many years. Why are you putting on an act?” In the next instant, he grabbed my collar and snatched a camera from the table. “You didn’t seriously think I wouldn’t catch on to your little scheme, did you? “What’s this? Stooping to such dirty tricks just to confirm your disgusting suspicions!”

My eyes widened as my heart jumped. Still, I forced myself to respond calmly. “They’re just security cameras. You’re the head of the household. They weren’t installed because of you.” As I spoke, I handed Matthew my phone, openly showing him the camera system’s backend. “If you want to check, I can share the backend access with you, too.” Matthew snatched the phone and immediately deleted last night’s footage. I pretended not to notice, deliberately putting on a dejected expression. “Matthew,” I began, my voice thick with emotion, “Do you realize you haven’t been home in two months? Not counting yesterday, that is.” My eyes welled up with tears as I looked down with a bitter smile. “It’s a huge house, thousands of square feet, and I’m all alone. I… I get scared sometimes, you know?” Matthew paused from browsing through the surveillance footage. “I was so frightened lately. I couldn’t sleep, so I installed about a dozen cameras. If you don’t like them, we can turn them off in the backend.” My calculated display of vulnerability immediately pleased Matthew. He pulled me into a protective embrace and said soothingly, “Let’s forget about this time, but tell me if you’re ever scared in the future. “Nicole, no matter what, you’re my only wife and the woman I love most. “Just stop picking fights with Everly, and after your birthday, we can try for a baby.” I nodded obediently while inwardly sneering. Soon after, my birthday celebration arrived. In our first year of marriage, Matthew had held my hand, his eyes full of love. “Nicole, whether we’re rich or poor, I promise I’ll always treat your birthday as the most important day of the year! “I’ll forever thank Heaven for sending me my one true love on this day!” He was indeed a man of his word. Even now with Everly as his mistress, he still threw me a grand birthday party. Of course, I might have been more touched if anyone had remembered to get a cake for the birthday girl. I stood among the well-dressed crowd in my everyday clothes, silently watching the couple holding hands on stage. What a perfect match. Under the guise of a “birthday party”, Matthew worked the room with a wine glass in hand, exchanging business cards left and right. They eagerly discussed various business collaborations and partnerships. Everyone had forgotten this party was meant to be my birthday celebration, everyone except Everly. As the wine flowed, the atmosphere reached its peak. Feeling irritated, I decided to leave. Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm. “Nicole, you’re the guest of honor! How can you leave so early? Don’t tell me you’re upset because Mr. Wright’s been busy with work all night?” I turned to face Everly’s beaming expression, my face darkening. Matthew spotted us from across the room and rushed over, pulling Everly into his arms. “Nicole, are you trying to start trouble with Everly again at a time like this?” He hissed, his eyes burning with anger. “You’re thirty now! Can’t you read the room like Everly does? “Are you really making a scene in front of everyone just because we didn’t get you a cake? Do you know how many cakes I could buy with the contracts I’ve secured tonight?” I smiled faintly at the growing impatience and disgust in his eyes. “Matthew, it’s just a birthday. There will be plenty more. Why would I be angry over something so small?” My smile, free of any resentment, only seemed to deepen the darkness in Matthew’s eyes. The glass in his hand froze midair. “What’s with the attitude? I threw you this huge party! What more could you possibly want?” I raised my glass and lightly clinked it against his. “I’m thrilled about such a grand party! Besides, these are just minor details. You and Ms. Tate just focus on having a good time.” Matthew snapped, gripping my wrist and hissing in my ear, “Fine, I admit I messed up! I’ll make it up to you with a vacation to Malt Island when I have time, okay?” I curved my lips into a smile. Back when I loved him, I knew he had trouble admitting his faults. Whenever he made the first move to apologize, I would forgive him unconditionally. But now, I couldn’t care less about his apologies. Tonight, I would destroy both him and his mistress. I pulled my hand away and smiled sweetly. “I need to grab something from the car. I’ll be right back.” When I returned, I held a black velvet box in my hands. I walked in and immediately linked arms with Everly, who stood beside Matthew and headed straight for the stage. As all eyes in the room turned to us, the large screen behind me went dark, then began playing the video automatically.   The two figures in the video became entangled the moment they entered the room. In just ten seconds of footage, several pieces of clothing were already scattered across the floor. The video ended with Matthew lifting Everly onto the bedroom bed, pinning her beneath him. As the screen went black, a spotlight suddenly illuminated Everly and me. Her face was as white as chalk. The microphone amplified my voice to fill the entire room. I turned to face Everly in her elegant attire and spoke with sincere politeness, “I’ve always known Ms. Tate to be meticulous and talented at her work. “However, I never realized she was so dedicated to performing such… round-the-clock services. “Since it’s my birthday today, I’d like to thank Ms. Tate for her hard work specially. “While my husband manages our family assets, I can at least offer Ms. Tate a vacation opportunity on the Malt Island.” Still smiling, I opened the small box in my hands. I removed a plain ring and placed it in Everly’s palm. “This ring is a bit tarnished, not worthy of me anymore. Consider it your gift.” As I announced this loudly, I caught sight of Matthew in my peripheral vision, restrained by my bodyguards. His eyes were bloodshot, fixed intensely on that single ring. It was our wedding ring. “Nicole, you fucking bitch!” he screamed. In a surge of rage, he somehow broke free from the two security guards and aimed a vicious kick at me. Chaos erupted instantly. Before I could process what was happening, Matthew grabbed my wrist in an iron grip and threw me into the car. The door slammed shut with a deafening bang. In the dim light, he wrapped his hand around my throat in a death grip. His words came out in a murderous hiss, “Nicole, have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Blood vessels burst in his eyes as he stared at me with pure hatred. Trembling with fury, his hands tightened around my neck as if he wanted nothing more than to end my life right there. “You worthless whore, you actually… you actually dared to leak this! “And for what? Everly? That second-rate mistress? You’d destroy me for someone like that? “After I was going to make you the president’s wife of the Wright Group for life! It is how you repay me!” I was starting to black out. Driven by survival instinct, I frantically clawed at his hands when suddenly a phone rang like a death knell. The moment the phone was answered, I was finally released and began coughing violently. Through the phone came a panicked voice, shouting frantically, “Mr. Wright, the incident from the party has leaked!” Hearing this, Matthew immediately forgot about me. He rushed out the door. I took my time, waiting until he left before checking my phone. Sure enough, the topic was trending. [Wright Group’s internal party! CEO’s wife creates malicious rumors about female employees out of jealousy. Sources say the victim now suffers from depression. Will there be an official statement? @WrightGroupOfficial] The video had been edited, with my voice and lip movements replaced using AI. Combined with provocative screenshots and commentary, it had completely inflamed public opinion. [I heard the company maliciously fired this poor girl! That old witch is disgusting!] [Typical trophy wife behavior! She thinks every woman wants to steal her precious husband!] [Can someone dig up her social media accounts? We need to cyberbully her off the internet!] The comment section was flooded with vicious insults and curses. While scrolling, Matthew called again, his voice seething with anger. “You worthless piece of trash, I’m warning you! “Stay in the car and don’t move. If this mess isn’t cleaned up today, you can expect divorce papers, you bitch.” I let out a soft laugh, my voice oddly cheerful. “An amicable divorce? Oh, Matthew… you’re really living in a fantasy world.” The moment those words left my lips, I posted it. A pre-written post appeared on my profile. The post was simple, featuring just three pieces of evidence. A photo of our marriage certificate and a complete video from the birthday party… And finally, a court summons. [See you in court, Matthew.]

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On the wedding day, my husband suddenly lost contact. I was sitting alone in a wheelchair and being gossiped about by the guests. Just when I was worried about his safety, I heard someone laughing loudly next to me. “Yesterday, Quiana posted on Instagram that she was coming back, and then there was no groom at the wedding today. I wonder how Jesse, who is so outstanding, could be willing to marry a cripple.” At this moment, I realized how ridiculous I was for insisting on not having surgery just to give him a child! I borrowed a phone from the staff before the ceremony started. The number that I had been calling for half an hour but could not get through to suddenly got through. A woman answered the phone. I lowered my voice and asked as calmly as possible, “Excuse me, is this Mr. Jesse Zander?” The woman said casually, “He’s busy and didn’t bring his phone. If you have anything to say, just tell me directly.” Then, a familiar voice came from the phone. “Quiana, get me a towel…” My heart tightened. It was Jesse! The woman asked me a few questions impatiently. After not hearing me speak, she hung up the phone. Before the phone was hung up, I heard the woman complain softly, “You can come out naked to get it yourself. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before…” The lights suddenly dimmed. The big screen behind me was playing the proposal video we had filmed in advance. In the video, I was sitting in a wheelchair, holding a bouquet of flowers in my hand, smiling happily at the camera. “Jesse, I am willing to be your wife. From now on, I will do my best to care for you, love you, and make you happy. Will you marry me?” Then, there was a long silence. The host realized that the situation had changed and quickly winked at the person in charge of the screen and turned off the video. And no one responded to my proposal. Jesse’s childhood friend burped and yelled, “No wonder my buddy ran away. It turned out that this woman was pestering him. I just can’t understand why my buddy, with such good conditions, had to marry such a useless woman who can’t even stand up.” There was a burst of laughter from the guests. My hands and feet were cold, and my body was shaking. When planning the wedding, Jesse wanted to add some interactive features. So we each recorded a video proposing to each other, planning to release it on the wedding day, and then respond in front of everyone. But Jesse broke his promise. And my video was released first. Everything was so ironic. I looked around the audience and saw everyone’s contempt and ridicule. I suddenly realized that everyone sitting in the audience was Jesse’s friend. And there was nothing in my life except Jesse. The host was trying to ease the embarrassment. I took a deep breath, pulled the wheelchair joystick, and left. I hid in a quiet place and called my attending physician, James Quinn. “Dr. Quinn, I decided to accept your advice and go abroad for surgery.”

Late at night, I turned off the lights and curled up in bed. I didn’t know how long it took, but the other side of the bed suddenly sank, and a hand was around my waist. “I know you must have been awake. Are you angry with me?” I didn’t reply. “I heard that you left just as the wedding started today. On such an important day, I couldn’t be with you. It’s really my fault. Forget it this time. We will have another one. I will definitely make it up to you.” I still didn’t say anything. He was a little anxious. “Tiffany, I really didn’t mean it. Something important suddenly happened in the company, and I couldn’t ignore it. You’ve always been considerate of me. You won’t get angry with me for such a small thing, right?” He leaned closer to me. A pungent fragrance rushed into my nose. My stomach churned, and I pushed him away. Jesse thought I was throwing a tantrum. The more I pushed him, the closer he came. “I know that I embarrassed you in front of so many people by not attending today. I promise you that I will definitely hold another wedding to help you regain your dignity!” The smell of cheap shower gel mixed with the aftertaste of sex surged in my nose. I finally couldn’t help it and vomited all the food I had eaten at noon. Jesse was shocked. He cursed in a low voice and turned on the light. Maybe it was because I looked too embarrassed that Jesse got scared. He was covered with my vomit. His face was full of disgust and impatience. The moment I looked up, he immediately changed his expression to worry. “Tiffany, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Let’s go to the hospital…” As soon as he approached me, I immediately turned my head and covered my mouth. He looked at me angrily. “I have already apologized to you. What else do you want? You know I love you the most. You know I care about your health the most. Do you have to make such a fuss over such a small thing? You want to punish me in this way?” I said lightly, “The smell of the cheap shower gel on you is too pungent. I can’t stand it.” He was stunned for a moment and glanced away with a guilty look. I didn’t ask any more questions. Jesse explained in a panic that he accidentally stained his clothes when he went to the hotel to discuss business. He was afraid that I would be upset, so he took a shower and changed his clothes. But he was wearing the same clothes he had worn when he went out in the morning. I wanted to tell him that I was lame, but I was not blind. But I said nothing. He squatted down and looked at me anxiously. “Tiffany, why don’t you say anything? Don’t torture yourself, no matter how angry you are. You can scold me. It’s all my fault.” He took my hand and slapped him in the face. I sighed and pulled my hand back. He pretended to slap himself again. “I should have canceled the wedding today. I shouldn’t have left you alone there. It’s all my fault…” I didn’t want to watch his performance anymore, so I shook my head. “Don’t be like this. I’m fine.” His eyes lit up. “Tiffany, you forgive me, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer his question. I urged him to change his clothes and take a shower. Seeing him relieved, I just felt ridiculous. He thought his mistake was not to cancel the wedding, not to leave me for another woman on the wedding day. I propped myself up and moved to the wheelchair with difficulty. I was about to go to the second bedroom when I saw Jesse’s phone light up. He forgot to lock the screen. It was the first time I checked his phone. I was a little nervous. Afraid of being discovered by him, I only clicked on a group chat with no new messages. The group was full of his friends. I saw the man who had just sincerely begged for my forgiveness in front of me, mocking me with his friends in the group and belittling me to nothing. [If it wasn’t because she saved my life, how could I have liked a disabled woman?] [But it doesn’t matter. Marrying a disabled wife can help me create a loving personality. My social evaluation will also improve.] [Quiana said she doesn’t care about marriage. She just wants to be with me. I will have two families in the future. Don’t envy me too much!] After reading these messages, I didn’t seem to be very sad. But somehow, salty tears flowed from my eyes. I put his phone back in its place and took my things to the second bedroom. I dragged my body to take a shower and climbed onto the bed with difficulty. These habitual actions that I did day after day were unexpectedly tiring to do at that moment. I lay on the bed with my whole body weak, and past memories flooded into my mind. Jesse and I grew up together. Eight years ago, when he just turned eighteen, he bought a motorcycle. When he wanted to show off his skills, he failed and was dragged several feet away by the bike. I saw that the bike was leaking oil and could explode at any time. But I still helped him to tear off the clothes that were hooked by the bike. When I helped him run, my eyes suddenly went black, and I fell down. Before I fainted, I pushed him with my last consciousness and urged him to run quickly. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on a hospital bed. I couldn’t feel my lower body. Only then did I realize that the motorcycle exploded not long after I fainted. My spine was severely damaged, and I was completely paralyzed below the lumbar spine. My parents rushed back from other places after hearing the news, but they had a car accident on the way. I became an orphan. At that time, Jesse hugged me and apologized to me while crying with me. “Tiffany, it’s all my fault. It’s all because of me. I promise you that I will always be with you. From now on, I will be your crutch!”   After that, Jesse really kept his promise and took care of me meticulously. He naturally became my boyfriend. I was doing rehabilitation training while studying. Jesse originally said that he would marry me after I graduated. But he was starting a business at that time. I didn’t want to distract him, so I didn’t mention it. In the next few years, I worked hard with him and helped him develop his company better and better. I gave him the money my parents left me, supported his career, and brought him to live in my house. To thank me, we got married immediately. He was too busy at the time, and his financial situation was not good, so we didn’t organize a wedding. He promised to arrange a wedding for me when his career was stable. But after waiting for so many years, there was no wedding. Until James told me that there was a new technology abroad that could make me stand up. But if I received treatment, I might lose my fertility. I told Jesse about this. Jesse stammered that he was the only child in his family, and his parents hoped to have a grandchild as soon as possible. He later said he would respect my opinion, but I still decided to postpone the treatment. Even though I knew that the longer I delayed, the less likely I would stand up, I still made the choice without hesitation. I wanted to give him a child. Jesse was very happy after hearing this, and then he began to prepare for the wedding. But I didn’t expect such a ridiculous ending. Early the next morning, Jesse prepared breakfast. He pushed me to the living room. He touched my face with his hand and said in distress, “Why are you so haggard? Didn’t you sleep well? I shouldn’t have listened to you yesterday. Even if the bed in the second bedroom is small, you could at least sleep well in my arms.” He said lovingly, “Tiffany, you can’t live without me.” I shuddered, and a sour liquid in my throat was about to come out again. At this time, the doorbell rang. Jesse got up and opened the door. “Mr. Zander, I’m here to see you and Tiffany!” I knew it was Quiana Foster just by listening to the voice. She used to be Jesse’s assistant. At that time, Jesse always mentioned her to me. I could feel Jesse’s appreciation for her. But not long after that, Quiana resigned. After she left, Jesse was depressed for a while, and it took a long time for him to recover. When I heard her name yesterday, I knew that everything was over.   I just didn’t expect that she couldn’t wait to come to my house after they had just been intimate yesterday. Jesse gave Quiana a secret wink. Quiana, however, pretended not to notice and moved closer to me. “Tiffany, I haven’t seen you for a few years. You are getting more and more beautiful. “I heard that yesterday was your wedding with Mr. Zander. Unfortunately, I just came back yesterday and missed it. “So I immediately bought gifts for you. I wish you a happy marriage.” I smiled, “Thank you for your blessing. But Jesse was too busy yesterday, so the wedding was canceled. Didn’t you know?” Quiana pretended to be surprised. “How could Mr. Zander do this? The wedding is so important. How could it be canceled because of work?” Jesse smiled awkwardly. He said that this time the situation was special and he would make up for the wedding for me. Quiana glanced at him and said meaningfully, “Mr. Zander, you have to make it up to Tiffany!” Jesse urged Quiana to leave. But Quiana looked at the breakfast on the table and said she wanted to stay and eat with us. She wanted to help me push the wheelchair, but Jesse subconsciously stopped her. “Mr. Zander, don’t you trust me?” Quiana snorted and turned around angrily but knocked the vase off. The fragments flew up and cut her calf. Jesse quickly helped her sit down. He turned around to get the first aid kit and squatted down to apply medicine to her. At this time, my cell phone rang. Jesse was stunned for a moment and looked at me cautiously. I said lightly, “Quiana is injured. Apply medicine to her, and don’t let her leave scars. I’ll go get this.” I moved the wheelchair to the balcony by myself. The nurse confirmed the time for the abortion operation with me. I glanced at the living room. Quiana held her hands in front of her chest, pouted, and threw a tantrum. Jesse helped her apply medicine while coaxing her. I calmly confirmed all the information. After hanging up the phone, I touched my lower abdomen. “I’m sorry. I’m not destined to be your mother.”

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My secret relationship with my celebrity boyfriend had lasted for five years. He made the announcement, and I only found out about it from trending news. Since Robert Yeardley debuted, he had been linked to countless stars and influencers, but he only acknowledged Beth Southgate as his girlfriend. Before I could even confront him, Robert came barging into my office with his new girlfriend. In front of everyone, he slapped me just because I refused to perform breast augmentation surgery on Beth. He snapped, “Sofia Wardle, you’re just jealous of Beth. Look at that scar on your face. How dare you criticize others?” The burning pain on my cheek and the public humiliation made me lose all feelings for the man I had loved for five years. With tears in my eyes, I took off the engagement ring and threw it in Robert’s face. “Let’s break up!” I shouted. This time, I wasn’t turning back. When Robert broke into my office with Beth, my shift was ending. I was already frustrated, having just seen their relationship announcement on trending news. Now I was fed up. Robert didn’t even give me a heads-up. He just told me Beth needed breast surgery for her next role. I wanted to ask him about the trending news, but I didn’t want to affect his work. Suppressing my anger, I decided to wait until I could talk to him alone. I took a deep breath, put on my gloves, and stood up. “Ms. Southgate, please take a seat.” Robert shot me a glare and helped Beth sit down. As soon as my fingers touched Beth’s clothes, she screamed, “Ah. What are you doing? You hurt me.” Robert yanked me away and rushed to check on her. I was thrown off balance and bumped into the edge of the desk. My wrist swelled up instantly. I winced in pain and turned to see Robert’s tenderness and concern for Beth. It was something I hadn’t received for a long time. When we first got together, he would even fuss over me if I just coughed. “Sofia, you did that on purpose, didn’t you? Can’t you be more careful?” he spat. I held back the bitterness and continued with the examination. As soon as my hand contacted her breast, I sensed something wasn’t right. “Ms. Southgate, typically, breast augmentation surgery isn’t recommended to be repeated,” I said while removing my gloves. “It can lead to infection and even tissue growth.” Beth blushed, not daring to look me in the eye. “What do you mean? I don’t understand,” she said. “You must have just had an implant recently, right?” I asked. She was angry, but when she turned to look at Robert, her expression changed. She began to whine, “Robert, I didn’t. I don’t understand why she’s saying this about me.” Robert glared at me. “You’re lying. Beth’s are natural.” I knew he wouldn’t believe me, so I didn’t bother explaining further. “Sorry, maybe my skills aren’t up to par. You should find a better doctor,” I said. I grabbed my bag, ready to clock out for the day. “Sofia, stop!” Robert yelled, chasing after me. The door slammed loudly, attracting the attention of many patients and nurses. “Apologize to Beth.” He grabbed my arm, frowning at me. Beth, in her gloating joy, didn’t forget to stir the pot. “I’m a patient. I don’t know how I offended you. How could you judge me like that?” she accused. She dropped a few tears, and the people around us started whispering. Robert’s anger deepened. “Dr. Wardle, I think you must be jealous of other beautiful women because you’re ugly, right?” He smirked, reaching up to push my hair aside. The scar on my forehead was exposed. I flinched and quickly tried to adjust my hair. “Apologize to her,” he demanded. We had been together for five years. He knew exactly where my insecurities lay. But he was naïve to think he could insult my professional integrity like that. “Dream on!” I said, shaking off his hand. The sharp sound of a slap echoed through the hallway. The gossip around us went quiet. I stood there frozen, the sting of the slap ringing in my ears. I could almost hear Robert’s soft, comforting voice from five years ago. “Sofia, I’ll protect you forever.” He saw the red mark on my cheek and panicked a little. I looked at Beth and Robert. The unsuspecting crowd pointed their fingers at me. Annoyed, I took off the engagement ring and threw it in Robert’s face. “Let’s break up!” I shouted. Robert stood there, stunned. It was the first time in five years I had ever said those words to him. The crowd was growing, some even taking out their phones to record. Robert quickly grabbed Beth and fled through the fire exit. I felt warmth on my cheek and wiped the tears away.

After Robert entered the entertainment industry, he often had rumors and fake relationships with different actresses. At first, whenever such news came out, Robert would call me to explain the situation. Though I minded it, I endured it all to respect his work. But with my tolerance and understanding, Robert went further and further. There were flirtatious messages on his phone, lipstick, and stockings in the passenger seat, and then the announcement of his romantic relationship. And today, he brought Beth to my workplace and humiliated me. It was all because I exposed Beth’s lie about never having had surgery. These things had drained my love for Robert, destroying my trust and expectations. The next evening, Robert returned to our apartment. I had bought it with all my savings. I had chosen the place near the airport to make it convenient for him when he traveled. On the first day he moved in, he pointed to a large penthouse across the street and told me, “Sofia, one day, I’ll bring you to live there.” And today at noon, he swiped my card to buy Beth a handbag from Chanel. Robert had long gotten used to my patience and understanding. He looked too tired to give any explanation. “Sofia, help me grab a clean set of pajamas,” he ordered, going into the bathroom. It was as if the slap from yesterday had never happened. I remained seated on the sofa, watching him and Beth exchange glances at a press conference on the TV. When Robert finished his shower and saw there were no clothes on the rack, he shot me a glare and started rummaging through the wardrobe. Ten minutes later, he came out wearing mismatched old pajamas. He plopped down next to me without apologizing or trying to comfort me. Instead, he cast his phone to the screen to watch a game live stream. “Robert, I’ve canceled the extra card,” I said coldly. “From tomorrow, you’ll have to use your own money to buy gifts for your girlfriend.” Robert frowned. “What’s your problem now? That was just for show. Can’t you understand and support my work?” I laughed coldly, “I’m practically your nonexistent fiancée. Isn’t that enough? “I’m not causing trouble. We’re in the process of breaking up, so from now on, we’ll split the bills.” I clenched my fists, making up my mind. Robert wanted to argue, but his phone buzzed with a new message. I caught a glimpse of a voice message with the name “Babe” popping up on the screen. Undoubtedly, it was Beth. Robert got up and walked into the bathroom. “If you keep using breaking up as a threat, don’t blame me for the consequences.” I had invested five years of my youth and energy into him, giving him immense confidence. Just like before, he believed I would never leave him. Robert didn’t turn off the screen when replying to the message, and I saw he had converted Beth’s voice message into text. Beth: [How does it feel to rekindle an old love, Robert?] Robert: [She can’t compare to you. The moment you left, I started missing you.] Beth sent a kiss emoji, then added: [Dr. Wardle is still quite pretty. That’s probably why you’ve been with her for so long.] Robert: [Over time, I just got used to her. Now, every time I see the scar on her forehead, it makes me sick.] I watched in shock as Robert typed this smoothly and hit send without hesitation. I froze, my eyes fixed on the screen. The word “sick” stood out painfully. Tears instantly welled up in my eyes and slid down my cheeks. Another message came in. Beth: [My new pajamas just arrived. Robert, want to come help me unwrap them?] Robert, who had already typed “good”, suddenly paused, as if he remembered he hadn’t turned off the screen. He peeked his head out of the bathroom, but I had returned to the bedroom and lain down. He heaved a sigh of relief and quickly changed his clothes. Before leaving, he said to me, “There’s something with the crew. I’m going out for a bit.” Hearing the door close, I curled up on the bed and cried.

As Robert said, I had an ugly scar on my forehead. It was left by a human trafficker when I was trying to save a child. That scar made me the target of bullying by my peers, and it haunted me through puberty. Even after I became a top cosmetic surgeon, that scar never faded, just like the insecurities buried deep inside me. Robert was the first person to carefully hold my self-doubt. Six years ago, he was still unknown. He got disfigured in an explosion during a stunt scene. He was just like me when I was younger. Sensitive, suspicious, insecure, and always on edge. We were like two wounded beasts, licking each other’s wounds. I used everything I knew, not just to heal him, but to make his appearance even more captivating than before the injury. That surgery made me famous in the field of cosmetic surgery. I stayed with him through the long, anxious recovery period and revealed my scar to him. Robert said, “It’s a mark from a past life, guiding me to you in this one.” But now, he was attacking the fragile parts of my soul to please another woman. I felt cold all over, and my heart ached. Tears flowed uncontrollably all night, soaking half of my pillow. The next morning, I contacted a real estate agent, planning to sell the house. I showed up at the office with puffy eyes, only to find a large bouquet of purple bellflowers on my desk. They were my favorite flowers. I opened the card on the bouquet, and to my surprise, it was from Robert. He hadn’t sent me flowers in a long time. I bent down to smell them, and the fresh fragrance filled the air. At noon, Robert called me, asking me to have dinner with him that night. I almost refused, but I couldn’t resist his persistence. After finishing work early, I sat in the car, touching up my makeup. I layered a cushion foundation over my scar. By the time I reached the restaurant, Robert was already waiting at our table. He pulled out my chair and smiled at me. He said, “Sofia, it’s all your favorite food. “I was wrong the other day. I shouldn’t have hit you over something small. “And yesterday, I was so worn out from the promotion work, and I wasn’t nice to you. Please don’t be mad.” He placed the cut steak gently in front of me. I looked up at his gentle face. Just as I started to enjoy his tenderness, my reason snapped me back. “Are you trying to ask me for something?” I asked. Robert paused, caught off guard that I noticed he had an agenda. “No, I just wanted to make it up to you,” he said with an awkward smile. “Eat up.” After being together for five years, I could tell he was hiding something. “Just say it,” I said, putting down my knife and fork. “Well, Beth wants you to do a nose reconstruction surgery for her. It needs to be done before the shoot starts,” he replied. I sighed and gave a self-deprecating laugh. A heartless person would never change overnight. I must have some value again. “Beth is with the investors. You know how important that film is for me,” Robert added. He attentively poured me a glass of wine. His shirt sleeves pulled up, revealing a scar on his wrist. It was a shocking reminder of the wound he got two years ago when he jumped in front of me to protect me from a patient’s brother who attacked me with a knife. He had risked his life to protect me. We got engaged right after that accident. But now, I was nothing more than a fiancé in name, someone to be used and tossed aside when necessary. “Fine. Have her come for a consultation,” I relented. He smiled happily, but I felt bitter. “Robert, let’s break up,” I added, looking up at him. Robert froze. “What?” “I said, let’s break up. After I do the surgery for Beth, we’ll be even,” I replied. “Stop joking, Sofia. I’ve already apologized,” he said, starting to lose patience. He didn’t believe I was serious. I was about to tell him I had already listed the house with an agent when his phone rang. He answered the call and rushed out, leaving me to pay for the bill. The next day, I made time for Beth’s surgery. Beth came alone for the consultation, much more honest than the last time. She gave a full account of everything, including her eye corners, nose bridge, and all the fillers she had. The surgery went smoothly, and after a month of recovery, no one would be able to tell. After removing the stitches, Beth was satisfied with the results, and even Robert’s attitude toward me improved greatly. But none of this had anything to do with love or attachment.   I thought I was finally clear with Robert. But one morning, I was woken up by a phone call. It was Jeff Whiting calling. He was a resident in our department, three years younger than me. We went to the same school. I picked up, and his anxious voice came through. “Sofia, where are you?” “I’m at home. What’s wrong?” I rubbed my sleepy eyes, confused. “Lock the door, close the curtains, and don’t go out,” he warned. I was puzzled and asked why, but he told me to do all that first and then check online. After hanging up, I opened my phone, and the screen was flooded with news about Beth’s disfigurement. A bad feeling hit me instantly, and I was wide awake. I sat up quickly, flipping through posts on various platforms. Beth’s nose had been ruined, and the media blamed it on me. I was shocked. Her surgery had been a success. I kept reading and soon realized that my background had been dug up. My name, education, address, and even a photo of me with a scar on my forehead had been posted. I gasped in shock. I rarely posted photos with my scar visible. The photo on the news was one only Robert had. I scrolled through the comments, and the public opinion was turning against me. [She must be jealous of Beth’s beauty.] [What a waste of her face! This is crazy.] [How could someone like her still be a doctor?] [Take her to court. Ugly people always cause trouble.] ***** Some even exposed other failed cases from my hospital’s plastic surgery department. Some were true, others fake. People even started spreading rumors, saying I was trying to get back at Robert’s girlfriend because I had feelings for him. It was clear that Beth was behind this campaign, but I couldn’t understand. Her nose had been fine after the stitches were removed. I looked at all the hateful comments, feeling dizzy. I stood up and splashed cold water on my face. After calming down, I dialed Robert’s number. Even if he didn’t care about our five-year relationship, at least he shouldn’t let me get caught in the middle of this public outrage. I called him ten times, but he didn’t answer. Panic surged through me. I started to feel like Robert might have either allowed or even participated in setting me up. Soon, I got a call from the hospital’s management. They wanted me to apologize to calm things down. “This isn’t my fault. The surgery went smoothly. The hospital’s records are clear,” I argued. “I know, but the public opinion is getting out of hand. If you apologize, it will reduce the negative impact,” said the caller. “Also, Dr. Wardle, the hospital might ask you to take a break for a while. Prepare yourself.” Before I could respond, the line went dead. I sank onto the sofa, staring at those comments. My eyes stung with tears. In all my years of work, I’d never been careless with a patient. Whether it was a small corner of the eye or a major burn reconstruction, I always gave my all to help patients regain their confidence, being as careful as possible with each surgery. But now, Robert and Beth had thrown dirt at me, nearly destroying the career I was so proud of.   Robert finally returned my call. “Robert, what’s going on online?” I asked. “Sofia, I’m sorry. Can you please help me out?” Robert pleaded. “If you don’t, my career is over.” He then confessed everything to me. Beth had a wealthy backer who had been supporting her by investing in drama productions, helping her rise to fame. But behind his back, Beth was having an affair with Robert while also flirting with other male actors. Her backer found out and hit her, knocking her nose out of shape. She managed to appease him, but her damaged nose was too much to explain to the media. To shift the focus, Beth fabricated a story about my surgery failure and directed the online outrage toward me, hoping to use me as a scapegoat and boost her fame. Robert added, “Sofia, you’re just a regular person. You’ll only need to apologize in front of the cameras. “The internet has no memory. After a while, everyone will forget about it. It won’t affect you.” I listened to his nonsense and sneered. I asked, “Have you considered the consequences? This could ruin my career.” There was a long silence before he summoned up his courage. “It’s fine. If worse comes to worst, I’ll support you. “Please, help us. Or both my future and Beth’s are ruined. “You know how hard it was for me to get to where I am.” He sounded like it was easy for me to get there. He had torn away his mask, revealing his true colors. “Alright, I’ll do it,” I said. Robert thanked me profusely, but I hung up. The screen lit up, showing a prompt: [Do you want to save this call recording?]

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My name was Felicity Simons, and I was a foster child of the Gellar family. Growing up, the twin brothers Ryan and Logan Gellar lavished me with affection, treating me like a princess and playfully arguing over who would marry me when we got older. But everything changed when Rebecca Amore and I were abducted. The kidnappers made it clear they could only save one of us, and without hesitation, they threw me to the wolves. “As long as Rebecca Amore is safe, you can do whatever you want with Felicity.” “Felicity’s tough; she can handle the pain. But Rebecca is delicate—she can’t take any harm.” They cast me aside, sacrificing me for Rebecca’s life. I fought through the agony of my injuries and managed to escape. The very first thing I did was call Vincent Gellar, their father, my heart racing as the phone rang. “I’m ready to accept the marriage alliance with the Anderson family.” I crawled home from the kidnappers’ den, my hands and feet raw and bleeding. My heart shattered into a million pieces as I saw Ryan and Logan lounging on the couch, casually giving Rebecca a leg massage. While I was fighting for my life on the brink of death, not a single one of them cared about my well-being. I stood at the door for what felt like an eternity until Logan finally noticed me. He raised his chin slightly and let out a laugh that seemed out of place. “See? I told you she’d be back within twenty-four hours. She’s always been crafty and full of tricks. Kidnappers? Please, she could handle that like it’s child’s play. Ryan, I win the bet; your sports car is mine now.” They were twins—Ryan, the older brother, and Logan, the younger one. Ryan groaned in frustration. “Damn it, if I had known she’d come back this quickly, I wouldn’t have taken that bet. I thought she’d drag it out a bit longer.” My voice trembled with anger. “Why didn’t you come to save me?” I had endured a whole day of torture at the hands of kidnappers, my body bruised and battered. If I hadn’t managed to sneak the keys, I might not be standing here now. At that moment, Rebecca coughed softly from the couch. The brothers immediately turned their attention to her, fussing over her with coffee and water. Logan suddenly shot me a glare. “This is all your fault, Felicity. You knew Rebecca wasn’t well and still dragged her around, making her catch a chill. Look at her legs—they’re swollen!” Ryan added, “If she gets any worse, you’re going to pay for it!” I was completely lost. It was Rebecca who insisted on going out, claiming she wanted to see some fireworks. Instead, we ended up in a remote area and got kidnapped. I mused, “I’m the victim here! Why is everyone blaming me?” “That’s not true! She was the one who wanted to go out; I was just…” I gasped, the pain tightening in my chest as I spoke. Suddenly, Rebecca interrupted me, sitting up weakly on the couch, clutching Ryan and Logan’s hands tightly. Her pale face looked ready to crumble, tears welling up in her eyes. “Please don’t blame Felicity; it’s my fault. I grew up with no one to care for me, barely enough to eat, and my health has always been poor. I couldn’t escape on my own, and that’s why she suffered with me. “It’s all my fault; if you’re going to blame someone, blame me.” As she cried, Ryan and Logan’s expressions softened, their brows furrowing in concern as they rushed to wipe her tears away. Ryan said, “Rebecca, you’re too sweet; it’s not your fault at all.” Logan chimed in, “Yeah! We know you’re kind-hearted, but don’t defend Felicity. We know her well enough. She’s always been selfish, never thinking of anyone but herself. “Everything she went through today is just what she deserves. But you, Rebecca, you’re different. You’re kind and pure, and you deserve nothing but the best.” With each word they spoke, my heart sank deeper. I mused, “Why is this happening?” They used to dote on me so much. Ever since I was taken in by the Gellar family, they cared for me with such tenderness, treating me like I was their whole world. Whatever I wanted, I’d have it by the next day. They fought over who would marry me when we grew up, even brawling over it more than once. Then Rebecca came along, the second foster child of the Gellar family. At first, they didn’t like her at all. I had to spend countless hours convincing them of her worth, bringing her along everywhere, trying to help them accept her. Eventually, they did accept her, but with that acceptance came a complete shift in their affection. All the love they once showered on me was redirected to her, and their attitude towards me changed dramatically. Now, it felt like I didn’t even recognize them anymore.

Hobbling back to my room, I knelt beside the bed, my bloodstained hands shaking as I dialed Vincent’s number. “Dad, about that marriage alliance you mentioned—I’m ready to go through with it.” Vincent was a busy man, mostly engrossed in his work. To him, raising a foster daughter was just a means to an end, driven by business interests. “Good girl, that’s the right choice. Once you’re wed to the Anderson family, I’ll ensure you have a generous dowry. You’ll never have to worry about money again.” That was enough for me. I just wanted to escape, to put as much distance as possible between me and the three of them. It took me over an hour to scrub the blood and grime off my body. The moment the water hit my wounds, sharp, searing pain shot through me. That night was a whirlwind of nightmares. I kept reliving the moment Ryan and Logan had pushed me toward the kidnappers, trading my life for Rebecca’s. They had sneered that I was tough, while Rebecca was fragile. That was why they decided not to save me, gently cradling Rebecca as they whisked her away. She hadn’t even gotten her dress dirty. And I? I was left to endure wave after wave of torment. In the dead of night, a searing pain shot through my chest, and I doubled over, coughing up blood. I managed to call for an ambulance, throwing on some clothes as I stumbled down the stairs. Just as I reached the bottom step, I heard Rebecca’s voice call out softly behind me. “Felicity, where are you going so late?” She floated toward me like a ghost, moving silently in the dim light. I ignored her, determined to keep walking, but she laughed from behind. “Are you really going to pretend you don’t hear me?” Without warning, she yanked my arm and screamed, “Help! Help me!” Before I knew it, Ryan and Logan burst through their bedroom doors. In an instant, Rebecca and I swapped places; she held on tight as she yanked me down the stairs. My feet left the ground, and I tumbled down, pain erupting in my body as I landed, blood spewing from my mouth. Logan reached me just in time, catching Rebecca effortlessly in his arms as she feigned distress. “Ryan, I think I twisted my ankle. It hurts so much!” Rebecca cried, her voice dripping with false innocence. Ryan dropped to the floor, his hands working to soothe her. With each rub, she winced and cried out, “That hurts, Logan! Stop it, please…” Ryan and Logan’s anger flared. Ryan sprinted down the steps, eyes blazing as he kicked me hard in the stomach. “You venomous witch! What did Rebecca ever do to you that you’d want to hurt her like this?” Logan, still holding Rebecca, glared at me. “With jealousy like yours, you deserve nothing but misery.” I curled into a ball on the floor, my body convulsing from the impact, unable to utter a single word. Outside, I heard the distant sirens of the ambulance approaching. I struggled to focus, my fingers digging into the carpet, desperate to pull myself up. But Logan stepped down, pinning my hand beneath his foot. Blood gushed from my wound, and I gasped, “Please, let me go…” His voice dripped with disdain. “What makes you think you deserve a ride in an ambulance? If you want to get to the hospital, crawl there yourself.” With that, they carried Rebecca out, leaving me behind, a writhing mess on the floor. The sirens faded into the night as darkness swallowed me whole.

When I finally regained consciousness, I found myself in a hospital room. It was the maid who had come in for her morning shift that discovered me. Two of my ribs were broken, and my body was covered in various wounds. The doctor warned me that one of my ribs had nearly punctured my heart. I had come so close to never opening my eyes again. A nurse, her face filled with concern, leaned in. “Do you have a family member I can call for you? You’re going to need someone now that you’re so weak.” I managed a faint smile, though it felt hollow. “Thanks, but I don’t have anyone.” My mind flashed back to the very same family that had turned their backs on me not so long ago. They had chosen to let me die while they cursed me to my fate. Exhausted, I closed my eyes again. Moments later, another nurse entered, talking softly with a coworker. “Hey, I just saw the most incredible pair of twins in the next room. They are stunning! I almost asked for their numbers.” “Why didn’t you?” the other nurse asked, intrigued. “Ugh, they’re definitely not single. They were hovering over this girl, feeding her by hand. When I told them she was fine, they shot me dirty looks.” My heart twinged painfully at their words. I mused, “Why does she have to waltz in and take everything from me so effortlessly?” After what felt like an eternity, the IV drips were finally done, and I was allowed to get up and go to the restroom. My bladder had been holding on for far too long, creating an uncomfortable pressure. Of course, I couldn’t rush—I could only move slowly, inching my way to the door. But as I reached the threshold, I looked up to find Ryan and Logan standing guard, blocking my way like sentinels. I tried to sidestep them, but Ryan stuck his arm out to stop me. “What’s the matter? Are you blind or mute? Can’t you see us? You’d think the Gellar family raised you better than this. Real classy, Felicity.” Logan crossed his arms, a mocking smile on his face. “Seriously, you can’t expect everyone to be as clever as Rebecca.” Ryan scoffed, saying, “Don’t put me in the same league as her. She’s not worthy of the comparison.” I felt my fists tighten and gritted my teeth. “Is that all you have to say?” The discomfort in my abdomen was overwhelming, leaving me with no patience for their taunts. “If you’re done, can you move? You shouldn’t linger around the ladies’ room like this. You might give someone the wrong idea.” With a frustrated shove, I pushed Ryan’s hand away, clutching my stomach as I tried to walk past them. But Logan had other plans; he stuck out a foot, and before I knew it, I was tripping over him, landing hard on the cold, unforgiving floor. “Ah!” The sharp pain in my chest and abdomen made me cry out, tears streaming down my face as I struggled to catch my breath. I felt like a stranded fish, flopping helplessly on the floor. Logan’s laughter cut through the air, cruel and unrelenting. “Oh, look at you! You really know how to play the victim. Why don’t you just stay down there?” Just then, Rebecca emerged from the restroom, looking down at me. With a casual flick of her wrist, she splashed water from her hands onto my hair. “Oh, Felicity! What are you doing on the floor? Do you need a hand?” The moment she stepped out, Ryan and Logan surged toward her like dogs drawn to a bone. Without a second thought, Ryan scooped her up, grinning. “Let her have her moment. Ignore her, Rebecca. She’s always got something scheming in her mind. You, on the other hand, are too sweet for her games.” Logan parsed over, his concern exaggerated. “So, Rebecca, how’s that foot of yours? Still hurting?” Rebecca pouted playfully. “It still hurts a lot. Will you rub it for me? I heard that helps!” The brothers hovered around her, eager to oblige, each trying to outdo the other as they fawned over her. They exchanged flirtatious banter while I lay on the ground, writhing in pain. It felt as if my whole body were shaking apart. Just when I thought I might pass out, the nurse from before rushed over, clearly alarmed, and helped me back to my feet. I choked, blood rising in my throat, and spat out another mouthful.   The nurse, clearly flustered, called for help. Ryan glanced down at me with a dismissive air and said to the nurse, “Are you a doctor? What’s with your eyesight? Can’t you tell she’s just putting on a show?” The nurse shot back, her voice laced with anger. “What kind of eyes do you have? Her limbs and organs are damaged! She’s in real pain—why don’t you try pretending to be hurt?” For a brief moment, they exchanged a look, a silence hanging between them. But I didn’t have the energy to focus on their exchange; I leaned heavily on the nurse’s shoulder, waiting for someone to arrive. As the minutes dragged on, the pain became unbearable. Logan, as if suddenly struck by a sense of guilt, reluctantly crouched down beside me, reaching out. “Come on, it’s just a little discomfort. You’re really milking this, aren’t you?” But before his hand could touch me, I swatted it away with a fierce motion. My eyes blazed with fury as I shouted, “Get away from me! Don’t you dare touch me!” They were the ones responsible for my suffering. I didn’t need their fake pity. Logan’s expression darkened, and he muttered a curse under his breath, “Oh, so you’ve got some guts now, huh, Felicity? You think you can hit me and get away with it? Fine, just know that if you end up in trouble, I won’t lift a finger to help you.” Just as he finished speaking, a tall figure strode over from a distance. He bent down carefully and lifted me off the ground. I caught a whiff of his pleasant, woody scent, and at that moment, my frazzled nerves began to settle. Logan, blocking our path, demanded, “Who are you?” The smooth, deep voice that carried an air of authority came. “I’m her fiancé, Oliver Anderson. Move aside.” At the mention of his name, both Ryan and Logan flinched, instinctively stepping aside. Oliver carried me a few paces away, and I could still hear Ryan seething behind us. “When did she get involved with the Anderson family? Ha, I underestimated her. She’s quite the manipulator, isn’t she?” It seemed they were wary of my fiancé, which only made me more determined to be with him. Oliver and I weren’t strangers. Ever since I turned eighteen, Vincent had been orchestrating opportunities for me to interact with him, all while keeping Ryan and Logan in the dark. They had been overly protective, forbidding me from associating with any other guys. Once I realized Vincent’s intentions, I started to resist. It had been nearly two years since I last saw Oliver, yet he remained just as charming as ever. “Oliver, thank you for coming to my aid,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath as I lay on the hospital bed. He sat beside me, looking deeply into my eyes before tucking the blanket around me. “No need to thank me. Just focus on resting; I’ll be on my way.” As he turned to leave, I reached out with trembling fingers, catching his hand gently. “Could you wait a moment?” His fingers stiffened slightly. “Sure,” he replied, settling back down with a patient demeanor. I gathered my thoughts, hesitating before speaking, “We’re going to get married, right?”   Oliver paused for a few seconds before nodding. “Yes.” Then he continued, “This is essentially a union between two families, but if you’re truly unwilling, I won’t force you into it.” Panic gripped me at the thought of rejection. “No, I want this! I definitely want this.” I was desperate to escape my current situation, and if I had to leverage a “marriage” to find my worth, Oliver was my top choice. Perhaps my eagerness surprised him; he looked down and chuckled, a hint of astonishment in his tone. “I thought you hated me.” “Why would you think that?” I asked, genuinely confused. “Two years ago, I thought you agreed to meet me. I waited for you for ages, but you never showed up.” There was an almost imperceptible note of disappointment in his voice. Suddenly, memories flooded back. I remembered that day vividly. Two years ago, I had considered him a friend, so when I received his invitation for dinner, I eagerly accepted. But that day, Logan had fallen ill. He cried and begged me to stay with him, refusing to see a doctor otherwise. That evening, Vincent had found me and insisted I charm Oliver. It was then that I first grasped the harsh reality of my situation. I understood that I was merely a pawn in someone else’s game. I didn’t want to live like that, so I rebelled, resisted, and sought to change my fate. From that day on, I avoided Oliver completely. I hadn’t anticipated the misunderstanding it would create. “I never hated you. I was just too young and naive back then, thinking I could fight against my destiny. I’m sorry, Oliver, for not showing up that day.” It felt like a long-overdue apology. Oliver gently ruffled my hair, his tone softening. “It’s alright. I forgive you.” I grasped his hand, my eyes pleading. “So when are we having the wedding?” “Are you in such a hurry?” he asked. “I want to do it as soon as possible. Is that okay?” Oliver squeezed my hand, his warmth seeping into me. “Absolutely.” During my hospital stay, Oliver visited me every day. On the day I was discharged, he was there to pick me up. He had clearly taken my words to heart; I had mentioned wanting to get married quickly, and by the time I left the hospital, he had already arranged the engagement party. Dressed in a pure white gown and with my makeup perfectly done, I entered the venue on Oliver’s arm. My eyes immediately landed on Ryan, Logan, and Rebecca. Ryan and Logan wore expressions that were hard to read, a mix of disbelief and disdain. Rebecca stood between them, one arm linked with each, looking like a princess in her poofy dress. Although I was one of the stars of this engagement party, Oliver, concerned about me getting tired, led me through a quick introduction before letting me rest on the sidelines. I hadn’t been seated for long when Ryan appeared behind me, gripping my arm and dragging me out of the banquet hall. Logan was waiting outside, and they formed a wall around me. “What’s the meaning of this?” I protested, trying to push them away. Ryan scoffed and said, “Seriously, Felicity? You just got out of the hospital, and you’re already rushing to get married? Are you that desperate to find a husband? You really are cheap.” Logan toyed with the hem of my gown, a mocking smile plastered on his face, similar to Ryan’s. “Or did Oliver give you something in return? “Money, a house, or… has he slept with you?”

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My name was Alice Langley. In front of the filming crew and me, my fiancé, Eric Roberts, was flirting with his deaf assistant, Edith Accola, surrounded by a group of hearing-impaired children. “Ms. Accola, is he your boyfriend?” one eager child asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Edith blushed, a shy smile spreading across her face as she gestured for Eric to respond. He hesitated, glancing at me before turning back to the kids, signing, “Yes.” “When are you two getting married? We want some wedding candy!” another child piped up, bouncing with excitement. Eric grinned, his hands moving with confidence as he signed back, “Absolutely! I’ll bring you all to the wedding next week, and there will be plenty of candy!” His signs were quick and precise, showing no sign of the three months learning. Meanwhile, I, the so-called proper fiancée, felt like a complete outsider, a clown in this heartwarming scene. Later, when the charity video was released, chaos erupted at the wedding venue. Eric was frantically searching for me, his expression a mix of panic and concern. ***** With Eric’s affirmative response, a group of children erupted into laughter and excitement, surrounding Edith and him. Edith shot me a triumphant glance over the crowd, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. As I watched the lively and heartwarming scene unfold, my throat tightened, and I felt a wave of emotion wash over me. I couldn’t even recall how many times Eric had flirted with Edith in front of me using sign language. Ever since Edith had saved Eric from his deafness and accidentally discovered that I was fluent in sign language—something Eric was unaware of—she had turned their flirtation into a weapon against me. What once might have been a subtle concern had now become a blatant display, even in front of the cameras. As I was lost in my thoughts, Eric took a step closer. “Alice, what are you thinking about?” he asked, concern etched on his face. “I was wondering what your sign language meant just now,” I replied, looking up into his eyes. He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. “Oh, it was nothing. “The kids were just asking when we’d come back to see them, and I told them we’d come after the wedding,” he said, his hands fidgeting with his watch—a telltale sign that he was lying. Before I could respond, he turned and hurried back to catch up with Edith. A little girl named Mia Queen, who had been snuggled up to me, tilted her head in confusion and signed. “Ms. Langley, didn’t you just say he is your fiancé? Aren’t you getting married soon?” I fought back tears and replied earnestly in sign language, “Not anymore, Mia. Promise me you won’t tell anyone about what happened today, okay?” After the event, Edith refused to leave with us, wanting to spend more time with the children. Eric glanced back multiple times, reluctant to get into the car. As soon as he opened the car door, I caught a whiff of the jasmine scent I despised. I couldn’t help but frown. “That’s a homemade air freshener from Edith and the kids. I thought it was nice, so I hung it up,” Eric said casually. But I remembered how I had wanted to use a calming scent for motion sickness, only to have Eric veto it because he didn’t like any smells in the car. The ride back felt tense and quiet. The mountain air was chilly, and just as I was about to grab Eric’s floral Winnie-the-Pooh blanket from the back seat to cover myself, he refused. “That blanket belongs to Edith. She doesn’t like anyone touching her things. If you’re cold, I can just turn up the heat,” he said, his expression calm as if this was completely normal. I turned to him, puzzled. “Why is her stuff in your car? We’re about to get married, Eric. “What’s going on? The air freshener, the lipstick, the blanket, the perfume—all of it belongs to Edith. “What kind of assistant uses her boss’ car like it’s her own?” I could see impatience creeping across Eric’s face at my questions. “Alice, why are you being so sensitive right now? Edith helped me with my hearing loss. Shouldn’t I take care of her a little? “This is my car, and you’re poking your nose into everything. It’s suffocating!” His words punched me hard in the gut.

When we were dating, Eric insisted that I keep a close eye on him, taking pride in the fact that it gave him a sense of security. But now, he said I was suffocating him? The mountain road was bumpy, and the temperature in the car was rising. Eric’s words made my stomach churn. “Where’s my peppermint spray?” I asked, rummaging through my bag, trying to recall where I had last seen it. “Edith used it last time. She thought it was too strong, so she threw it away. Why do you need it?” he replied nonchalantly. In the past, whenever I felt even a hint of motion sickness, Eric would spring into action—opening windows for fresh air and rubbing my back to help me relax. He had even scoured the market to find the perfect peppermint spray to ease my symptoms. But now, that special treatment had been handed over to Edith. I fought to suppress my rising anger. “That was mine! Why does she get to just toss it aside?” Suddenly, Eric slammed on the brakes, and I was thrust forward, my forehead crashing against the windshield. A painful bump immediately formed. “Enough, Alice! You were distracted at the event today, and now you’re nitpicking at Edith. What’s going on with you?” Eric snapped, his brows furrowing as he defended her. Clearly, my motion sickness and the bump on my head were nothing compared to my complaints about Edith. I shook my throbbing head, ready to respond, when Edith’s ringtone blared through the car. “Mr. Roberts, Ms. Accola just broke a toenail while playing games with the kids. We don’t have a first-aid kit here. You need to come quickly!” “Mr. Roberts, my foot hurts so much, and it’s bleeding! I’m so scared!” Edith wailed on the other end, her sobs echoing through the car. The moment Eric heard that she was bleeding, his face drained of color. “Okay, just keep her calm. She hates pain, and with her hearing gone, she’s really scared. I’ll turn around right now!” Here we go again. I knew Edith wouldn’t let me and Eric have our moment of peace. Rubbing my forehead, I said quietly, “Turn around.” To my shock, Eric told me to get out of the car. “Alice, be reasonable. Edith is hurt and needs someone with her. There’s no room in the car, and since you’re feeling sick, it’s better if you get out and walk for a bit. I promise I’ll be back to pick you up as soon as I get her to the hospital.” I stared at him in disbelief. “You want me to walk back down the mountain alone in the dark?” My voice trembled, but it didn’t seem to stir any sympathy in Eric. A minute later, I stood by the roadside in my thin workout clothes, watching as Eric sped off toward the welfare center, urgency written all over his face.

The next morning, I limped home, my clothes torn and dirty, and my feet blistered and bleeding. As soon as I opened the door, I was met with the sight of Eric giving Edith a massage. He was so focused on his task that he didn’t even notice me enter. Edith, draped in my own pajamas, had one of her legs casually resting on Eric’s shoulder. She looked at me with a smug smile, as if to challenge me. I slammed the door shut, startling Eric. “Alice, what are you doing back?” he asked, immediately pushing Edith’s leg off him, his face a mix of surprise and awkwardness as he started to come over to help me. But Edith cut in before he could reach me. “Alice, I know you’re upset that Mr. Roberts came back for me last night. But honestly, you don’t need to make yourself look so miserable. If you don’t like me, I can just leave.” With that, she feigned a pitiful struggle to get up. “Oh!” she exclaimed, and then she “accidentally” fell into Eric’s arms. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her, concern etched on his face. The two of them completely ignored me, engrossed in their own world, communicating in sign language as if I were invisible. I took a deep breath, turned on my heel, and headed to the guest room. I changed out of my filthy clothes and plugged my phone in to charge. As soon as it powered up, I saw a video from Edith waiting for me. “Mr. Roberts, are you really willing to have a wedding with me?” In the video, Edith’s face lit up with anticipation, her signs filled with joy. Kneeling in front of her, Eric looked at her with deep affection. “Edith, even though I can’t legally marry you, I promise I’ll make sure your wedding happens!” “Then I want my wedding to be on the same day as Alice’s! I want to go right after hers, and I want to bring all the kids from the welfare center. Everything about my wedding has to be just like Alice’s, but a little less fancy!” “Okay, okay, whatever you want, you silly girl,” Eric replied, smiling softly as he playfully pinched her nose. ***** I shut my eyes and pressed the power button, tears streaming down my face. Last night, I had walked alone along the mountain path, terrified and trying to avoid a reckless driver, only to tumble down and hurt myself. Meanwhile, Eric and Edith were at my house, exchanging sweet nothings. When I returned, Eric didn’t even bother to ask how I had managed to make it home alone with my phone dead. And now, he was planning two weddings. It was utterly ridiculous! The man Eric had become was a far cry from the one who once vowed he would marry no one but me. Ever since Edith joined the company, Eric had been vocal about her. At first, he complained about Edith, expressing his disdain and warning me to keep an eye on her, as if she were trying to steal him away. But that quickly shifted to praise and admiration. Eric would talk about how capable and resourceful Edith was. It all began three months ago when Edith and Eric took a client diving. During the excursion, Eric’s oxygen tank slipped from his grasp, and in a moment of heroism, Edith risked her life to save him, suffering permanent hearing loss in the process. Ever since that day, Eric hadn’t mentioned her name in my presence. I had been trying to convince myself it was all just gratitude. I ignored the constant stream of messages from Edith flaunting Eric’s affection for her and the way they flirted in sign language right in front of me. I had thought I could endure this. But everything that happened today shattered that illusion.   By the time I finished my call with Laird Borden, night had fallen. Laird lived right across from my house, and I had been raised by my grandmother. When we were kids, I taught myself sign language to help care for Laird’s deaf grandmother. But after moving away, we lost touch. Now, Laird was thriving abroad and had repeatedly invited me to join him as the chief designer. Initially, I considered it, wanting to be there for my grandmother in her final days. But then Eric proposed again, and I pushed those thoughts aside. I never imagined that after all this, I would still be leaving. As I stepped into my bedroom, I glanced around and noticed how much was missing. “Where are my paintings?” I asked, my heart sinking. “They were too abstract, and Edith was scared of them, so I got rid of them,” Eric replied, shrugging it off as if it were nothing. Once upon a time, Eric had treasured those paintings. The inspiration for his gaming company’s flagship mobile game had come from my artwork. It was my creativity that had helped him soar to success. Eric had promised that one day, those paintings would be framed and cherished, a testament to our love and shared journey. Now, just because Edith was afraid, he had tossed them aside like yesterday’s news. The memories of our struggles together felt like a cruel joke. Seeing my silence, Eric pressed on. “Alice, since Edith hurt her foot and has no one to look after her, I’ve let her stay in our master bedroom for a few days. You won’t mind, right?” He watched me carefully, as if afraid I might refuse. After all, just last night, I had argued with him over Edith. “Do as you please,” I replied, my tone flat. I decided not to escalate the argument. Eric’s relief was palpable. He wrapped his arms around me, leaning in for a kiss on my cheek, but I turned my head away. Unfazed, he suggested I get ready, promising to accompany me to try on wedding dresses later. Amidst all the turmoil, I had nearly forgotten about the wedding dress I had designed myself. Even though I had decided to leave, it felt right to destroy the gown I had poured my heart into. When we arrived at the bridal shop, Eric went off to park the car while I contacted a salesperson. Just as I finished giving them the name of my dress, I noticed a change in the clerk’s expression. “Ms. Langley, there was a woman who insisted on trying on this dress just a moment ago. I called the number you left, and the gentleman on the other end said it was okay for you to try it on. However, that lady is still in there. Let me take you inside.” As the fitting room door swung open, I was met with the sight of Edith in my meticulously designed wedding dress, posing in front of the mirror and snapping photos. I felt my hands tremble with rage. I was about to march over and demand she take it off when Eric, who had just arrived, caught my arm. The reflection in the mirror captured the moment as Edith, still clad in my gown, walked straight toward us. I couldn’t miss the flicker of admiration in Eric’s eyes as he took in the sight of her. All the pent-up frustration I had been holding onto suddenly dissipated.   “Take off that wedding dress in three minutes, or don’t blame me for losing my temper.” I delivered the ultimatum calmly before turning on my heel and sitting down at the reception desk. A few minutes later, Eric appeared, looking contrite, with a sulking Edith in tow. “Okay, Alice, I admit it’s partly my fault. Edith just loves your designs; she only wanted to try it on. Don’t be so petty about it. I’ve already agreed to marry you, so let’s not sweat the small stuff.” The subtext in his words suggested that this whole wedding was my one-sided push for a commitment. But it was he who had solemnly proposed to me three months ago by the sea in front of everyone. I knew Eric’s apology wasn’t genuine; it was merely a way to keep me from taking my frustration out on Edith. When I remained silent, Eric exchanged a glance with Edith, who stomped her foot in frustration before storming off. “Alice, the wedding is just around the corner. I’ve arranged everything at the hotel. You need to get back and get ready to look stunning as my bride tomorrow,” he said, his tone urgent. As soon as he finished, he made a hasty excuse about needing to handle something for work and rushed away. I understood—he was off to placate Edith. I grabbed my carefully packaged wedding dress and left the shop under the watchful eye of the staff. Arriving at the hotel Eric had booked for the wedding; I took a look around. Sure enough, the style and decor matched perfectly with the photos Edith had just posted on social media—only my venue was smaller, and the floral arrangements fewer. It was indeed a notch below hers. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, dropped the bag containing my wedding dress, and meticulously checked all the documents before heading to the airport. As soon as my plane landed, my phone rang. “Alice, where are you? You’re not in your room! Have you not changed into your wedding dress yet? Everyone’s waiting for you!” Eric’s voice was laced with urgency. He knew that if I took too long, he might miss the next event. I could hear him rummaging through things on the other end of the line. “Alice, why is your wedding dress torn and thrown in the trash? Where are you?” His voice suddenly shot up an octave. Before I could respond, a gasp came through the phone. I heard the sound of a video playing. “Renowned artist Alice Langley and Eric Roberts, CEO of the Roberts Group, are attending a charity event for hearing-impaired children. We see Ms. Langley engaging joyfully in sign language with the kids, creating a heartwarming scene…” It was the promotional video from the charity event I had arranged to be released today, perfectly timed to coincide with my departure. The line fell silent. A few seconds later, Eric’s trembling voice broke through the quiet. “Alice, you know sign language?”

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My name was Lillian Miller. The day I went into the operating room to deliver my twins, my husband, Vincent Moore, flat-out refused to sign the consent form for anesthesia. He insisted I was allergic to it and couldn’t have any. So, there I was, undergoing an emergency C-section without any pain relief. When the moment came and my babies were pulled from me, I took my last breath and died. But my soul didn’t move on; it lingered, and I overheard a conversation between Vincent and his mistress, Nancy Fox. He said, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “Now you can rightfully be my wife. You won’t have to suffer through childbirth, and you can step right into the role of mother.” Nancy gazed down at my two little ones nestled in Vincent’s arms, a wide smile spreading across her face. And just like that, I found myself back in the delivery room on that fateful day once more. I jolted awake from a haze of pain, only to find a pool of blood soaking the sheets. I had been reborn. Just then, my husband, Vincent, burst through the door and froze at the sight of me. Panic etched across his face, he rushed to my side. “Lillian, it looks like you’re going into labor! I’ll call an ambulance right away. Just stay put; I’ll take care of everything.” In my past life, he had said the same thing, and I had believed him, trusting that he would handle it all. But I hadn’t anticipated that he would turn around and tell the doctor not to give me anesthesia, leading me to endure a torturous C-section that ultimately cost me my life. This time around, I was determined to seize control of my fate. I gripped his shirt; my voice strained with urgency. “Please, call my parents and let them know what’s happening.” Vincent shot up, irritation flashing in his eyes. “What do you need to call them for? I don’t want to worry them. I’ll take you myself, and that’s enough.” After dialing for the ambulance, he settled down on the edge of the bed, lighting a cigarette as if waiting for a casual visit rather than the arrival of our children. I was in so much agony that I couldn’t even move. I desperately reached for my phone on the bedside table, but Vincent quickly snatched it away from me. His annoyance deepened. “What are you doing? I told you, no need to call anyone. You’ve got me here to support you through this.” With all the strength I could muster, I replied, “My parents raised me. Now that I’m about to have my babies, I want them by my side. It would make me feel so much better.” Vincent slowly placed my phone on the far side of the room, out of my reach. “You don’t need to call them. It’s just two babies, Lillian. You’re not a kid anymore; you don’t need your mom and dad holding your hand.” Frustrated and feeling trapped, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I slipped out of bed, but in my weakened state, I lost my balance and fell to the floor. Vincent rushed over to help me up, his face devoid of concern. “Just sit tight and wait for the ambulance. Why are you moving around so much?” I pushed his hand away, my voice icy. “Why don’t you check to see if the ambulance has arrived?” He shot me a glare. “It’ll come when it comes. I don’t need to check.” I retorted, “What if they’re at the door right now? Go see what’s taking so long. It won’t kill you to check!” With a huff of frustration, Vincent stormed out of the room. Seizing the opportunity, I crawled over to the table, grabbed my phone, and dialed my mom. I strained to speak, “Mom, I’m in labor. You and Dad need to get to the hospital ASAP. I’ll be there in a minute.” Before I could hear her response, my strength gave out, and the phone slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor as darkness enveloped me.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in the hospital, having been rushed there by the ambulance. In my previous life, my parents hadn’t been informed, leaving Vincent as the only one by my side during my delivery. Back then, the doctor had informed us that my twins were too large for a natural birth. Vincent had simply replied, “We never planned on a natural delivery anyway. Let’s go straight to a C-section.” The doctor nodded and prepared for the procedure, handing Vincent the consent form for anesthesia. Vincent glanced at the paper and asked, “This is voluntary, right? If I don’t pay for it, you won’t use it?” The doctor paused, taken aback. “What do you mean? There’s no way to skip the anesthesia. This is a C-section! If you don’t use it, she’ll be in excruciating pain. Sign it quickly; we can’t delay the operation.” Vincent, however, tossed the form back at the doctor. “No anesthesia. She’s allergic to it.” The doctor’s disbelief was palpable. “Just sign it. We’ll assess which anesthetic is suitable. It’s impossible for her to be allergic to every single one!” Vincent stood firm. “She’s been tested before; she’s allergic to all anesthetics. If you don’t follow my instructions and something goes wrong, who’s responsible? “If she dies from the pain, it’s a complication of childbirth, not your fault. It’s on her.” The doctor was visibly shocked, likely unable to fathom such a callous statement from a pregnant woman’s husband. As the standoff continued over the consent form, the lead surgeon impatiently took the paper away. “Let the family make the decisions. We can’t make choices for them.” With that, the doctor proceeded to cut open my abdomen, and my screams echoed through the entire floor. At that moment, as my children were pulled from me, I took my last breath. After my death, my children became mere pawns in Vincent’s game, destined to be raised by his mistress, Nancy. From the very start, Vincent had intended for me to die on that operating table to provide her with a family. My spirit floated back home, where I saw Nancy cradling my children in Vincent’s embrace. He held her close, a smile on his face as he said, “Now you can rightfully be my wife. You won’t have to suffer through childbirth, and you can step right into the role of mother.” Snapping back to reality, I vowed that this time would be different. I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. As I lay there in pain, my eyes closed, I could hear my parents’ worried voices approaching. My mother, Miranda Miller, was frantically calling for the doctor, “Hurry! My daughter is in labor! Get her into surgery right away! I want the best doctor available!”

Once the doctors prepared for my surgery, the same situation unfolded as in my previous life—the consent form for anesthesia was needed again. This time, my mother, Miranda, rushed to grab the form, but the doctor stopped her. “You’re the patient’s mother, right? This decision should be made by the husband; he’s the primary guardian.” It was disheartening to realize that my fate rested in the hands of a man who didn’t love me and to whom I had no blood ties. Vincent snatched the form and glanced at it dismissively. “We’re not signing anything. Just go straight to the C-section.” Miranda’s eyes widened in shock. “What did you just say? Not using anesthesia for a C-section will kill her!” Vincent shrugged, unfazed. “Anesthesia isn’t good for the baby. The twins could be exceptional, and I won’t let a little anesthesia ruin that. Lillian can tough it out; she can recover afterward.” Miranda grabbed Vincent’s arm, her voice trembling. “Vincent, how can you be so heartless? Is this how you treat my daughter?” Back then, Vincent had been so attentive. He stood outside in freezing temperatures all night to apologize, and when he caught a fever for three days, he grinned like a child, saying, “Thank you for forgiving me; it was worth it.” I had been so moved that I insisted on marrying him despite my parents’ protests. They didn’t approve of him, but I was blinded by love and ended up arguing with them. Yet after we married, everything changed. Vincent treated me like a housekeeper, neglecting me and often not even coming home to sleep. I never told my parents about the hardships I faced; they had no idea how miserable I was. Miranda wrestled the consent form back, determined to sign it herself. The doctor sighed, caught in the middle, “I understand your concern, but since her husband is here, he must sign.” He handed the form back to Vincent. “Please sign quickly; a C-section without anesthesia could endanger your wife’s life!” If anything, those words seemed to solidify Vincent’s resolve. “I said no signing! How can you not understand? “I know my wife better than anyone. She’s allergic to anesthesia. If anything goes wrong because of it, who’s responsible?” The doctor was taken aback, and Miranda frowned, clearly worried. My father, Ryan Miller, pushed Vincent aside, his voice cold. “How could I not know my daughter is allergic to anesthesia? Are you deliberately trying to make her suffer?” To everyone’s surprise, Vincent pulled out a document proving my allergies to various anesthetics.

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My son, Oliver Harrington, was taken into custody by the police on suspicion of murder. Meanwhile, my husband, Gavin Harrington, was still on the slopes, skiing with his first love, Celeste Reed. This time, I didn’t ask him to come back. In my past life, I had begged him to return. But I never expected that, after he left, Celeste—alone on the slopes—would crash into a rock, suffering multiple fractures and dying before help could arrive. After dealing with her funeral, Gavin came back home, his expression unchanged. He even took us on a ski trip abroad for our wedding anniversary. But in the end, both Oliver and I fell into a trap. I screamed, desperately begging him to save our son, who was barely clinging to life, but Gavin stood there, his teeth clenched, filled with bitter anger. “If it weren’t for you two, she wouldn’t have died. I want you both to burn in hell.” Then, I opened my eyes again and found myself back on the day Oliver was arrested. This time, I let them have their way. I didn’t call him. But somehow, everything seemed to veer off course. ***** “I want to see my dad. If he doesn’t come, I won’t say a word.” Oliver, his emotions boiling over, stepped back, eyes flashing with defiance. Behind him, a crowd had gathered—school officials, police, and a pack of reporters. Just half an hour earlier, a girl had fallen from the roof and died on impact. But what was even worse was the initial coroner’s report—multiple bruises on the victim’s body, evidence of assault. Oliver, who had been at the scene, was now the prime suspect. I pushed through the crowd, desperate to get to him. Even though I had lived through this before, seeing my son standing on the edge again made my legs go weak. “What are you doing standing here? Get Gavin back!” Gavin’s parents arrived, shoving me aside. I barely had time to explain before Gavin’s mom pulled out her phone and dialed. The moment the call connected, it was immediately cut off. Relentlessly, they kept dialing over and over. But all that came through was a cold, mechanical voice. “The number you dialed has been disconnected…” Gavin’s dad slammed his hand on her shoulder. “Quick, call Celeste. Gavin’s with her right now.” I froze, a chill spreading through me. They had known all along—Gavin and Celeste were together. Then Celeste’s soft, sultry voice came through the phone. “Stop it. It’s your mom’s call!” “My mom? What does she want? Probably just Eleanor being jealous again, complaining to my mom.” “Oh, don’t… ah…” The phone dropped, and the unmistakable sound of their passionate kiss filled the line. My stomach twisted in disgust. As Gavin’s mom caught the uncomfortable glances from those around us, she quickly ended their kiss. “Gavin, come to Oliver’s school quickly! He’s about to jump!” After a reluctant separation, Gavin’s voice came through, sharp with irritation. “Mom, are you done? Since when did you become as unreasonable as Eleanor? You’re making up lies just to get me back? Oliver’s jumping? Really?” Then Gavin’s father grabbed the phone, furious. “Gavin Harrington! I’m ordering you—come here now!” “Dad!” Gavin cut him off, his voice cold and final. “Celeste’s birthday is today. I’m not ruining her mood. Whoever jumps today won’t stop me from being with Celeste.” With that, he hung up. The coldness in Gavin’s voice hit me like a punch. I couldn’t stop my whole body from shaking.

In my past life, I had been completely helpless. When I got the call from the school, I nearly passed out. All I could do was hope and pray that Gavin, being a lawyer, would know what to do. Oliver had always idolized him, listening to no one but him since he was little. In the end, I had to threaten divorce and give up custody just to get him to come back. But I never imagined how things would turn out. After Gavin left, Celeste, furious and alone, stayed at the ski resort. She ignored the staff’s pleas and kept skiing, only to crash into a hidden rock. Her spine was dislocated, and she suffered multiple fractures. The resort was remote, and with the heavy snowstorm, help couldn’t get to her in time. Celeste died there. I thought Gavin would blame me and hate me for it. But after arranging her funeral, he came home, his face unreadable, and knelt before me, begging for my forgiveness. He promised he would never leave the family again. I was overjoyed, believing every word. I thought that maybe, just maybe, things were finally turning around. When Gavin suggested a rare wedding anniversary trip, I thought it was a sign of things to come. But I had no idea… He had carefully planned a remote ski trip. He encouraged Oliver, who wasn’t good at skiing, to try the more dangerous areas, and I, in my desperation to save him, fell into the trap with him. Meanwhile, Gavin stood off to the side, indifferent, pouring bucket after bucket of ice water on us as we were trapped with nowhere to escape. In the end, he even released a snake, watching with cold detachment as Oliver and I were consumed by fear and despair. “You killed Celeste. If you hadn’t forced me to come home, she’d still be alive!” I didn’t understand. I pulled Oliver close, shielding him. And I looked at my husband, who looked like a completely different person. “But Oliver is your son too! He needs you! Shouldn’t you be there for him, especially when he needs you most? Doesn’t his life matter more than Celeste’s?” Oliver, trembling with fear, cried out, “Dad…” Gavin kicked an empty bucket down. “I want you both to feel the despair Celeste felt in her final moments. You’ll experience it, just like she did!” Oliver’s body was already turning blue from the cold. Until the end, he couldn’t believe his own father would be the one to kill him. That pain, that raw agony, still gnaws at my soul. On the roof, Oliver’s face was pale as he looked at me. “Doesn’t Dad believe in me anymore?” My heart was in my throat. I quickly tried to reassure him. “Oliver, don’t be afraid. Trust me. As long as we cooperate with the police and tell the truth, you won’t go to jail.” Not only would he not go to jail, but in my past life, Gavin had found a key witness. If we could find that person, Oliver’s innocence would be proven. “Really? You believe I didn’t kill her?” “Of course, Oliver. You’re my son. I know you better than anyone! Even if you had a knife, you wouldn’t use it to hurt anyone.” I saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. I signaled to Officer Lucas Sterling, who nodded in agreement. “Exactly, the police work based on evidence. No one will be wrongly accused. As long as you tell the truth, the law will be fair to everyone.” After a few more words, Oliver finally calmed down and stepped away from the edge. Just as the tension started to ease, a woman, wild-eyed and disheveled, stormed toward us. “Oliver! Why did you kill my daughter?! I’m going to make you pay for this!”

I froze, a jolt of panic hitting me. Without thinking, I stepped in front of Oliver, shielding him. “Why? My daughter never did anything to you! Why did you kill her?” The woman in front of me was covered in blood—her appearance was utterly shocking. But what struck me the most was the look on her face. I knew that face. She was Charlotte Vaughn, the mother of the deceased Serena Vaughn. A sense of dread started gnawing at me. This wasn’t how things went down in my last life. Charlotte gripped my shoulder with bone-crushing force, her eyes filled with rage as they locked on Oliver, who stood by the rooftop edge. “An eye for an eye! Oliver Harrington, I swear I’ll make sure my daughter gets revenge!” Gavin’s mom, unable to watch this, quickly intervened, “Do you even know slander is a crime? The investigation’s not even done, and you’re accusing my grandson of murder? I’ll sue you for this!” She turned to Oliver, a smug look on her face. “Oliver, don’t worry. Your father’s a lawyer—he handles criminal cases all the time. This is nothing for him!” Charlotte, her anger boiling over, snapped back, “You think you’re the only ones who can afford a lawyer?!” Alexander Vaughn stepped in front of his wife, calming her with a reassuring hand. “I’ve already contacted my lawyer. The firm’s taking on the case. They’ve got the best criminal lawyer—never lost a case in this area.” I grabbed Gavin’s mom’s arm, stopping her from continuing. If this kept going, things would spiral completely out of control. I turned to Oliver, who looked terrified, his eyes wide and uncertain. “Oliver, I know you didn’t kill her. You were trying to help her, weren’t you?” He blinked, taken aback. “How do you know that?” “I know she was hurt. You called her up here to the rooftop to protect her, to stop her from being hurt again, right?” I continued, “You thought only your dad could handle this, so you kept pushing him to get involved. But, Oliver, I can help too. Don’t you remember what I used to do for a living?” For the first time, he seemed to wake up, his face softening as he realized. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Alexander’s phone rang. Oliver flinched, recoiling like a trapped animal.   “Hello, is this Mr. Alexander Vaughn?” The voice on the other end of the line made my heart drop. It was Gavin. A cold wave of shock washed over me. Everything felt like it was spinning in a direction I didn’t expect. I looked at Alexander and Charlotte. In my last life, I had only met them in the police station, never like this. It felt like something—or someone—was steering everything toward disaster. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. “Sir, I’ve fully taken over your case. I’ve already reviewed the details. I’m so sorry for your daughter’s death, but don’t worry—I’ll make sure the culprit pays for this. I’ll make sure they get the maximum sentence.” Charlotte yanked the phone from Alexander’s hand, her voice filled with anguish. “I want that killer to die! The person who took my daughter from me—I won’t rest until they’re gone!” On the other end of the line, Gavin’s voice oozed with scorn, completely unabashed. “These kinds of people—society’s filth—I’ll make sure they’re put behind bars for good, even if I don’t take a penny for it!” “Dad!” Oliver spoke up, his voice trembling in disbelief. “What if…” He hesitated, his throat tight. “What if the person is innocent?” Gavin didn’t miss a beat, his voice dripping with superiority. I doubted he ever stopped to think about why his son was the one on the other end of the line. “I’ve already looked into it. The person who pushed Serena has a history of violence—multiple school fights and disciplinary actions. People like that shouldn’t be allowed to walk free. This tragedy is the result of the school turning a blind eye to his behavior!” Fighting? A history of trouble? I could hardly breathe as Gavin’s words sunk in. Ever since Celeste returned, Gavin had brought her on as his secretary, and he’d spent countless hours with her, all while secretly taking her to school meetings. Their behavior had become even more brazen, and it wasn’t long before they were caught in a compromising situation in the school bathroom by another parent. Oliver’s reputation was destroyed, and he was mocked by his classmates. If it weren’t for Gavin’s actions, none of this would’ve happened! How could he sit there and accuse our son of having such a history? Oliver took a step back, his voice barely audible, as if unsure if he even belonged in this conversation. “So, you think this person should die?” Gavin answered almost without thinking. “People like him—sociopaths—they’re a plague on society. The world would be better off without them.” I saw Oliver’s face turn ashen, and I reached out to hang up the phone. But before I could, Alexander intercepted my move, his hand stopping mine. I froze, my heart racing, as I turned to face Oliver. “Oliver, don’t listen to him…” “Mom!” Oliver forced a bitter, pained smile. “I’m sorry.” Before I could react, he jumped. “No!” I ran, my heart pounding in my chest as I sprinted toward the edge of the rooftop.

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My adopted son, Justin Hackett, wanted his biological mother, Sofia Quinn, to drink the wine that his bride offered at the wedding. He persuaded my husband, Zach Hackett, to give me sleeping pills the day before the wedding. The next day, Zach brought Sofia to Justin’s wedding. The three of them hugged each other tightly and shed happy tears. But I could never wake up again because of the overdose of sleeping pills. When I opened my eyes again, Zach brought me another glass of milk. ***** Zach reminded me when he saw that I was reluctant to take the milk. “Baby, drink the milk. Otherwise, you will have insomnia again tonight.” Justin also echoed beside me. “Mom, you have to sleep well tonight so that you can have enough energy to attend my wedding tomorrow.” I took the milk and took a sip with a smile, looking at him. “Okay, I will drink it. Tomorrow is your wedding. I have to be well rested.” An imperceptible smile of success flashed across the corners of Zach and Justin’s lips. I used the excuse that the milk wasn’t sweet enough and went to the kitchen to add sugar. As soon as the door was closed, I poured the milk into the sink with a cold face and turned on the tap to destroy the evidence. In my previous life, it was this glass of milk that made me fall asleep and never wake up again. After death, I regretted not being able to attend Justin’s wedding. My soul floated to the wedding scene. I watched Zach holding Sofia. The three of them were so happy that they burst into tears. After the wedding, Sofia said to Zach, “Being in love with you is the luckiest thing in my life. The only regret is that we can’t be a real family. I’m really jealous of Yvette. She is your legal wife and Justin’s adoptive mother. If you didn’t think of me, I wouldn’t be able to attend Justin’s wedding as his mother.” She became more and more aggrieved and even cried. Zach hurried to coax her. “Yvette is not worthy of being compared with you. She is just my wife in name only. I only have you in my heart. For you and Justin, I secretly had a vasectomy before marrying Yvette. She is not worthy of having my child. I deceived Yvette. She really thought she could not have children. So she transferred all her guilt towards me to Justin. She used the connections of the Stewart family to help us raise an excellent son. I have been acting with her for more than 20 years, and I am tired of her. Now, I am just waiting for her father to die, and then I can completely control the Stewart Group. Then I will divorce Yvette and marry you.” Sofia burst into laughter. Obscene sounds soon rang out in the room. My husband, who treated me with respect, had another woman in his heart. He was just acting with me. My adopted son, I raised with all my heart, was their biological son. They loved each other, and I was the only outsider. More importantly… I touched my lower abdomen with trembling hands. So, the diagnosis was also fake. It wasn’t my fallopian tube that was deformed, but Zach had a vasectomy. At that time, Zach and I had been married for four years, but I hadn’t gotten pregnant yet. I was so anxious that I dragged Zach to the hospital for a checkup. The results showed that my fallopian tubes were deformed on both sides, while Zach was qualified in all aspects. It was my fault that I couldn’t conceive. I was devastated and desperate. I didn’t want to delay Zach, so I proposed a divorce. But he kept saying that he loved me. He said he couldn’t live without me. To keep me, he suggested adopting his distant nephew Justin, whose parents had both passed away. After adopting Justin, I took care of his food, clothing, housing, and transportation and slowly walked out of the shadow of infertility. At that time, I thought that sincerity would be exchanged for sincerity. I was good to Justin, and he would be good to me in the future. But I didn’t expect that he would enjoy my kindness to him while loving his biological parents. How ruthless and vicious Zach was! He pushed me into the abyss of pain and then pretended to be a hero, saving me. He lied to me and made me feel guilty and grateful to him, and then I served and paved the way for his family of three! I sacrificed everything I had while they took advantage of me! Why? Why! The anger and indignation swept over me. My vision went dark, and I was reborn back to today.

I came back to my senses, put the glass away, and walked out of the kitchen. I yawned after watching TV for a few minutes on the sofa. Seeing this, Zach and Justin looked at each other implicitly, with a smile of success. Zach put down the newspaper and said, “It’s getting late. Go to bed now so that you can get up early tomorrow.” I nodded and went back to my room. Yes, my room. Not the room Zach and I shared. After adopting Justin, Zach proposed to sleep in separate rooms with me. He said he was busy with work and would wake me up when he came into the room in the middle of the night. So it was better to sleep in separate rooms to give each other some personal space. At first, I thought Zach wanted to sleep in separate rooms with me because he had another woman outside. Later, I observed him for some time and found that he went between home and work every day. His life was very regular. I knew his colleagues very well, and they would not do anything to destroy other people’s families. So I was relieved. Sleeping in separate rooms was not a big deal as long as it didn’t interfere with our sex life. Now that I thought about it, how could Zach be worried about disturbing my sleep? He clearly wanted to stay away from me and keep his body for the woman he loved! It was ridiculous. We had done everything, but he suddenly remembered to keep his distance from me. What? A man’s chastity was never under his suit pants? I sneered and went to bed early. There was still a “tough battle” to fight the next day. On the next morning, after the door closed, I opened my eyes and got up to wash. To verify the efficacy of sleeping pills, Zach even came to wake me up. He left only after seeing that I was sleeping soundly. I thought, “Humph, you three don’t even think about having a good time today!” Time gradually approached noon. I had a full meal and rushed to the hotel on time. It was very lively along the way. A man watching the show asked me what I was doing. I just smiled and didn’t say anything, which aroused his curiosity. The line was getting longer and longer. When I walked to the door of the hotel, there were already more than a hundred people. The hotel lobby was bustling. The red carpet was laid, the ribbons were flying, and the place was full of guests. The emcee was livening up the atmosphere. He was asking the bride to toast Sofia. I walked onto the stage quickly, took the wine from the bride, and put it aside. “Hey, I haven’t even arrived yet. Who is this wine for?” Sofia’s raised hand froze in the air. She was stunned for a few seconds, then smoothed the hair by her ears and said with relief, “The emcee urged both parents to go on stage to go through the process. Zach said I was Justin’s aunt, so he asked me to take your place temporarily. It’s great that you’re here now, just in time to drink the wine toasted by the bride.” As she said that, she stood up to make room for me. Justin wanted to stop her, but Sofia shook her head gently to signal him not to speak. I ignored Sofia’s careful action, snatched the microphone from the emcee, and signaled him to go down. “Welcome all relatives and friends to attend the wedding of my adopted son Justin. But today is not only his wedding but also a good day for his biological parents to rebound. Please raise your hands to applaud this couple and send the most sincere blessings!” As soon as I finished speaking, two young men who had been waiting for a long time opened the banner, one on the left and one on the right, and presented it to everyone. Everyone’s eyesight was very good, and the hotel was well-lit. The banner was red with large black characters, which was very eye-catching. After seeing the content of the banner clearly, everyone present was shocked. In silence, a little girl of eight or nine years old slowly read it out. “Taking a concubine on behalf of my husband, I sincerely invite Ms. Sofia Quinn to be the first concubine of my husband Zach. Mom, what is a concubine?” The little girl asked innocently with her big eyes. Her mother smiled awkwardly and quickly covered her mouth to prevent her from saying anything shocking again. It was indeed a bit embarrassing, but the mother was curious and obviously didn’t want to miss such a dramatic show. Justin was furious, and his face turned red. He wanted to snatch the banner from the two young men and end this embarrassing farce. It was a pity that I spent two hundred dollars to hire these two young men from the martial arts gym. They were tall, strong, and powerful. A weak guy like Justin couldn’t do anything to them. He could only yell at me, “Mom, what are you fussing about? I just asked Aunt Sofia to take a glass of wine for you. Do you have to make such a fuss? Do you have to ruin my wedding?”

Justin asked me in a low voice with red eyes as if he had been greatly wronged. I sneered secretly. Who could be more wronged than me? I worked so hard to take care of their son for Sofia for twenty years, but in the end, Zach gave me sleeping pills and killed me. They plotted against me. Shouldn’t I be allowed to take revenge? I raised my hand and slapped Justin twice, making him stunned. “Who is your mom? You know who your mom is. I’m not your mom. This person, whom you keep calling Aunt Sofia, is your real mother. And your adoptive father Zach is your real father. You know their relationship very well. Otherwise, you would not have instigated your father to give me sleeping pills and then brought your mother to the wedding. Zach, Sofia, you two are shameless! All these years, you played cousins in front of me and were lovers behind my back. Isn’t that exciting?” My every word was transmitted to every corner of the hotel lobby through the microphone, like a drop of water falling into a hot oil pan, stirring up a heated discussion. “What a complicated relationship. His aunt is his real mother, and his adoptive father is his real father. Only his adoptive mother has been an outsider from the beginning.” “A husband who has cheated for many years. A scheming adopted son. A shameless mistress. A wife who has been deceived for many years. Such a miserable legal wife.” “Oh my God. I didn’t come to this wedding for nothing. When I go home, I will be the focus of the intelligence center!” ***** The guests in the audience whispered to each other. They stole a glance at the situation on the stage, and knowing smiles rose on their faces. Sofia was extremely panicked. She relied on Zach’s true love and never took me, his legal wife, seriously. No one knew that she had an affair with Zach in private. Now that she was exposed as a mistress, and so many people knew about it. Those eyes fell on her like needles, piercing her so much that she wanted to die. She finally learned what “people’s words are scary” meant. Sofia was extremely ashamed and angry. She hurriedly hid behind Zach to avoid those stares. The upper half of her face appeared behind Zach’s shoulder, with tears in her eyes, making people feel sorry for her. “Yvette, I didn’t mean to destroy your marriage with Zach. Back then, I wanted to break up with Zach and leave, but Zach brought Justin to the train station to keep me. Justin hugged my legs and called me Mom, begging me not to leave. He cried so hard. He is my son. How could I not feel sorry for him? “So I agreed to stay and pretend that Zach was my cousin. I just wanted to watch Justin grow up. I told Zach that you were his lifelong wife and asked him to forget me. But love made us unable to help ourselves. When we were deeply in love, I could not care about anything else. Just like that, we loved each other and stayed together for many years. “I thought I was hiding it from you for your own good, but I didn’t expect that I still hurt you. Everything is my fault. I was shameless and destroyed your family. If you want to blame someone, blame me, not Justin. You have raised him for twenty years. Can you bear to ruin his wedding?” As Sofia narrated, sweetness, pain, entanglement, relief, and other emotions alternated on her face. Finally, regret and begging. Seeing that I was unmoved, her eyes darkened. She rushed out and knelt at my feet, slapping herself in the face. “It’s all my fault. I am shameless. It’s all my fault…” Her well-maintained cheeks were soon covered with bright red slap marks. Zach held Sofia’s hand and looked at me hatefully. “Sofia, don’t hurt yourself. Yvette is very cruel. Even if you smash your face, she won’t let it go.” Justin left the helpless bride, with only his real mother in his eyes and heart. “Mom, my dad is right. Don’t hurt yourself anymore. You just love my dad. You were even willing to give up so much for me and my dad. Those people only sympathize with Yvette. Who can you complain to for your grievances?” Sofia was very moved. The man she loved and her son were on her side. But the bride didn’t think so. She was shocked and stunned. She took a few steps back. Obviously, she couldn’t accept such a worldview. I walked over to comfort her and said, “Miss, a blessed person does not deserve an unblessed family. How about you not get married?”

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At three months pregnant, I was left behind on a sinking cruise ship by my husband, Damon Hunt. The reason? Elena Hart screamed that she was afraid of water. I begged him to save me and the baby, but he shoved me off the lifeboat, coldly saying, “You can swim, right? You’ll be fine!” After being rescued from the ocean, I lost the baby and had to undergo surgery, but I couldn’t get Damon to sign the consent forms. As I scrolled through social media, I saw Elena’s post on Instagram. Elena: [True love shows in times of crisis, Damon.] The photo showed them wrapped in the same blanket, drenched and barely clothed. Once I recovered and was discharged from the hospital, I drove straight to the plain. Damon, who hadn’t contacted me in over a month, suddenly bombarded me with calls. “Lillian, the wedding dress is ready. Are we still getting married?” After leaving the car convoy, I turned on my spare phone and saw over a hundred missed calls from Damon. I picked up the phone, and Damon, barely holding back his frustration, demanded, “Lillian, where have you been? I couldn’t reach you by phone, and you didn’t reply to any of my messages. My parents have been reminding you to try on the wedding dress, but you’ve gone completely off the radar. Are you still planning on getting married or not?” I glanced at the divorce papers I had already signed. “I guess we’re not getting married.” “What’s wrong with you? You were the one who said we should just register and not have a ceremony. The invitations have already been sent. Now you’re backing out?” There was noise in the background. A sweet female voice was soothing him. His tone softened. “Wait for me. I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go try on the wedding dress.” The wedding dress was custom-made, and it was the most expensive element of our minimalist wedding. I had imagined countless times walking down the aisle, wearing the most beautiful dress, with all of our friends and family watching, marrying him. But now, I didn’t care anymore. Damon had upgraded his car—a bold royal blue that screamed attention. Sitting in the passenger seat, the sun was blinding. I pulled down the visor, only to see lipstick marks on the mirror—Damon loves Elena. Damon suddenly explained, “I swapped out the car. The old one was too cheap. It didn’t match my status.” That was the birthday gift I had scrimped and saved for. From the car’s color to the interior, everything had been carefully chosen by me. Just like me, the car was discarded. We stopped outside the bridal shop, but I didn’t get out. “Why here? I thought I booked at another one.” Damon dragged me out of the car. “A friend recommended this one. She said it’s better.” I always loved silk wedding dresses, but this store was filled with dramatic, puffy gowns. Despite already choosing my wedding dress, I was being forced to change my plans because of Elena’s preferences. A shop assistant guided me toward the fitting room. The dress fit, but it didn’t suit me at all. It felt as mismatched as Damon and I had become. Damon looked at me, but the only time I saw real admiration in his eyes was for the dress. I knew he wasn’t thinking of me. He was imagining Elena wearing it. “This one,” he declared without hesitation. I silently allowed him to lead me out of the store. Once in the car, he asked, “Why the long face? You’ve been to the plain, had some fun, and you’re still upset? Just because of a small thing, are you going to hold a grudge?” During last month’s cruise, when the ship was sinking after hitting a reef, Damon had pushed me off the lifeboat. It was all because Elena was afraid of water, and I had learned to swim years ago. I lost the baby, and he found his true love. He had almost completely forgotten about that day. When I stayed silent, he began lecturing me. “Why did you have to go to the plain? You’re pregnant, and you’re not in your twenties anymore. Shouldn’t you be more responsible? Now that you’re a mom, you need to be more stable. The baby is your responsibility now.” I shot back. “And this baby isn’t yours? Did you think about that responsibility when you shoved me off the lifeboat?” Damon turned his face away. “Stop trying to turn this into something it’s not. Go get checked out. Make sure everything’s alright with the baby.” Looking up, I saw that we had arrived at the OB/GYN. The doctor who performed the procedure looked worried. “Didn’t you just have an abortion last month? Is something wrong?”

Damon, who had been lazily scrolling through his phone, froze. “An abortion? Lillian, you had an abortion without telling me? When did this happen?” The waiting room was crowded, and all eyes were on us. I remembered two months ago, when we first found out I was pregnant. Damon had spun me around in joy, right there in the same hospital. We hadn’t been financially well-off when we first got married. We’d registered but hadn’t had a wedding ceremony. It wasn’t until I got pregnant and our financial situation improved that I suggested having a wedding. Damon couldn’t wait to make it happen. But now, his indifference tore at me. In those two months, he’d found true love, while I was drowning in heartbreak. Someone came over to mediate, and Damon frowned, pulling me into a stairwell. “June 3rd.” I looked up, noticing the anger on his face had frozen. That was the day the cruise ship had sunk, and I had been left stranded in the freezing ocean for five hours before being rescued. Meanwhile, Damon was already in Elena’s arms, confessing his love. Damon’s voice softened. “Have you had your check-up after the surgery? You went through a lot, and you didn’t even tell me. Running off to the plain without resting properly.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go get you checked out. We need to make sure there are no aftereffects. And don’t worry. We’ll have more babies in the future.” His phone rang, and a love song played from the speakers. Damon had always used basic ringtones—except when it came to Elena. For her, he’d make everything feel special. On the other end of the line, Elena was playfully whining. “Are you free today? I’ve been thinking about it. That cruise accident was so scary. I need to learn to swim for my own safety. Will you be my personal instructor? I’ve always been afraid of water, but I trust you.” Damon smiled, oblivious to my presence, clearly enjoying the attention. He hung up, glanced at me, and his expression hardened. “If it weren’t for your miscarriage, we wouldn’t have all this trouble. Let’s skip the check-up today. I’ve got something urgent. You can come again with my mom instead.” He rushed off without another word. I walked out, facing the pitying stares of everyone in the lobby. I hailed a cab. It was July, and the heat felt suffocating, thick and oppressive. It was like drowning in the sea—my heart was heavy with pain, but I couldn’t bring myself to cry. Back home, Damon’s mother called, her voice stern. “Lillian, I heard about the miscarriage. It’s your fault. I’ll take you for a check-up in a couple of days. Hope it won’t affect your future fertility.” I didn’t respond. Her voice softened slightly. “Lillian, you’ve been without parents your whole life. My husband and I have treated you like our own daughter. Don’t take this the wrong way, but losing one child isn’t the end of the world. Life goes on. I’m just worried about your health. If you can have kids, the family will have a future.” I had once believed her when she acted like a mother to me, thinking that marrying Damon would give me the family I’d always wanted. Now, I saw through her—it was all about controlling my womb. “Tomorrow, I’ve invited someone to come over and hold a memorial for the child. Damon should come too. A lost child is gone, but your relationship with Damon must continue.” I turned off the backup phone, not bothering to listen anymore. I stopped feeling the pain.

It had been a whole day without food, and as I lay in bed, my stomach twisted with sharp, cramping pain. I thought about getting up to grab something to eat, but the thought of food only made me feel nauseous. This house, with every corner filled with his presence, made me sick to my stomach. I could almost feel him there in the silence, his shadow looming everywhere. As a wave of dizziness and cold sweat washed over me, I opened my phone, hoping to order some medicine. Instead, I saw that Elena had posted on Instagram again, even going so far as to send me a screenshot. She made sure I saw it before quickly deleting the message. She made sure I saw it before quickly deleting the message. Elena: [Damon is my swimming instructor today!] The picture showed a crystal-clear pool, with Elena in a bikini, her selfie framed perfectly—except for one detail. She was sitting on Damon’s lap. Damon didn’t show his face, but the tattoo on his abs was unmistakable. It was my initials—once a symbol of our love. A sudden wave of nausea hit me as the pain in my stomach intensified, and I threw my phone onto the bed. I didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually, I managed to calm down enough to get up. As I walked toward the door, I heard Damon returning home. He was upstairs, chatting with Elena on a video call. His voice was soft and tender, full of affection. “Next month, I’m going to Brighton for work. Will you come with me?” Elena laughed, “Of course, I’ll come. We need to leave a trace of our love everywhere.” I leaned back against the door, curling up into myself. No one wanted to give up on someone they truly loved. But when silence and heartache piled up, sometimes it was time to let go, no matter how painful it was. Once upon a time, Damon and I had supported each other through thick and thin—two interns just starting at the company, and now, department directors. We’d seen the harbor view at 4 AM, worked overtime for half a year, delayed, and finally canceled our wedding—all for the sake of a big project. During the toughest, most exhausting days, we would prepare lunch for each other, and when we finally found the time to eat, the food would already be spoiled. We comforted each other, promising that once we succeeded, we’d go on that trip to the plain. But in the end, I was the only one who went. I searched through the ashes of love, but there was no spark left. That night, I was woken up by a strange sound. Damon’s mother had really gone through with the ritual. She had even set up a small altar for the unborn child. Damon had been ordered to keep watch, his head lowered as he tapped away at his phone. When I walked closer, I saw he was chatting with Elena. Damon: [My mom is overreacting!] Damon: [It’s just a dead baby—didn’t even have a name, just a tiny embryo. Why should I keep watch for something like that?] Damon: [It’s not like Lillian died.] Damon: [Remember that hot spring I promised you yesterday? We’ll have to go next time.] I turned and went back to my room, opening the company’s system to submit my resignation. I had never liked Harborview, but it had been Damon’s home, and I had stayed here for many years. But no matter how long I’d been here, I always felt like an outsider. Now, I was determined to start fresh. It was time to leave.   The next day, I went to the office to officially resign. As luck would have it, I ran into Elena delivering lunch to Damon. “Fired?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with challenge. “Serves you right! I told Damon ages ago that IT isn’t a field for women. You have been in the company for so many years, now you’re leaving!” She patted me on the shoulder. “Lillian, love is the same way. If it’s not right, no matter how many years you’re married, it’ll eventually end. Besides, who really knows you were even married?” I pushed her hand away and walked straight for the door. She thought I didn’t know about her and Damon sneaking around on the company rooftop over the past couple of months. After a 2 PM lunch break, whenever she brought Damon lunch, they’d stay up there together until almost 4 PM before returning to work. Damon was the vice director of the marketing department, often traveling for business, which meant he wasn’t in the office much. He was also rarely at home, most likely spending his time with Elena. But from now on, he wouldn’t be that leisurely. When I handed in my resignation, Margaret Whitmore, my boss, shared her thoughts in a heartfelt conversation. The message was clear. She was getting Damon out of the company. I had been a key player in the R&D department. Our relationship had made it difficult to put Damon in a tight spot, but now that I was leaving, his position could be filled by someone else. Margaret said, “Ms. Westwood’s son just graduated and returned from abroad. She’s considering letting him take over as director.” I nodded. “Sounds good to me.” As I walked out the door, it was nearly noon when Damon finally rushed into clock in. When he saw me holding a box, his confusion turned to realization. “Well, that’s good. We’ll have the wedding this Sunday. There’s no need for you to work anymore. It’ll be easier on you,” he said. Elena, standing behind him, spoke with a familiar tone. “What, do you look down on career women?” She was a makeup artist, always traveling, always on the go. I knew, for a fact, that on at least four separate occasions, Damon had claimed to be on a business trip when in reality, he was traveling with her. Throughout our entire marriage, the only trip we ever took together was the cruise. We had always talked about going to the grasslands, but it kept getting pushed back. But that time, when I suggested the cruise, Damon didn’t refuse. It was only because Elena was with us. I glanced up, and Damon’s smile was as bright as it had been during the early days of our love. “Elena, you know it’s not the same between you two.” His tenderness had long since belonged to someone else. When my colleagues threw me a farewell party, I declined. I quietly slipped away, and it only confirmed Damon’s belief. He thought I couldn’t hack it in the industry anymore. After losing the baby, I was disheartened and ready to give up my career to become a housewife. He brushed past me without a second glance and said, “After the wedding, I’ll give you everything you want. Enough with the tantrums.” I smiled, “Fine, no more tantrums from me.” And I meant it. I didn’t need him anymore. “Damon, let’s get a divorce.”

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