My name was Emma Cruise. Ever since Hannah Gellar passed away, my husband, Barry Gellar, had been a shadow of his former self. Day and night, he wore headphones, drowning himself in the seven recordings Hannah left behind. He even needed those recordings to fall asleep. Worried about how this obsession might consume him, I decided to hide the recordings. But that only escalated the situation. In his desperation, my husband resorted to extreme measures, coercing me with every mean and ugly thing he could think of. “Those recordings are the only thing Hannah left me! Who do you think you are, taking them away, you worthless bitch?” It hurt, but the pain didn’t end there. Our son Felix Gellar, who I raised with such care, looked at me with icy disdain. “It’s clear you’re twisted in your ways. You don’t deserve to be my mother!” They were both mistaken, clueless about the truth. The woman they believed was dead was actually living abroad, creating a new life and a new family. In this new life, I vowed to deliver the recording to them myself—straight into the ears of both father and son. ***** The gaunt figure before me gripped my throat tightly, his bloodshot eyes boring into mine with a ferocity that sent chills down my spine. “Emma! Give me back my Hannah! “Who do you think you are? What makes you think you have any right to touch the things Hannah left for me? Have I been too good to you all these years, letting it go to your head?” The pressure around my neck made it hard to breathe, and I struggled helplessly as he let out a cruel laugh before throwing me to the ground. “I’m warning you for the last time—hand over those recordings!” Coughing violently, I clutched my throat, gasping for air until the cool rush filled my lungs and brought me back to life. The servants stood around us, their expressions blank, heads bowed, and mouths shut tight. Not one of them dared to step forward to help me. I forced myself to look up, and for a moment, I was taken aback by the familiar face of the man I once loved. I couldn’t believe it—I had been reborn. In the world of the elite, everyone knew the Gellar family patriarch, Barry, had a stepsister. They grew up together, inseparable, their bond unbreakable. But the weight of family expectations crushed Barry when he couldn’t reciprocate her feelings, blaming it on me for preventing their love from being acknowledged. The proud princess of the Gellar family couldn’t handle the rejection and soon fell ill, passing away too soon. All that remained were those seven recordings, supposedly meant to help Barry navigate his grief and find hope again. Each year, like clockwork, someone would play them for him, never missing a beat. Even after I married Barry, I could sense his lingering attachment to that “deceased” sister. He would listen to her voice, trapped in the past, unable to let go. I knew I could never compete with a ghost, and guilt over Hannah’s death weighed heavily on me. So, for years, I kept my head down, carefully tending to both father and son, even as they hurled insults and abuse my way. I never once considered leaving. But those recordings, delivered year after year, dragged Barry deeper into despair, tormenting him until he was a shell of his former self, sleepless and desperate for relief. In my past life, I couldn’t bear to watch him suffer anymore. I bought the remaining recordings, cutting off the source of his pain. What I didn’t expect was for Barry to go to such lengths to find me, resorting to all kinds of torture to force me to hand over the last of the tapes. I was on the brink of collapse, begging for mercy, but he turned a deaf ear and only intensified his cruelty. When I finally relented and handed over the recordings, he tossed me into the slums, watching coldly as a horde of homeless people tormented me to death. “This is what we owe to Hannah. We all deserve this, don’t we?” His icy gaze sent a shiver down my spine, but I reminded myself—I was back, and this time, things would be different. In my previous life, I only discovered after my death that Hannah was never truly gone. She had faked her death and moved abroad, starting a new life, getting married, and having children. It was only after my demise that she returned, pretending to have amnesia, ready to reclaim my child and rekindle her romance with Barry, all while inheriting a fortune. Now that I had a second chance, I was determined to deliver those recordings personally to their ears. Just thinking about that seventh recording made me smile, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of anticipation.

Seeing me crumpled on the floor, Felix approached with a frown, his gaze dripping with scorn. “Mom, if I hadn’t followed you these past few days, I wouldn’t have discovered just how malicious you really are! “Ms. Hannah Gellar is dead. Why can’t you just let her last recording rest? Do you have to be so petty, letting me down like this?” His words hit me squarely. In the past, I might have argued back, but this time around, I had learned to let go. They were just two ungrateful wretches; no matter how well I treated them, they would always fawn over Hannah. With red-rimmed eyes, Felix went to his father, tugging at Barry’s sleeve with a pitiful expression. “Dad, I miss Ms. Hannah Gellar.” Barry closed his eyes for a moment, his trembling hand reaching to pat Felix’s head. “Emma, I’m giving you one last chance…” Before he could finish, I let out a scoff. “Fine, I’ll give it back to you.” Clearly taken aback by my unexpected compliance, Barry stared at me, his expression a mix of confusion and suspicion. “Emma, don’t pull any tricks. Otherwise, you’ll regret it.” I rolled my eyes, completely unfazed by his threat. After all, in my previous life, he had tortured me without a second thought. To him, I was merely an inconvenience, and this time, I wanted nothing more than to distance myself from him. The bond we once shared had vanished the moment he had someone humiliate me. All that was left was a simmering hatred. To ease his worries, I pulled out the recording pen and pressed play. In an instant, a soft, tearful voice filled the air. “Barry, it’s been six years since I left you. Have you been eating well every day? I… I miss you so much… “Barry, even though I’m gone, you have to… live well. Ahem… I will always love you and Felix…” Her voice was weak, punctuated by heart-wrenching coughs, making her sound utterly pitiful. Each word was a dagger aimed at Barry, who stood frozen, tears streaming down his face. Anyone would think Hannah was still his wife. Felix wiped his eyes and, almost unconsciously, called out, “Sister…” Watching the two of them, so alike in their infatuation, I couldn’t help but smirk. Once the recording ended, it was as if Barry had been drained of all energy. He staggered slightly. It made sense; this was the sixth recording, and only one remained. I had long wondered why Hannah insisted on leaving behind those seven recordings. If she truly wanted Barry to live well, she wouldn’t torment him with them every year. Back then, I naively believed Hannah wanted to help him out of his sorrow. But now, it was clear—she wanted to be the unforgettable woman in Barry’s heart. No one knew Hannah better than I did. After failing to win against me, she resorted to these underhanded tactics to reclaim her place, regardless of how many people would get hurt along the way. As long as she achieved her goal, it would all be worth it to her. I smiled sweetly as I pulled out another recording pen. “Barry, would you like to hear the last recording she left for you?”

Barry couldn’t possibly resist the urge to listen, but I wasn’t about to make it easy for him. “What’s your price? Whatever you want, I’ll agree to it! Emma, please, that recording means everything to me. Just give it to me!” I gave the recording pen a little shake, letting it tap against the cup with a sharp, clear sound. If I loosened my grip even slightly, it would plunge into the water. Barry hesitated, rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the pen in my hand. He had always been cold and dignified, but now, a mere recording had forced him to lower his guard. I couldn’t help but find it amusing, glancing at Felix, who was puffed up with indignation. After carrying him for nine months and raising him for thirteen years, it seemed my efforts paled in comparison to the carefree time Hannah had spent with him. If that was the case, I had no intention of bending over backward to please them any longer. I said, “Alright, but I want a divorce.” Barry’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief as he looked at me. “Emma, are you out of your mind? Do you even hear what you’re saying? Don’t use this to threaten me; it’s ridiculous!” Felix shook his head, adding, “Mom, you’re not a child anymore. You should know better.” I ignored their protests. I had been the responsible one for far too long, and it hadn’t saved me from their cruelty in my past life. As I tilted my wrist down, letting the recording pen near the water’s surface, Barry finally realized I was serious. After a brief moment of hesitation, he relented. “I’ll agree to it!” His words were a relief. “Great. So, we’ll split the assets evenly after the divorce. You won’t mind that, right?” Since Hannah’s death, Barry had been in a downward spiral, losing interest in the business. If it weren’t for me, the Gellar family wouldn’t have achieved what it had over the years. It was only fair that I took my share. To my surprise, Barry quickly agreed. To ensure he wouldn’t backtrack, I had a divorce agreement drafted and signed on the spot. Felix chimed in coldly from the side, “Mom, even if you divorce Dad, I’m sticking with him. Following a woman like you, who craves vanity, is just disgusting!” My hand paused mid-signature as I looked at him, momentarily confused. Felix thought he had figured me out, but before he could gloat, I feigned a sudden realization. I shrugged. “Oh, I almost forgot about you. “But honestly, I never planned on keeping you.” Felix, still just a kid, couldn’t hide his feelings, and his eyes turned red with anger. With the divorce agreement in hand, I tossed the recording pen to Barry. He caught it gingerly, as if it were a rare treasure. Watching him and Felix huddle together, I saw Barry’s trembling hands as he opened the pen, and Hannah’s sweet voice emerged. “Barry, if you still think of me seven years from now, come visit this place.” The recording continued, revealing the address of a luxurious estate abroad.

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Adam West and Patrick West’s assistant, Audrey Crawford, suffered from aplastic anemia. To ensure that she had a blood supply available in the future, the two brothers had me, who had the same blood type as Audrey, donate blood to her for a week. After a week, Audrey brought a glass of orange juice to me. I slapped it out of her hand and insisted on leaving West Mansion. Adam and Patrick did not stop me. “Is it really that serious? Just drinking a glass of orange juice,” they asked. ***** I did not look back as I walked out of West Mansion. After a week of continuous blood donations, my steps became unstable the moment I left the house. Behind me, Patrick remarked, “You’re such a good actress. How much blood did you donate?” I understood at that moment that I was utterly weak. I stood still, holding onto a tree nearby. Adam said, “Considering you donated blood for Audrey, you can still turn back. If you do, we won’t hold it against you for knocking over Audrey’s orange juice.” But he seemed to have forgotten that I was allergic to orange juice. When my parents went to Briden to start a business, they were worried about me being unable to take care of my health. Thus, they sent me to live with Gary West, my father’s old friend. Once, I had some orange juice and got allergic all over. Adam held me and rushed me to the hospital immediately. Patrick had banned any oranges from the house ever since then. When I was hospitalized, others joked that I had two young boyfriends. But Patrick explained seriously, “Charlotte is a princess. A princess should have knights and princes by her side.” Adam nodded in agreement. As time went on, I became more reluctant to leave Seabay, unwilling to go to a place without Patrick and Adam. But now, seeing the two of them gently comforting Audrey, I bit down the discomfort and took a taxi. In the car, I touched the needle marks and bruises on my arm from the blood donation. I checked the calendar on my phone and then called my mother. “Mom, I want to go to Briden. Does our marriage contract with the Wilson family still stand?” It was time to let go of everything in Seabay. The childhood promises with my playmates could no longer be taken seriously.

After leaving West Mansion, I had nowhere else to go, so I returned to my old house. But Adam, Patrick, and Audrey still came to visit. Audrey wanted to thank me. I sneered inwardly. The maid at West Mansion had already informed her that I was allergic to orange juice, but she still handed me a glass of it. Now she wanted to thank me? When Audrey saw me, she shrank back like a frightened rabbit. Patrick frowned and scolded, “Charlotte, that’s enough. Stop scaring Audrey with that long face.” If this were the past, he would have pulled out my favorite dessert like magic, grinning and saying, “Lotte is magnanimous. Don’t mind this, okay?” But now, it seemed like he hadn’t even noticed my pale face from giving so much blood. “Audrey is here to apologize, Charlotte. Don’t hold a grudge against her. Don’t be so ungrateful and rude,” Patrick said. I coldly looked at Patrick and said, “Please leave my house.” Patrick’s expression instantly changed. He didn’t expect me, the usually obedient and understanding Charlotte, to act so cold. “It’s all my fault, Lotte. If you’re upset, take it out on me. Don’t take it out on Patrick,” Audrey said, her eyes misty with tears. It seemed like she had suffered some great injustice. But who was the one truly wronged? When I had a fever, Adam made me cook for Audrey. On a trip to the mountains, Adam and Patrick left me alone on a lonely mountain road to pick Audrey up from work. When Audrey fainted at work, Adam and Patrick forced me to donate blood for three days, just to ensure Audrey would have blood available in the future in case she fainted again. I had paid back my debt to the West family with seven days of scorching hot blood. From now on, there would be no more debt. With that thought, I dragged my weakened body to open the drawer beside my bed. Inside was the bracelet Adam had bought for me after winning his first case. He had said I was his lucky star. There were also the many heartfelt drawings that Patrick had made of my face. I threw all these things, which I had once cherished, into a bag at my feet, one by one. Each of them, just like Adam and Patrick, would disappear from my world. Patrick widened his eyes in disbelief and said, “Charlotte, have you gone mad? These are my drawings for you!” Adam pushed up his glasses and disapprovingly said, “Charlotte, can you stop acting like a child?” Patrick muttered in complaint, “Unbelievable! She threw my drawings out like trash.” I pushed Audrey, who was standing in the doorway, and threw everything outside. They were about to come forward to pick it all up when Audrey’s soft voice interrupted. “My ankle, I think I sprained it.” Adam and Patrick’s eyes immediately fixed on the delicate girl, whose voice was filled with pain. I and all the memories we once shared were now selectively ignored by them. I curled my lips into a self-deprecating smile. It shouldn’t have been me who was trapped in the past. They anxiously asked Audrey about her injury, and Audrey, feigning pain, said softly, “Don’t blame Lotte. She didn’t mean to push me.” Upon hearing this, Patrick clenched his fists. He looked at me, displeased, and shouted, “Charlotte, apologize to Audrey immediately.” I stood frozen in place, my nails digging into my palm, blood seeping from the punctures. Seeing that I wouldn’t apologize, Adam kicked the bag I had just packed down the stairs. “Charlotte, I’ll sue you for intentional injury!” So this was the sharp-tongued, ruthless lawyer I once knew. I never imagined that one day, this cold, heartless side of him would be directed at me. I laughed and replied, “Sure, go ahead and sue me.”

I turned and walked away, unwilling to get entangled with them any longer. “Charlotte, where are you going?” Patrick’s voice, tinged with anxiety, came from behind me. I didn’t look back and replied, “Mrs. West said she missed me yesterday.” When I arrived at West Mansion, Scarlett West was startled by my pale face. “Patrick is always careless, but why didn’t Adam even send you here?” Scarlett had always kept me close since I was a child. She used to tease Patrick and Adam, saying, “Let’s see who can marry Charlotte.” But now, I no longer had that shy anticipation of the past. I calmly replied, “They’re busy. It’s normal for them to have their own things to deal with.” Scarlett furrowed her brows and gently touched my pale face. “Did those two scoundrels bully you? I’ll teach them a lesson for you!” I shook my head and smiled, “Mrs. West, there’s no need for that. I’ll be settling in with my parents soon.” Scarlett hugged my shoulders, sighing helplessly. “Charlotte, I don’t know what happened, but for you to have made the decision to leave, it must be those two bastards’ fault.” I leaned my head against her shoulder, drawing warmth from it. “Don’t tell Patrick or Adam. The jokes we made when we were young should never have been taken seriously.” Scarlett took a deep breath, looking at me with a helpless expression. “I’ll keep it a secret. But don’t forget to tell me before you leave.” At that moment, Patrick and Audrey entered, hand in hand, with confused expressions. “Who’s leaving? Where are they going?” I glanced briefly at their intertwined hands and lowered my head in silence. Scarlett looked at them with an unamused expression. “Charlotte’s going on a trip in a few days. By the way, don’t just bring anyone home.” She patted my hand. “Charlotte, I’ll go get some fruit. Just sit here; this is your home.” Patrick, who had been a bit anxious, visibly relaxed. “You said before that you wanted to see the aurora. When did you make the plans?” Adam loosened his tie and added, “Why didn’t you call Patrick and me along? We can bring Audrey too.” Noticing I wasn’t saying anything, Audrey whined and shook Patrick’s arm, her expression playful. “Lotte doesn’t like me, so don’t make things difficult for her.” She attempted to link arms with me, but I quickly pulled away, disgusted by her little trick. Audrey stumbled forward due to the force of her movement. There was a thick rug on the floor, yet she pretended to be delicate, clutching her leg and curling up on the ground. “Charlotte, you dare bully Audrey in our place?” I was violently shoved by Patrick, and my lower back hit the corner of the table. A sharp pain shot through my body. Cold sweat dripped from my forehead as I trembled uncontrollably. But Adam looked at me with disgust. “Stop pretending. You injured Audrey and now act like the victim.” I rubbed my ear, unable to believe what I was hearing. The two guys, who were always so perceptive, couldn’t even see through Audrey’s clumsy act. Their eyes and hearts had long since sided with Audrey. When they loved someone, they’d instinctively protect that person. Patrick hurriedly surrounded Audrey, anxiously asking if she was in pain. Adam picked Audrey up and rushed toward the door. As they passed me, Adam, without caring that I was unsteady on my feet from the collision, coldly said, “Don’t think about hurting Audrey again.” I met Audrey’s mocking gaze and laughed through clenched teeth. The one who was truly hurt was me. But thankfully, we would never have a next time. Leaving as soon as possible was the best decision I had ever made.   After getting my back treated at the hospital, I returned to West Mansion to pick up my forgotten passport. But the lock, which had been set with my birthday as the password, prompted an error. As Adam carried Audrey out of the car with a pained expression, I was curled up in a corner. Patrick sneered with a gloomy expression, “You came back again to play the pitiful act? Audrey’s kind-hearted and forgave you. If you want to stay here, stop thinking of bullying her.” Once my protectors, Patrick and Adam now warned me for someone else. Seeing me look at them coldly, Patrick’s eyes flickered with a hint of unease. “Charlotte, why are you looking at me like that? If you want to come back, just say it.” Audrey playfully patted Patrick’s arm and said, “Patrick, don’t be so harsh. You’re scaring Lotte. “By the way, Lotte, I twisted my ankle. Patrick asked me to stay here for a while. You won’t mind, will you? I’ve ordered a cake from the dessert shop you own. Let’s have a nice gathering.” Adam nodded and raised his chin toward me. “Charlotte, go get the cake. Audrey is trying to make amends with you. Don’t be so petty.” The cake Audrey had specially ordered was indeed enormous. The fondant little girl on top was surrounded by two boys. Ironically, the little girl’s curly hair looked just like Audrey’s. I stared at the cake for a while, a faint smile on my lips, but my heart felt completely still. I no longer felt any sadness from Patrick and Adam’s favoritism toward Audrey. Instead, I found myself wishing for the three of them to always remain happy together and never disturb my life again. I held the large cake and walked toward the cold storage door, but Audrey appeared with a smile on her face. “Lotte, you used to get along so well with Patrick and Adam, didn’t you?” Noticing the smugness in the corners of her eyes, I tried to leave. But Audrey raised an eyebrow and shoved me back into the cold storage. She slammed the door shut, and I could only watch the cake shatter into pieces on the floor. Patrick and Adam rushed in, and upon seeing the cream-covered floor and Audrey still crying, their faces grew even angrier. The temperature in the cold storage felt like ice arrows and could pierce through me. I trembled uncontrollably, trying to gather warmth by hugging my body. I once fell into a lake while ice skating, and since then, I couldn’t stand the cold. During that illness, Patrick had stayed by my bedside and cared for me day and night. Adam had found a famous doctor to treat me. They knew I couldn’t get cold, but now, not a single one of them cared that I was still locked in the cold storage. Adam’s voice, filled with suppressed anger, came through. “Charlotte, this is too much! This cake was designed by Audrey with great care.” Patrick, busy comforting the crying Audrey, didn’t have time to care about me. I was so frozen that I could barely speak. My body shook uncontrollably. I took a deep breath, and my teeth bit into my lip until it bled, just to make myself speak, “It’s really cold in here. Let me out.” Adam’s indifferent voice came from outside. “Apologize to Audrey first, or you can stay in there!” My lips had turned purple from the cold, and my throat felt like it was pierced by icy blades. Every breath I took was painfully sharp. How ridiculous. I had to beg to be freed from this place. And the ones who put me here were the two people I once thought I would spend the rest of my life with. The one I should apologize to was myself. I should have left when Audrey first appeared. I shouldn’t have continued hoping that Patrick and Adam would ever stand by me when they kept favoring her. I looked at the decorative piece in the corner, covered with satin. I suddenly pulled it away. Inside was an ice sculpture of Audrey, painstakingly carved by Patrick himself. I sneered, and despite my trembling hands, I threw the sculpture to the ground. The crisp sound of shattering echoed through the room. The door was hurriedly opened, and Patrick rushed in with a frantic expression. “Charlotte, what the hell are you doing? Do you have any idea what this is? I made this for Audrey!” I forced myself to suppress the trembling and ran upstairs, hastily throwing my documents into my bag. In a daze, I saw myself in the kitchen, experimenting with desserts. Patrick playfully smeared cream on my face, and Adam helplessly wiped it off. “I’ll deal with Patrick for you later. He made our princess look like a messy kitten.” But when I rubbed my eyes, all I saw were them glaring at me with anger. “You’re trying to scare us into thinking you’ll leave, huh? If you have the guts, just never come back!” Indeed, I would never return. I looked at the flight reminder for the next day on my phone. With no tears falling, my heart was already in utter turmoil.

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I’ve loved Chase for twelve years, during which I witnessed him dating various women. While everyone thought I would make this playboy mine, he blocked my number for another woman. Over a month later, he knelt to me and asked me to marry him, surrounded by a sea of flowers. I took a wedding invitation out of my bag and said to him with a smile, “I’m getting married next week. I hope you’ll come to my wedding.”

In college, I had “bought” a boyfriend. As long as he was with me, I would help him with his family’s medical expenses. That impoverished academic genius followed me for four years in a humiliating way. Then my family went bankrupt. On the day we broke up, he was still indifferent and didn’t even try to save the relationship. Later, I worked as a waitress at a wine club to pay off debts, and he became an important person in the tech world. He even started a relationship with Yolanda, the most beautiful girl in our class. He asked me, “Do you regret it?” “No.” “But I regret it.” *** After graduating for so many years, I never thought that I would reunite with Joseph Kirk in this way. When I served the fruit plate, I lowered my head, fearing that he would see my face. Yolanda sat next to him. They looked stunning, like a match made in heaven. “Waitress.” Joseph called me, so I walked over, and he said, “Cut up the orange.” With my back to him, I cut the orange into slices. A long time ago, when I loved to eat oranges, Joseph would cut them for me. He was good with the knife and could cut each piece to an even size. At that time, I even thought he loved me. Later I realized that it was just his habit to be perfect. When he cut oranges, he would think about everything in the world except me. We hadn’t seen each other for four years. However, it felt like half a lifetime had passed between us. Somehow, the guests started chatting about school romances. Someone said, “I heard Mr. Kirk had a four-year-long girlfriend when he was in college.” My movements paused. Joseph said, “Hmm.” “Isn’t that great? Four years, it’s basically your whole college life.” Joseph didn’t answer him. The man felt awkward and quickly found another topic, “Since the relationship lasted four years, it should be very memorable, right?” Still, Joseph remained silent like a serene lake. After an unknown amount of time, Joseph laughed. “Not at all.”

“It’s good enough that Joseph doesn’t hate her.” Yolanda explained. “Joseph and I were in the same college. Back then… Well, he had suffered. If it wasn’t for his ex-girlfriend getting in the way, would Joseph and I only get together now?” “Yes, exactly. Ms. Lynch is such a famous actress. No matter how good his ex-girlfriend was, she is inferior to you.” With that, the atmosphere became lively again. I pressed down my hat. All I wanted was to leave quickly. Then, I accidentally cut my hand with the fruit knife, and let out a cry in pain, which attracted the guests’ attention. “What’s the matter? You can’t even cut a fruit?” Yolanda complained. “Sorry, I’ll go get a clean plate.” After saying that, I took the plate and was about to leave. “Wait.” Joseph suddenly stopped me and said word for word, “Turn around.” My body seemed to be nailed in place. One second, two seconds… Fortunately, my manager, Morgan, came in time. “I’m sorry, this girl is new here. She’s not yet skilled at work. As an apology, all the fruit platters today are free.” Morgan winked at me, “Well? Aren’t you going to get a new fruit platter?” I was able to escape immediately. Later, Morgan came and talk to me. “Be smarter next time when something happens. Everyone starts from being a newcomer. If you were complained by the guest, everything you did tonight might be in vain.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Be especially careful when you’re at that VIP box. The distinguished guests are always there, especially the youngest and most handsome one in the middle. He’s the boss of an innovative technology company. We can’t afford to offend him.” “Miss Morgan, I’m a little scared. Can you please deliver the oranges for me?” I pleaded. “Sure.” I breathed a sigh of relief. If anyone in this world had already offended Joseph thoroughly, it would only be me. I am that nasty ex he mentioned just now. I still remember when I was a freshman in college. Joseph was wearing old clothes that had been washed into white. Standing in the pile of freshmen, he looked quite out of place. He was visibly poor. However, he was also tall and straight. I liked his clear and cold tone when he spoke. I also liked the way his thin eyelids drooped down when he looked at me. At that time, Joseph was very short on money, and the quota for poor students was given to others by the teacher. Therefore, after a certain evening class, I held his tender hand eagerly. “Joseph, I like you. Why don’t you become my boyfriend? I’m quite rich, and I can share my living expenses with you from now on. If you don’t want that, I will also give you money for a kiss.” Without a doubt, I was rejected. But at that time, my life was going pretty well, and I didn’t understand what setbacks were. The more he refused, the more I was entangled with him. Until one day, Joseph’s grandfather, who raised him, became critically ill. I paid the medical expenses for him without blinking an eye. Only then Joseph finally gave in to me. I foolishly thought that I had done him a great favor. It took me a long time to understand… Back then, I had had him but also destroyed him. After we were together, he still worked every day to earn living expenses. Although he rarely used my money, the situation got worse. There were rumors about Joseph circulating in school. They said he sold his body for money. The way our classmates looked at him changed, and some people even gave him hideous nicknames. At that time, I was still optimistic and naive. I took his hand and said, “Don’t bother them. They are all jealous.” …… I lived in my own world and never realized that Joseph was fighting that battle alone. In my senior year, my family went bankrupt. But I didn’t tell Joseph. I just called him out and said, “Let’s break up.” “Why?” He asked. “I’m tired.” “Okay.” That was how we parted. I guess he was happy because he was free at last. On the day we broke up, I deleted my WhatsApp account, broke my sim card, and got on the train to work in other cities to pay off my debts. I didn’t come back here until three months ago. From the look of it, Joseph seemed to be doing well. He had always been a genius. In college, he was the kind of super genius who out-turned the whole department. And, he was already a new star in the technology industry and finance magazine only four years after graduation. Yolanda was the prettiest girl in our class back then. She debuted in the entertainment industry and became a celebrity in her junior year. I never expected that they had become a pair. “Great. That’s great.” I muttered to myself. I clutched my chest, suppressing the sore feeling in my heart. At four o’clock in the morning, I finally got off work. I was the last one to leave. My colleagues thought there was no one else, so they turned off the lights early, and the elevator was shut down. I pressed the elevator button irritably, hoping it would light up. “You should make a call.” Joseph’s voice suddenly sounded behind me.

My movements became stiff, and I called a colleague. With that, the elevator reopened. Joseph and I stood in the cramped space. “Do you guys always leave work so late?” He asked calmly. “We can’t leave until the guests are gone.” “Is the pay very high here?” “It’s fine.” I lowered my head, using the brim of my hat to hide my face. Joseph didn’t seem to recognize me. He chatted casually and then looked at his watch. “This elevator is really slow. My girlfriend might be anxiously waiting for me. She is very clingy and loves to act coquettishly.” I was startled and realized he was talking about Yolanda. “What about you? You get off work so late. Won’t your boyfriend come to pick you up?” “I live close by.” Soon, the elevator arrived. As soon as the door opened, I walked out quickly. Joseph, who had been calm for several minutes, finally burst into anger. “What are you running for?” “Where else do you think you can run to? Scarlett!” “Was it fun for you to walk away and disappear without a trace?” With those questions, Joseph approached step by step. He was still the young man in my memory, but his youthfulness had faded, and he had become more mature and restrained. “You deleted your WhatsApp account. Your phone was unreachable. Even the college couldn’t find you. Heh! Scarlett, you are amazing.” I slowly raised my head to meet his gaze. “You should have… inquired about it with your connections, right? My family went bankrupt, and my dad got into financial disputes. We still haven’t paid off the debt…” “Why didn’t you tell me then?” I was dumbfounded. “Was it because you felt embarrassed? Ms. Reynolds?” “No…” Before I could finish, Yolanda came over. “Oh? Scarlett! It’s really you!” She was more beautiful than in college, delicate to every strand of her hair. “It’s been a long time! All our classmates have been looking for you. Why haven’t we heard anything about you in four years?” “I went to the south.” “No wonder.” Then, Yolanda looked at my clothes and said in surprise, “Scarlett, isn’t this the down jacket you bought in your junior year? The fluff has come out. Why are you still wearing it?” I used to buy clothes and throw them away after only wearing them for a year. She asked that question to make me feel embarrassed. However, at that point in my life, I was numb to such sarcasm. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s still wearable.” Yolanda looked as if she understood, “Are you going through something difficult right now? You should’ve told me earlier. I can help you.” She took out a bank card and handed it to me. “Take this and use it. You don’t have to pay back.” “Thanks, but I don’t need it,” I replied while looking at her, then at Joseph, and smiled quietly. “I’m getting married soon. Remember to attend when the time comes.” As soon as I finished, Joseph was stunned. Working at the club was just my part-time job. During the day, I still had to go to work. On Monday morning, a client visited the company. My colleagues were chatting, “I heard this client is a genius. He created this system intending to find someone.” “Huh? Who was he looking for?” “His ex-girlfriend.” Hearing that, my eyelids twitched, and I vaguely had a bad premonition. “So did he find her?” “I don’t know. The system has not been completed yet, but I heard that a lot of money had been invested, and the prospects are promising. That’s why our boss also wants to cooperate with him.” Later, I sorted out the information and walked to the reception room. At the door of the reception room, I heard Joseph’s voice. “About the cooperation, let me think about it.” I pushed the door open and put the documents on the table. Joseph’s gaze was scorching and he asked, “Why are you here?” “For work.” It is my official job. Mr. Lawrence, the general manager of the company, was curious, “Scarlett, do you know Mr. Kirk?” I thought about it and replied, “We’ve met before.” “Only met?” Joseph was mad again. I was unsure what he was angry about. Wasn’t he the one who never looked back on the day we broke up? He pointed at me, “Mr. Lawrence, I can sign the contract, provided that Scarlett is brought in as my assistant.” Lawrence agreed immediately, without even giving me a chance to refute. Then, they discussed the project for a whole day. In the evening, I packed my bag and planned to leave work on time. Joseph stopped me, “Where are you going? I haven’t let you go yet.” “Mr. Kirk, I can’t work overtime today. I have something else to deal with.” “What is that exactly?” “I’m going to deliver food,” I answered. Joseph looked at me in disbelief. I used to be so delicate that I never eat takeaway at all. During his four years in college, Joseph went to work part-time after class, delivering food. His dinner was often a hamburger given for free by the delivery company. Once I went to find him. In the cramped room, he huddled with a group, eating hamburgers from a box. Back then, I said, “Joseph, why are you eating this? It’s not clean.” His expression was unnatural, “Does it matter if it’s clean?” “Come with me. Accompany me to have steak.” Then, I took him to a newly opened restaurant that was expensive. He stood at the restaurant’s door for a while and took off his delivery clothes in silence. After my family went bankrupt, I finally understood his emotions that day. It was just like today. It snowed while I was preparing to deliver food. The ground was very slippery, I fell, and the takeaway fell to the ground too. I called the client to explain, but he scolded me instead. He shouted, “Don’t make excuses! If you are late, you are late.” The scratches on my palm hurt in the cold winter, but I didn’t care about it and kept apologizing. Suddenly, Joseph appeared and picked up my scooter. I didn’t know when he came and how long he had been looking at me. Subconsciously, I hid my hands behind my back. “Don’t hide it.” He said in a hoarse voice. His eyes were red as he continued, “Go and wash it off.” “I have to deliver food.” “Get in the car. I’ll take you there.” The customer lived on the first floor. When I delivered the food, he muttered, “Wow, even those who drive a Porsche also deliver food?” Later, I wanted to accept more orders. Joseph said, “Don’t take more orders.” “No, I earned too little tonight.” I retorted. “Then I’ll buy it.” “What?” I was dumbfounded. With a ding, the system automatically accepted the order he had assigned. “I’ll buy your time tonight.”

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I was my family’s lucky star. I predicted the lottery numbers, and my gambling-addict father, buried in debt, won a hundred million dollars. I predicted the SAT answers, and my underachieving little brother was admitted to Stanford with a full scholarship. I predicted Trump’s election as president, and my mother, riding on my predictions, was hailed as a prophetess across the internet, basking in endless admiration. The whole family now treated me like I was made of gold. But I coldly watched as they reveled in their joy. They’d long forgotten that, two years ago, I was the “cursed child” subjected to endless insults. But it didn’t matter—I’d make sure they remember. As soon as I walked into the house, my mom eagerly linked her arm to mine. “Sweetheart, we’ve all been waiting for you to cut the cake!” Squatting by the dining table, my dad and my brother wore expressions of faint dissatisfaction, but it was overshadowed by their ingratiating smiles. I glanced at the clock in the living room. It was 00:47 AM. Raymond’s twenty-third birthday had already passed. In the past, if I were even a minute late to Raymond’s birthday, my mom would have dragged me by the ear and made me apologize. Because Raymond was the White family’s golden child. But things had all changed. Now, Raymond, the same big-sized guy who used to look down on me, bent over deferentially to guide me to the seat of honor. The rundown apartment building had been swapped for a luxurious villa, and all the furniture was upgraded to top-quality solid wood. Raymond rubbed his hands together and pushed the large birthday cake in front of me. His eyes were filled with anticipation. I gave him a faint smile. “What do you want for your birthday this year?” Raymond plopped down next to me, and his eyes gleamed with perversion. “Stone, I want my boss’ daughter to chase after me—preferably so publicly that everyone knows about it!” I froze for a second, sizing up my chubby and pig-faced brother, and agreed. Thanks to my “blessing”, Raymond landed a job at a prestigious company. His boss’ daughter had just returned from overseas and was currently Raymond’s direct supervisor. Raymond had been pursuing her for some time, but the girl didn’t even spare him a glance. Seeing how readily I agreed, my mom frowned in disdain. “That girl’s probably dumped by others, isn’t she? Is she even worthy of our Raymond?” My dad nodded fervently. Ever since I came back, my parents had become insatiably arrogant. Even the daughter of a major corporate CEO was beneath their standards. In their minds, even the president’s daughter wouldn’t be good enough for Raymond. As my parents continued to insult Raymond’s crush, he only let out a lewd laugh. “That’s just for fun. Anyway, once I’m bored, I can always dump her. “Besides, with Stone around, what kind of woman can’t I play with?” “With Stone around” had become a mantra for the entire family. I smiled without saying a word and excused myself, claiming I was tired. My bedroom was no longer a storage room. It faced south, spacious and bright. Intricate Versailles-style tiles covered the floor, and gold-trimmed, carved walls framed the space. The bed was adorned with blue crystal accents at the headboard and footboard, blending with the dark woodgrain to exude luxury. And all of this just because I was the family’s lucky star. I could grant one wish for someone each week. The better they treated me, the fewer restrictions there were on the wish. From promotions to immortality, anything was possible. Just because it was Raymond’s birthday, they cheerfully gave this week’s wish to him. They forgot that today was also my birthday. They said, “What’s the point of remembering the birthday of a worthless girl?” I’d heard those words for over a decade. Even the birth date on my ID card was made up. It was better they didn’t remember. I lay on the soft and comfortable bed, and their greedy laughter still rang in my ears. They were eagerly arguing over next week’s wish. Too bad they didn’t know that all wishes came with a price.

Early the next morning, before I was fully awake, my mom was already helping me wash up in the bathroom. When I was done, she crouched at my feet to help me put on socks, muttering under her breath, “Sweetheart, look how much I love you.” Every word was about love, but the calculating gleam in her eyes was practically spilling out. I smiled and glanced at my grandmother, who was mopping the living room floor. Now that we were rich, we should’ve hired a few housekeepers. But my parents refused—not because they didn’t want to spend the money, but because they were greedy. They were so greedy that they were afraid an outsider might somehow siphon away my “blessings”. So, they took it upon themselves to bring my grandmother from the countryside to work as a maid. At breakfast, the table was filled with eighteen dishes—chicken, duck, fish, seafood—each one exquisitely prepared. I picked up a fork and took one bite before frowning. “Why is this food so spicy? Who can eat this?” The next second, Raymond exploded. “Grandma, what the hell is wrong with you?” My mom immediately chimed in, scolding, “Making food like this? You might as well just drop dead!” With a few words, Grandma’s eyes were already red. With a sigh, she shakily got up and returned to the kitchen to make something else. As her footsteps faded away, no one at the table showed any reaction. After all, everyone knew I hated Grandma. That was an established fact in our family. The first day Grandma was brought back to the family, I told them that anyone could make a wish to me except for Grandma. My family saw no problem with my heartless behavior. In fact, to please me, they deliberately found ways to pick on Grandma in front of me. With that little interruption out of the way, the table returned to a lively and harmonious atmosphere. I took a bite of pasta and felt something hard inside. Digging through it, I found a small piece of sweet potato. I froze for a moment. It was my exclusive birthday gift. In the countryside, pasta was a luxury. Every year on the night before my birthday, Grandma would sneak into a neighbor’s field in the dead of night to steal sweet potatoes. The sweet potatoes were very sweet. But they also carried bitterness. I wiped away the tears at the corner of my eyes. From my seat, I could see the kitchen and Grandma’s busy figure. By the time she brought out the new dishes, the table was already a mess. Not a single bite was left for her. I couldn’t bear to look anymore. Two years ago, I wasn’t the family’s lucky star. I was the cursed one, and Grandma was the old hag. Back then, the entire family lived in a basement apartment that cost 100 dollars a month to rent. Dad gambled, Mom played cards, and I became their unpaid maid. At five, I learned to do laundry. At seven, I stood on a stool to cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner for everyone. There was a small dent on my forehead, left from my mom poking me hard with her finger. She loved to jab my head while cursing, “You are a jinx! Worthless brat! You stole my son’s place in my womb just to live a good life? I won’t let you!” My mom said the fortune-teller had predicted she’d give birth to a boy. She believed it was my witchcraft that made me a girl instead. I didn’t understand any of it back then. I only knew that their yelling and anger left me trembling. I had no bed but only a spot on the floor. In my dreams, I wished over and over that I’d been born a boy. Then, when I turned ten, they finally had a son. And finally, they remembered to give me a real name. I was named Stone. My brother was named Raymond. A symbol of a common stone versus a symbol of light and glory. When Raymond started school, I was formally relieved of my “nanny” duties. Even when I held onto a perfect report card, begging and kowtowing to my parents all night, even when my teacher pleaded with them, they threw me back to the countryside without hesitation. I walked alone through the winding mountain paths from sunrise to sunset before finally reaching Grandma’s house. Grandma was skinny yet always gentle. She greeted me with a warm smile from the front of her thatched cottage. My parents only visited once a year during the New Year, and even then, it was to covet Grandma’s land. “Mom, you’re in your seventies. What do you need a plot of land for? “I owe 500 thousand dollars. Jack said I could trade the land for it. I’m your son. You can’t just ignore this!” Grandma’s only response was silence. That night, Grandma lit a rare fire, filling the little house with warmth. But no matter how I coaxed or begged, she didn’t smile. A million dollars of gambling debt—the land could cover most of it. They wouldn’t let Grandma go. Sure enough, the next day, my dad burst into the house with a machete in hand, like a demon straight from hell. That night, I dragged him up the mountain. I gave him a string of numbers and told him to buy a lottery ticket. By some twist of fate, he did. That string of numbers won him two million dollars. Overnight, my family struck it rich. I watched his manic celebration with indifference. That day, the once-silent village came alive with the sound of firecrackers. Everyone said Raymond had made a fortune and was taking me back to live a good life. Before I left, I told Grandma, “I’ll bring you back. And don’t ever make a wish to me, or it’ll cost you your life!” Grandma quietly cleaned up the leftovers on the table. Meanwhile, my dad was still pestering me about which numbers would win the lottery. My mom, slipping a new gold necklace around my neck, whispered about her desire for painless beauty.

A few days later, Raymond was beaming at the dinner table. The reason? The cold daughter of his boss had not only added his contact information but also confessed to him publicly. She had even kissed him on the cheek in front of her father. But suddenly, Raymond’s tone shifted, and he erupted in anger. “You don’t even know! That old bastard was so furious that his daughter fell for me, and he fired me yesterday. “I’m going to make him grovel at my feet and lick my boots! “Stone, let’s use this week’s wish to help me out again!” For once, Raymond’s doting parents spoke in unison, “No!” Raymond’s eyes widened. “Why not?” Dad looked sheepish. “I’ve got something more urgent this time. We’ll let you take your turn next week, okay?” No sooner had he finished than Mom slammed the table. “Leon, what’s that supposed to mean? You’ve been hogging the wishes for weeks! This time, it’s my turn!” Sitting at the head of the table, I watched as my parents argued heatedly while I calmly sipped my soup. Dad had just lost another 200 million dollars in gambling. The debt collectors had come knocking the day before, threatening to chop off his hands and feet if he didn’t pay up soon. But he wasn’t worried. With me around, owing a few billion dollars was nothing to him. Yesterday, however, Mom came to me as well. She had built a reputation online as a mysterious fortune-teller. Everything she predicted was spot-on, earning her countless followers and admiration. But her fame had attracted the attention of a powerful woman—a former mafia matriarch—who demanded that Mom locate her kidnapped husband, one of the richest men in our country. This woman had given Mom a deadline. Find him by the end of the week, or the entire family would be executed. But a week’s wish only allowed for one person. Mom was so angry that she was shaking. “Do you even understand how much 200 million dollars is? Gambling on that scale is a death wish!” Dad choked out, “And are you so much better? You make outrageous claims without a second thought. If that mafia lady finds out about Stone’s ability, what do you think will happen to us?” Their eyes locked, and sparks flew. The atmosphere around the table grew increasingly tense and dangerous. Mom moved first. In a flash, she slapped Dad hard across the face. “Leon, I’ve served your family for so many years. This wish is mine!” With a cry, Dad stumbled and fell to the ground. But he quickly retaliated, swinging his fists at Mom. In an instant, their faces were bruised and bloody, and their skin was marked with deep scratches. Having watched the spectacle long enough, I furrowed my brow and pretended to hesitate. I said, “You’re both my family…” Mom immediately clung to my arm. “Your father wanted to drown you when he saw you were a girl. If it weren’t for me, you’d be long dead! You have to help me!” Dad panicked, too. “Your mom stole a few thousand dollars your teacher gave you for school and cursed you to die every single day. I still have the message records to prove it!” Raymond, uninterested in their squabbling, was enthusiastically texting on his phone. I sighed deeply, “Mom, Dad, if it was so urgent, you should have said something earlier. Last week’s wish for Raymond wasn’t even that critical.” Without looking up, Raymond scoffed, “You two totally deserve this. Parents are supposed to make sacrifices for their kids.” He added, rubbing his greasy mouth against my sleeve, “Stone, I’m the only son. Just give me this week’s wish!” I quickly nodded. “You’re absolutely right. The White family’s future depends on Raymond continuing the bloodline.” Raymond shot up from his seat, and his bulky frame towered over our scrawny parents. Mom shrieked, “You ungrateful brat! Do you want me to die?!” Raymond reacted swiftly, shoving Mom aside and swinging his arm for a punch. “You’re still alive, aren’t you? What are you whining about?” The punch landed squarely, leaving Mom seeing stars as she fell to the ground. She never imagined she’d mean so little to Raymond “How dare you! I’m your mother!” Raymond glared at Mom with hostility, and his voice dripped with resentment. “If you’re really my mom, you’d give me the wish!” “You!” Clutching her chest, Mom gasped for breath. Dad, on the other hand, was grinning, egging Raymond on. “Your mom only ever thinks about herself. She’s going too far.” In no time, my father and Raymond had formed an alliance. My mom cursed, “You two bastards!” Raymond glared even harder. He barked, “You don’t deserve to be my mom!” He kicked my mom viciously. This time, he used too much force. Mom was sent flying several feet, and her head slammed into the wall. Blood gushed out instantly!

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On my wedding night, my husband slept with my maid of honor. And she was my best friend. My face went pale as I watched him kneeling and slapping himself across the face in desperation. He claimed it was all because he had been shielding me from the alcohol, that the booze had clouded his judgment. A month later, my best friend found out she was pregnant. The doctor said her health was too fragile, and after an abortion, she probably wouldn’t be able to conceive again. She sobbed, her eyes red, telling me she wanted to keep the baby. She said her greatest dream had always been to become a mother. I couldn’t help but feel deeply for her—her strength was both heartbreaking and inspiring. To make up for my husband’s mistake, I threw myself into supporting her during her pregnancy. But after the baby was born, I caught a glimpse of the truth—my husband sneaking into the hospital room. Through the door, I heard the unmistakable sounds of them kissing. Amelia, who had once raged at him for what he had done, now giggled and said, “Why are you here? What if Cassandra finds out?” Nathaniel, still smiling, gently tapped her nose. “I’m just checking on my child. Besides, we’ve done this so well—she’ll never suspect.” ***** I stood frozen outside the door, clutching the bowl of bird’s nest soup. My vision blurred, and my legs almost gave out under me. For the past few weeks, I had given up my job to care for Amelia, going back and forth to the hospital every day. Just two hours ago, Amelia had asked for the soup I had made, saying she felt weak and needed some nourishment. Concerned for her health and the strain of late pregnancy, I rushed home to prepare it. Worried that it might cool down and become unappetizing, I cradled the steaming bowl carefully in my arms and hurried over to the hospital to deliver it. But as I reached the door, I walked right into this shocking scene. Ever since the wedding, I’d felt an overwhelming sense of guilt toward Amelia. Her life had been permanently altered by that night, and every day since, she had lived in its shadow. When we were together, her gaze would sometimes turn vacant, and she would tear up without warning. At home, she would retreat to the bathroom for hours, often shaking uncontrollably late into the night. She didn’t resist me—of all people, she trusted me. Anyone else who came near her would send her into a panic, crying out, screaming, and smashing anything she could get her hands on. I couldn’t stand seeing her like this, so I quit my job and devoted myself to taking care of her full-time. I took her out whenever I could to get her mind off things, making sure she got some fresh air and a change of scenery. At night, I stayed up until I was certain she had fallen asleep before I let myself get any rest. I told myself I was doing this to help her move on, but deep down, I knew I couldn’t undo the damage. The guilt of what had happened had become too much to bear. But after hearing the sounds from inside that hospital room, everything I had believed shattered into pieces. Amelia was still teasing Nathaniel. “Come on, you’d better leave. Cassandra will be back soon. How are you going to explain this to her?” Nathaniel chuckled, planting a kiss on the baby and then on her lips. “You’re glowing after the birth—how can I possibly resist?” Amelia playfully hit his chest, pulling him closer for a deeper kiss. “It’s because your amazing wife took such great care of me,” she said with a smile. “Having such a wonderful wife—I guess you’ve forgotten all about me.” Nathaniel’s face softened as he stroked her hair. “I can’t risk being seen, you know that. But Amelia, I only have eyes for you.” I could barely hold myself up. The bird’s nest soup burned my hand, leaving a red mark, but I couldn’t feel it. Only the weight of disbelief crushed me, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

After a few more moments, the two inside exchanged their goodbyes, and I quickly retreated into the stairwell. From there, I could see everything. Nathaniel stood by the door for a long time before finally walking away. When he turned, I saw a satisfied smile on his face, one that made my heart freeze. The chill spread through my body, making my limbs feel heavy and cold. Since that night, Nathaniel hadn’t smiled in front of me once. He’d been consumed with guilt, his eyes red and hollow with regret. He despised himself for what he had done, for sinking so low. The man I had once loved, the confident and charming Nathaniel, had been replaced with someone broken. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, but at the same time, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was suffering, too. This wasn’t just his fault. Amelia had lost everything—her job, her ability to move on. She had even tried to take her own life. And through all of this, I was the one left to pick up the pieces. I had to comfort Nathaniel, all while bearing the pain of his betrayal. I also had to care for Amelia, overcome with guilt for the part I had played in her suffering. It had been a year since that night, and Amelia hadn’t seen Nathaniel again. Whenever anyone mentioned his name, she would fly into a frenzy, screaming “rapist” and destroying anything in her path. But just now, she had been flirting with him, her face glowing with affection. Her smile, the way she looked at him—it wasn’t the look of someone who had been traumatized. I stood in the stairwell for what felt like hours, the bird’s nest soup cold and forgotten in my hands. Finally, Amelia called me. “Cassandra, where are you? I’m starving!” Her voice was sharp, impatient. I felt a pang of guilt twist in my stomach, but I forced myself to sound calm. “Sorry, I forgot to turn off the stove. The soup burned.” “Oh no, are you okay? Don’t worry. I can just order something.” She sounded concerned, but I could barely hold it together. I replied with a soft “mm” and hung up the phone. Without a second thought, I threw the soup into the trash. My hand was blistered, but the pain felt distant, irrelevant. Instead, all I could feel was the crushing weight of the past year, of everything I had been forced to endure. But now, I understood the truth. Amelia didn’t care about the soup. She had used it as a distraction so she could sneak around with Nathaniel. Lost in thought, I found myself on the rooftop of the hospital. I stared down, tears blurring my vision. For the first time in a year, I cried for myself. I had convinced myself that their pain was greater than mine, that their suffering outweighed my own. But the brutal truth was now clear; I had been played. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore, releasing all the pent-up emotions I had held inside. When I finally stopped, I looked up at the sky. The sunset was breathtaking, with vibrant colors painting the horizon. A cool breeze ruffled my hair, and slowly, the fog lifted from my mind. Why should I bear the weight of their mistakes? I needed to take a step back and rethink everything.

I replayed everything that happened on my wedding day in my mind. A year ago, Nathaniel and I got married at my family’s villa. Nathaniel wasn’t fond of large gatherings, so we kept the guest list small, inviting only close family and friends. We had a blast, replacing the usual formal toasts with a fun drinking game that everyone enjoyed. I was having the time of my life, and Nathaniel, ever the supportive husband, stood by with a smile, helping me take shots. Everyone was commenting on how sweet and loving we were as a couple. A few hours later, I noticed Nathaniel seemed off. His hand, which was holding mine, felt unusually hot, and his eyes were glassy. I gently encouraged him to take a break, assuring him I could handle the rest. Amelia, my maid of honor, had joined in the fun, but it was obvious she wasn’t interested. She got up, yawning, and asked if there was somewhere she could rest. I remembered there was a guest room upstairs, so I suggested she go take a nap. In between games, I started to worry about Nathaniel. He’d drunk a lot, and I was concerned he might be getting too intoxicated. I decided to leave the game for a moment and check on him upstairs. But when I opened the door to our bedroom, what I saw would haunt me for the rest of my life. Nathaniel was on top of Amelia, both of them disheveled. Amelia’s dress was torn, and when she saw me, she screamed, “Cassandra, your husband’s gone crazy!” The world seemed to collapse around me in an instant. Without thinking, I rushed toward them, shoving Nathaniel off her. He tumbled to the floor, dazed. His confused expression told me he was still drunk and hadn’t realized what was going on. Before he could react, I slapped him across the face with all my strength. That slap seemed to wake him up. His face went pale as he realized the gravity of the situation. Everything around me blurred, and I could hardly breathe. The only thing I remember clearly is wrapping Amelia in a blanket and seeing Nathaniel kneeling, begging for forgiveness. He claimed he was too drunk and had mistaken Amelia for me. Amelia cried, saying she had gotten lost and accidentally walked into the wrong room, only to be attacked by Nathaniel as soon as she opened the door. The noise from downstairs had drowned out her cries for help. It was all a tragic, terrible mistake. I was trembling, unable to speak as I pointed at Nathaniel. Amelia clung to my sleeve, tears pouring down her face as she begged me not to tell anyone. “Cassandra, please don’t tell anyone. A woman’s reputation is everything. If this gets out, I’m finished!”   Looking at Amelia’s devastated face, I froze. What was I supposed to do? This was my husband, the man I loved more than anyone. And even though it was Amelia being hurt, I couldn’t deny that I was just as lost as she was. Nathaniel, seeing my shock, crawled over to me. He was in a desperate attempt to show his remorse and slapped himself twice. “Honey, I swear, I didn’t mean to. I was so drunk. I thought it was you…” He turned to Amelia, bowing his head repeatedly, apologizing. “Amelia, I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything to make it right. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you!” Amelia pushed him away violently, screaming, “Get away! Don’t ever come near me again!” The sight before me made my heart boil with rage, but it also broke my heart. I was furious at Nathaniel for not controlling himself, for doing something so monstrous. But I also knew I had my own share of responsibility. If he hadn’t been trying to shield me from the alcohol, none of this would have happened. I comforted Amelia for hours until she finally calmed down. I helped her into the bathroom and found her a fresh outfit. Fortunately, I had a spare maid-of-honor dress, so nobody would notice the tear in her clothing. Meanwhile, Nathaniel stayed downstairs with the guests, fighting to keep his emotions under control. After Amelia left, I was left feeling completely lost. When I returned to the front room, the guests looked at me with knowing smiles. “Cassandra, what’s going on? You’re already getting your wedding night over with?” I froze, my gaze landing on Nathaniel’s neck, where a prominent red mark stood out. The teasing from the guests felt like a knife to my chest, and I could barely breathe. But I forced myself to smile, hiding the pain. Amelia had begged me not to tell anyone, and I had promised. This was supposed to be the most important day of my life, my wedding day. And this is what had happened. All I could do was swallow my pride and pretend everything was fine. That night, we didn’t have our honeymoon. After sending the guests off, we rushed to Amelia’s apartment. She had torn everything apart, shouting for Nathaniel to leave. Nathaniel’s eyes were bloodshot, full of guilt. And all he could do was turn and walk away. From then on, I took care of Amelia every day. As a woman, I understood the deep emotional toll this had taken on her. At that time, my company had just gone public, and things were looking up. But for Amelia’s sake, I sold my shares at a loss, passing them to a competitor. I also replaced everything Amelia had destroyed, no questions asked. She gave me a list of what she wanted, and I didn’t hesitate to buy it for her. But looking back, I realize how much was wrong with all of this. A month later, Amelia found out she was pregnant. When I saw the pregnancy test, it felt like the ground had disappeared beneath me. I remember frantically grabbing her hand, ready to take her to the clinic for an abortion. But Amelia, tears streaming down her face, told me the doctor had warned her that her body wouldn’t be able to handle it. If she had the abortion, she might never be able to have children again. She wanted to keep the baby. Looking at her face, I finally understood what it felt like for the world to collapse around me. This was Nathaniel’s child, the child that had been conceived that night. But it was more than just that—since the wedding, Nathaniel had been distant, consumed by guilt, never coming near me again. Now, Amelia was carrying his child. “Cassandra, please, I really want this child. You know I grew up without parents…” Amelia’s voice was broken, and her eyes pleaded with me. My heart wavered. Amelia had grown up in an orphanage, and her greatest desire had always been to feel the love of a family. I knew that, and I couldn’t ignore it. This child might be her only chance at finding some kind of family, some kind of love. I couldn’t bear the thought of her losing it. What would she do if I forced her to get rid of it? I couldn’t say no. After many long talks with Nathaniel, we agreed to let Amelia keep the child. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes, his voice barely audible as he said, “Honey, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I’ll take responsibility for it.” I shook my head, tears falling. “No, we’re married. We face this together.” From that moment on, my life became a blur of sleepless nights. No matter what time it was, if Amelia called, I had to get up and attend to her needs. Nathaniel, unable to face her, stayed home cooking meals for me. But I barely had a moment to sit down before Amelia would call again. Sometimes Nathaniel would sigh and mutter, “If only I hadn’t drunk so much that day…” Each time, my guilt deepened. The stress of sleepless nights took a toll on me. When the baby was born, I cried harder than Amelia did. I thought things would get better and I could finally catch a break. But instead, Amelia became even more demanding. The sweet, caring friend I had known was gone. Now, looking back, everything seemed suspicious. How could Nathaniel have mistaken Amelia for me? Amelia and I have a significant height difference, and I was wearing a wedding dress that day. How could Nathaniel possibly mistake me for her? Amelia and I have been like sisters since childhood. She often came over to my house. How could she have gotten lost in the house she knew so well? And when Amelia made her long lists of demands—always the latest designer clothes, bags, and furniture—something didn’t add up. How could someone so emotionally traumatized be so concerned with material things? The more I thought about it, the colder I felt. Everything had been wrong from the start.   After piecing everything together, I made my way back to the hospital room. When I looked at Amelia again, a chill ran through me. She was chatting away with the nurse, smiling, completely indifferent to my presence. “Your postpartum nurse is so attentive. You’re really recovering well,” the nurse said. “Oh, yes. Cassandra really knows how to take care of people,” Amelia replied with a grin. During my time in the delivery room, she’d insisted that I play the role of the postpartum nurse. She claimed that since she had no family support, this would prevent anyone from looking down on her in the hospital. Although it made me uncomfortable, I had agreed. When the nurse saw me, she handed the baby to me without hesitation. “You disappeared for a while? New moms need someone with them 24/7 during recovery, didn’t you know that?” she scolded. I didn’t respond. I just stared coldly at Amelia. I wanted to confront her, to ask her about everything that had happened in the room earlier. To ask if she had ever truly considered me a friend. Amelia met my gaze but quickly flinched and looked away, her face a mask of guilt. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. With a neutral expression, I took the baby and smiled faintly at the nurse. “I’ll be more careful,” I said. Seeing that I was back to normal, Amelia visibly relaxed. She quickly tried to smooth things over. “I think I’m almost ready to be discharged. Cassandra, if you’re tired, you can go home and rest. You don’t need to stay with me all the time,” she said. I pursed my lips. It was clear she was trying to get me out of the way to avoid any more interruptions. Without thinking, I tightened my grip on the baby, making it cry. Amelia’s expression changed instantly. “Cassandra, I’ve already been very patient with you today. How can you not even calm the baby down? Don’t forget that this child is here because of both of you—” she started, her voice thick with fake emotion. It was one of her usual tricks. She knew how to make me feel guilty just by mentioning that day. That was how she controlled me. But not today. I looked down at the baby in my arms, whose face reminded me so much of Nathaniel’s, and a wave of nausea hit me. I walked over to her and shoved the baby into her arms. “Since it’s your baby, shouldn’t you know how to comfort it?” I asked coldly. Amelia looked shocked, staring at me for a moment. She seemed to shrink back, stammering, “Cassandra, you must be exhausted. Take a few days off. You don’t need to take care of me anymore.” Take a break? She had gotten so used to me running around after her that it had become second nature. But this was exactly what I had been waiting for. “Fine, I’ll take a few days off,” I said. Standing up straight, I saw a glint of triumph flash in Amelia’s eyes. At home, Nathaniel had made dinner and was waiting for me. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d worn when he met Amelia, and I could faintly smell the sterile scent of the delivery room on him. My stomach turned. As soon as I sat down, he spoke up, “Honey, work’s been crazy lately. I might have to go on a business trip for a while.” News traveled fast, didn’t it? I smiled faintly, as if nothing had happened, and picked up my fork. “Alright, stay safe.” He looked at me, caught off guard by my lack of questions. He quickly noticed the blisters on my hand and asked, “Honey, what happened to your hand? Do you want me to put some ointment on it?” As he spoke, he propped himself up and reached out to take my hand to examine it more closely. His concern had once been enough to make me believe he cared. I subtly pulled my hand back. I didn’t want to touch this disgusting man anymore. Nathaniel’s expression darkened. “You think I’m dirty, don’t you? Cassandra, I’m sorry.” In the past, whenever Nathaniel said things like that, I’d feel a pang of pity. Now, I realized—he and Amelia had been playing me all along. I looked up and met his eyes. This was the first time I had truly looked into his eyes when he said something like that. There was no remorse, no guilt, and certainly no love for me. It was all just a performance. My heart went cold. “I’m just a little tired,” I said. Seeing my mood had soured, Nathaniel didn’t press further. After dinner, I went to my room. Since that incident, we had been sleeping in separate rooms. I heard the sound of water running from the bathroom next to the study and quietly opened the door. I found his clothes in the doorway and grabbed his phone. I tried a few passwords, but none of them worked. Finally, I entered Amelia’s birthday, and it unlocked. Everything was falling into place. Nathaniel had covered his tracks well. There were no obvious clues on his phone. He didn’t have Amelia’s contact number, meaning she likely had another account. Clinging to the last shred of hope, I opened the messages. I froze when I saw the message recycle bin. The contents made my stomach churn. It was a conversation between Nathaniel and Amelia from a year ago. The date was our wedding day. Amelia: [Can’t you be a bit smarter? Cassandra almost caught us. Luckily, I reacted quickly. You can’t even get married without causing trouble.] Nathaniel: [Oh, right, smart ass, aren’t you? You made me out to be a rapist in front of Cassandra. How am I supposed to live with her? What about the inheritance?] Amelia: [Didn’t you text me saying you wanted some fun? Now it’s my fault? I don’t care what you do. You need to get the inheritance.] My vision blurred, and my stomach twisted painfully. Then, the bathroom door opened.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397603”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

During Black Friday, I unexpectedly received 68 packages. The delivery was addressed to my husband, but to my horror, each package contained lingerie that was… extremely revealing. I was mortified, yet part of me considered trying them on as a surprise for my husband. But none of them fit me. Staring at the lingerie, I felt as if I had fallen into a freezing abyss. With trembling hands, I took a photo and sent him a message. Felicity: [Graham, who did you buy these for?] ***** Graham Voss didn’t respond right away. Instead, he called me. I stared at the word “Hubby” on the screen, my heart sinking. Graham and I had been in love since college, and we’d always been so happy together. But now… I shook off the thought, took a deep breath, and answered the phone. But it wasn’t his voice that answered. “Felicity! It’s Adrian!” I froze. “The packages… It’s a misunderstanding. This was part of a Black Friday sale. I just wanted to use Graham’s account to get some coupons, and the address… well…” He stuttered, but I immediately understood. “Felicity, you didn’t think I bought those, did you?” His familiar voice, full of unfiltered amusement, sent a pang through me. It was the same voice that had once made my heart race. I exhaled, my nerves calming. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” I apologized, and he chuckled softly. “It’s my fault. I should’ve told you earlier. I’m working late tonight. Go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll be there when you wake up.” I nodded, feeling a little lighter. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. After six years of marriage, we still felt like newlyweds. I was truly lucky. The next morning, the first thing I saw when I woke up was a bouquet of 999 roses. Graham beamed as he brought over a perfectly made breakfast. “Did my princess stay up late last night? Want to take a nap after your medicine?” A year ago, I had suffered severe burns in an accident. Because the injuries were so extensive, I’d undergone multiple skin graft surgeries over the past year. Graham had been by my side every step of the way, always more concerned with my treatment and recovery than I was. I watched him, noticing the stubble on his chin. “The wounds are nearly healed. I can apply the medicine myself now. But you… You didn’t stay up all night again, did you?” Graham nodded, his fingers gently brushing through my hair. “Yeah… so, I need my baby to sleep in with me for a bit.” Once I finished my medicine, I curled up in his warm embrace, gazing up at his serene face. Suddenly, memories of high school flooded my mind. I would pretend not to notice as I looked back at the boy napping in a sunbeam by the window. Time seemed to stop as I watched him drift into a peaceful sleep. When I saw that he was completely out, I quietly slipped out of bed. As I passed by the nightstand, I glanced at his phone. The screen lit up automatically. A flood of notifications popped up. I didn’t normally check Graham’s phone, but I couldn’t help but glance at it. I saw a profile picture of someone with golden hair, followed by “99+” messages. Was something urgent happening? The thought barely crossed my mind before I turned my attention away. I didn’t wake Graham up. Instead, I went to the closet to tidy his clothes and take them to the laundry room. Just as I was about to throw his underwear into the machine, a single strand of golden, slightly curly hair caught my eye. I froze. It was the same color as the hair in the profile picture from his phone. It was her. A sixth sense kicked in, and I immediately knew. I dropped the underwear into the machine and felt my heart pound in my chest. Maybe… maybe it was just another misunderstanding, like last night. I tried to convince myself, but my thoughts raced. At that moment, Graham’s phone rang from the bedroom. When he finished the call, I steadied my breath and walked in. “Didn’t you say you’d be home today? More work?” Graham mumbled an answer, saying there was an urgent matter, and rushed out. Once he left, I immediately pulled out the packages from last night and searched for the contact number on the shipping label. I entered it into WhatsApp and hit search. A familiar profile page popped up. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the golden-haired profile picture. I felt like I was falling into an abyss.

A message popped up on WhatsApp. It was from Graham, asking me to wait for him to come home for dinner. The chat history was filled with his usual loving messages, all full of concern. But the more I read, the tighter my chest felt. I wanted to confront him right then and there, to demand who this woman was. But just before I sent the message, I deleted it. It was just a profile picture. If something were really going on, Graham would never admit it. I sat there, staring at the screen, unable to think clearly. After a moment, I dug up an old WhatsApp account I hadn’t used in a while. I changed the name and profile picture to that of a well-known yoga studio. Then I sent a friend request to the number. To my surprise, the request was accepted almost immediately. I pretended to be friendly, following the typical script I’d use to promote the studio. But she quickly sent a blunt message. Marina: [Do you offer one-on-one prenatal yoga classes?] I froze. Prenatal? She… was pregnant? I stayed silent for a moment and then replied. Felicity: [Are you expecting? We have a new parent-child yoga class that’s perfect for you!] I continued, steering the conversation toward the baby’s father. Felicity: [This class is great for dads to bond with their baby and understand the challenges of pregnancy. If you’re interested, give me the contact details of the father, and I’ll set up a trial session for you.] Moments later, a familiar name popped up. It was Graham. The same man who told me every day that he loved me. I felt the warmth of the evening sun on my skin, but a cold shiver ran through me. The truth hit me like a slap in the face. I couldn’t believe it. Graham, the man who had sworn to love me forever, had already betrayed me. He had betrayed our marriage. And worse, he was having a baby with someone else. While I, the fool, had been kept in the dark. Tears fell down my cheeks before I even realized it. I shakily typed the final message. Felicity: [Got it, but may I ask what your name is?] Marina: [Marina Vale.] The name struck me like a lightning bolt. I suddenly remembered the cufflinks that had appeared on Graham’s shirt months ago, engraved with the letters “M” and “V”. Everything had been happening far earlier than I realized. I cried as I called my best friend, Isabelle Quinn. “Damn! Graham, that perfect guy, is doing this behind your back? Felicity, you need to check the security footage at home! I bet that bastard brings his mistress over when you’re not around. With all the time you were in the hospital, they’ve probably had their fun in your own house!” I sobbed, “Even if they have, he must have deleted it…” “Maybe he didn’t! Check it! When you find it, I’ll make sure the whole world knows what he’s been up to!” Listening to her curse him out, I opened the security app. I scrubbed back, stopping at the time when Graham left that afternoon. Watching him stand in the doorway, talking on the phone, it finally hit me. Even this afternoon, when he said he had an urgent matter, he had been lying. I turned up the volume and heard his muffled voice. “Thanks for yesterday, bro. “Marina? I left her at that house. That pathetic woman still dares to provoke Felicity? She thinks she’s being clever, but I see through her little tricks. “She’s pregnant, but I’ll just get rid of the baby in a couple of days. “Who cares? That’s just some meat in her belly, not a real child. The only kid I care about is the one Felicity will have.” The conversation continued, with Graham remaining silent for a long time before speaking again. “Felicity’s been hurt for almost a year now. I’m a man.” “Of course, I love only Felicity… Once things settle, I’ll cut her off.” “Felicity will never find out.”

Thinking about how he’d just told me he’d be home for dinner made me feel nauseous. I quickly texted him, telling him that Isabelle had invited me to spend the night at her place. Graham, concerned about my health, insisted on picking me up. I refused flatly. At least not tonight. I didn’t want to see his face. The phone rang, and Graham’s voice came through, tinged with urgency. “Why all of a sudden? Your wounds aren’t healed yet. What if you bump into something while you sleep? Please, just promise me you’ll call me once you’re done with Isabelle. Even if it’s three or four in the morning, I’ll come get you.” “Isabelle’s careful. She’ll never hurt me.” Graham clicked his tongue, his tone shifting slightly as if pouting. “Really? You’re going to spend the whole night without seeing me?” His voice was the same as usual, but it made my chest tighten. I choked back the tears, offering a few brief words before hanging up. When I got to Isabelle’s, she immediately noticed my red, swollen eyes. “Don’t cry, sweetie. If you cry now, it’s just going to make things worse. Wait here. I’ll find that bitch’s social media and expose her!” Isabelle snatched my phone, already diving into the sparse updates of the other woman’s Instagram. “Felicity, Graham must’ve forced her not to post anything on Instagram. What a paranoid jerk. Does he think just because you don’t know about her, he can pretend he’s not cheating?” I stayed silent, letting her enthusiasm carry on. But I couldn’t shake the disgusting phone call from earlier. Hours later, Isabelle gasped. “I found it!” She grabbed me, speaking quickly. “The domestic social media is a no-go. Graham probably banned her from posting. But I found her international account!” She shoved the phone into my hands. “Be prepared for this.” I smiled bitterly, unlocking the phone. The first thing that appeared was a picture of the woman leaning against Graham. Her hair was dyed blonde, the tips brushing against his shoulder. Her pale fingers lightly caressed his jaw, her voice soft and sticky. “My lingerie’s all used up. Can you buy me some more?” Graham’s expression was cold as he turned his head away. “Didn’t I just send you 100 thousand dollars? Go buy your own.” “I don’t want to… What’s the point of wearing lingerie I bought myself?” She leaned in closer, her hair falling over his shoulder. “I only wear the ones you buy me.” The screen went black. Amid the sounds of passion, she murmured, “Can you come see me and baby more often? Please?” Graham’s voice was low and hoarse. “Yeah.” I swiped my finger, exiting the video. But there was an attached image. A full purchase record of 68 pieces of lingerie. Marina: [He says no, but he bought all these.] Isabelle had already had enough and cursed aloud, not holding back. She was almost ready to drag me straight to Graham’s office. But I had no more anger left to give. “I remember a new maternity care center opened near my place, right?” Isabelle didn’t catch on. I looked up, meeting her eyes, my tone calm yet pointed. “You think Marina would agree to a prenatal experience if I send her there?” Isabelle paused. Then, I smiled and let out a quiet laugh.   Using the collaboration between the yoga studio and the maternity care center as an excuse, I seamlessly arranged the prenatal experience for Marina. I even kindly booked her an appointment. Once that was done, I sought out a renowned divorce lawyer. I had the divorce papers drawn up. On Saturday, Isabelle gripped my hand tightly. “Felicity, don’t worry. No matter what happens, I’ll be with you.” I forced a smile. I touched her hand, feeling the coldness. When we arrived at the maternity care center, I went straight into the room they’d booked. Soon, I heard Marina’s voice from outside, clear and distinct. “Graham, you promised to be with me today. This is your first child! Even if you don’t want it, you should at least meet it and say goodbye, right?” Maybe persuaded by her words, he quickly shut the door. The doctor dutifully began the fetal heart monitoring. As soon as the heartbeat appeared, a strong pulse filled the room through the speakers. Through the crack in the curtain, I could see Graham’s face soften. He didn’t speak but silently extended his hand, gently placing it on Marina’s exposed belly as if cherishing the moment. Seeing it with my own eyes, I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. Only sorrow. “The baby’s healthy,” the doctor complimented with a smile. “He’s probably excited to feel his dad. The heart rate’s a little higher now!” Even Graham smiled slightly at this. Marina immediately reached for his hand, placing it on her belly, softly teasing, “Is he excited already? When he’s born, will he be attached to his daddy all the time?” I lowered my gaze, unable to watch any longer. Soon, the doctor brought in the 4D ultrasound machine. When the clear image appeared on the screen, Marina gasped, “Look! The baby got your nose!” At that moment, Graham couldn’t hold back any longer. His eyes fixed on the screen, and he began imagining the child’s future, already lost in thought. “The baby’s greeting you!” Marina lifted Graham’s hand, pressing it against her belly. They shared a silent moment with the baby in the ultrasound as if exchanging a high five. I heard Graham laugh softly, his voice low, “Already such a little tease, just like you.” The next second, he bent down and gently kissed Marina’s belly, now coated with the ultrasound gel. “Come on, baby. Hurry up and be born… Daddy’s waiting to meet you…” Marina smiled softly and gave him a kiss in return. But just as the moment passed, the curtain was suddenly yanked open with a loud rustle. Isabelle, trembling, stood there, her eyes red with rage. I stood motionless, coldly watching the two of them in an embrace. My fingers were buried deep in my palms, unfeeling from the pressure. Only pain. How ridiculous. The man who had sworn he’d never father an illegitimate child had already completely changed his mind so quickly. Was this how easily he’d made the decision the first time he cheated? When Graham saw me, his body stiffened. He immediately pushed Marina away. “Felicity, I’m not…” After everything, he still had the nerve to deny it. I stepped forward and slapped him across the face. “Don’t use your dirty lips to call my name. Don’t you feel disgusted?”   “Felicity, please don’t be angry…” I didn’t want to hear another word of his hollow apologies. I turned away and met Marina’s gaze instead. She wore a look of false vulnerability, but her eyes gleamed with nothing but provocation. Her hand deliberately rested on her now-prominent belly. I narrowed my eyes and smiled bitterly. “Marina, are you proud of carrying a bastard child you can’t even show off?” Marina’s brow furrowed, and her eyes reddened slightly, but before she could say anything, Graham stepped protectively in front of her. “Felicity, why are you picking on her? She’s pregnant. Whatever, this whole mess is my fault. I should’ve been more careful to avoid this whole situation.” I felt my stomach churn at the insincerity on his face. “Your fault?” I scoffed, mocking him, “How could it be your fault? It’s me. I’m the one who messed up your perfect family reunion!” Graham’s face darkened, and he stepped forward, his voice sharp. “What are you implying?” Before I could answer, Isabelle stormed forward, slamming the divorce papers into Graham’s face. “How dare you ask that? Of course, she wants a divorce from you, you bastard!” Graham shoved Isabelle out of the way and stomped on the divorce papers beneath his feet, grabbing my wrist with a vice-like grip. “You want a divorce? Felicity, this isn’t funny. You know how much I love you. How could you throw it all away so easily? If it’s just because of Marina, I can handle it. I told you, this is all just an accident. I…” I yanked my arm free, my gaze hardening. “No. This isn’t an accident. I had the divorce papers ready before I even came here. I wanted to divorce you to your face!” Hearing that, Graham got more angry. He took a few steps forward, both hands gripping my shoulders tightly. “Felicity, are you being serious? You know I love you, and only you. You…” His hands tightened unconsciously, and I cried out in pain. Isabelle rushed forward and pulled Graham off me, shouting furiously, “Dammit, you’re the one who cheated! Now you want to hurt her physically, too?” As they struggled, the room descended into chaos. Somehow, Marina, still lying on the examination table, had joined in, her voice dripping with feigned pity. “Graham, calm down… Felicity’s just saying things out of anger. She doesn’t mean it… She wouldn’t really be desperate to marry her lover this soon…” Isabelle’s temper flared. She spun around, grabbed Marina by the collar, and slapped her hard. “You slut! You’re trying to stir up trouble, aren’t you? I’ll give you what you want! You shamelessly seduced a man, and now you’re here slandering my sister? Do you really think everyone’s as dirty as you are? I’d rather wash my hands than touch you!” The slap rang through the room, and Marina staggered back, blood trickling from her split lip. But then, to my surprise, she lurched forward, clutching the edge of the examination table. Her scream was sudden and piercing. “Graham… my stomach… it hurts so badly!” For a moment, Graham froze. Ignoring me completely, despite the wall of glass between us, he shoved me aside and kicked Isabelle out of his way, rushing to shield Marina. Isabelle, out of control, crashed into me, knocking me into the glass decorations on the wall. I fell to the ground, shards of glass embedding into my skin, the sharp pain shooting through my body. Blood trickled down from my temple. I lifted my head, and through the mirror opposite, I saw myself covered in blood and surrounded by broken pieces. Graham stood frozen in the chaos, his voice trembling. “Felicity…”

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My doctor friend, Cora Reed, said she was absolutely certain I was carrying twins. I was overjoyed. But who would have thought that a car accident would take both my husband and the babies in my womb? Having grown up as an orphan, I suddenly became utterly alone in the world. Devastated by grief, Cora took me to her home to recover and heal. Just a few days later, Cora shared some incredible news. She was pregnant. Cora had always been diagnosed as infertile. She and her husband, Clark Reed, had been trying for nearly ten years without any success. For her to get pregnant now felt like a miracle from the heavens. I was consumed with both sorrow and happiness for her. When her children were born, I found their features bore an uncanny resemblance to me and my late husband.   A car accident destroyed the little family I had been eagerly looking forward to. While lying in the emergency room, I thought countless times about why I didn’t die along with them. But Cora told me, “Daisy, as long as you’re alive, there’s always hope.” She was a doctor and fought hard to pull me back from the brink of death. Without any complaints, she took me into her own home to help me recover physically and mentally. Cora was also married. Her only regret was that, after nearly ten years of marriage and countless attempts, she and her husband were never able to have children. Sometimes, her husband said they should just give up. He joked that living a life with just the two of them wasn’t so bad either. But Cora never gave up. Having a child had become her obsession. When I was pregnant, I could see envy and longing in her eyes. “Daisy, do you think life is unfair? Those who don’t want children get pregnant easily, while those who desperately want one can never have one, no matter how hard they try.” As she said this, her eyes were fixed intently on my belly, and her expression felt unfamiliar to me. I didn’t know what to say to comfort her. And now… Because of the car accident, I was no longer able to have children. After moving to Cora’s house, she and her husband were extremely kind and attentive to me. They were afraid that I might break down emotionally and do something drastic. Their care moved me deeply. At night, I lay in the guest room. The moment I closed my eyes, the scenes of the car accident would replay automatically in my mind. I couldn’t fall asleep at all. That was when there was a knock at the door. The door creaked open. Cora walked in, holding a bowl of dark, murky soup. She placed it in front of me. “I figured you might still be awake.” She didn’t turn on the light. Guided only by the moonlight streaming through the window, she carefully brought the spoon to my lips. “Here, I made this calming soup just for you. Drink it, and you won’t have trouble sleeping anymore.” The smell of the soup was unpleasant and somewhat pungent. There was a strange, meaty aroma that rushed straight into my nostrils. “Why aren’t you drinking?” In the dim light, Cora’s voice was filled with concern and worry as she moved the spoon closer to my lips. I felt ashamed of my hesitation and guilty for doubting her. Summoning my courage, I took a sip of the soup. Then I took the bowl from her hands and gulped it all down in one go. “All done?” Seeing that I drank every drop, Cora smiled sincerely. “Mm,” I replied, choking back my emotions. “Cora, I really can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me during this time. Without you, I don’t know if I’d even be here right now.”

The calming soup was truly effective. Shortly after Cora left, I actually began to feel drowsy and soon fell into a deep sleep. Even my dreams were wonderfully beautiful. In the dream, my children were born. My husband, our children, and I formed a happy and complete family. But I kept feeling uneasy, as though something was off. Although the kids called me “Mom”, their eyes seemed to be looking through me at someone else. And though my husband acted affectionately with me, he seemed to think of another person… The next day, Cora asked me how I slept the night before. I forced a smile and replied, “Pretty well. Thanks to that soup, I slept straight through till morning.” Cora nodded and felt happy for me. “That’s great. If it works, I’ll keep making it for you every day,” she said. Over the next few days, I drank the soup every night and had the exact same dream. I never woke up in the middle of the night, and when I opened my eyes, it was already morning. During the weekdays, both Cora and her husband went to work, leaving me alone at home most of the time. One afternoon, Clark called me unexpectedly. On the phone, he sounded anxious. “Daisy, could I ask you for a favor? I left an important document at home, but I’m stuck in a meeting and can’t leave. Could you help bring it to me?” This was my first time entering Cora’s bedroom to look for the document. The moment I opened the door, I caught a faint, milky fragrance in the air. I searched the bedside table but couldn’t find the document. Clark urged me over the phone to look more carefully, to check every possible spot, insisting that it must be somewhere in the room. Not wanting to disappoint him, I opened the wardrobe. A strong wave of that milky fragrance hit me as soon as I did. A few clothes fell to the floor, and as I picked them up, I thought I must be seeing things. They were baby clothes, newborn-sized, freshly washed and dried, still carrying the scent of detergent. Looking closer inside the wardrobe, I noticed an entire section stuffed with similar baby clothes. What was more, the outfits came in matching pairs of colors and styles. When I was pregnant, I had been expecting twins, so I knew very well that for twins, everything usually had to be prepared in duplicate. But Cora had been infertile for ten years. Why would she have so many baby clothes prepared? Could they have been meant for my children? My thoughts were a jumbled mess. Looking at the clothes, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. Then, it hit me. During my pregnancy, I followed a lot of baby stores on my shopping apps. I often browsed their new arrivals. Even after the car accident, I never unfollowed those stores and would still scroll through their updates occasionally. The baby clothes in Cora’s wardrobe were clearly from those stores’ recent collections. Some of the designs had only been released after my car accident!

That night, when Cora came home, I had prepared a full table of dishes. While Clark was in the shower, I asked her, “Cora, is there something you’re hiding from me?” Her movements as she cleared the dishes paused for a moment. She quickly looked up at me and said, “What could I possibly be hiding? We’re best friends. I wouldn’t keep anything from you.” Seeing her play dumb and avoid the question, I stopped beating around the bush and got straight to the point. “Of course, it’s good news! Tell me, are you pregnant?” I half-joked and seriously asked, feeling conflicted inside. Losing my own two children had left me in unbearable pain. But the idea that Cora might be pregnant still made me genuinely happy for her. To my surprise, the stack of bowls Cora had been holding fell to the ground, shattering into pieces. “Are you okay?” I asked. I hadn’t expected her reaction to be so extreme, and I immediately crouched down to clean up the mess. “Hiss…” I accidentally cut my finger on a sharp shard of porcelain. Blood quickly beaded at the tip of my finger, dripping onto the floor. Without hesitation, I put my finger in my mouth to suck the wound and then continued cleaning up. After we finished tidying the dining area, Cora sat on the sofa, taking deep breaths before cautiously asking me, “Why would you think that?” Her reaction made me feel uneasy. “Well, isn’t it obvious? Your wardrobe is full of baby clothes, and all new ones. I just thought…” Before I could finish, Cora suddenly shouted at me, “Daisy! You went into my bedroom? Who gave you permission?” I froze for a few seconds. Just as I was about to explain, Clark came out of the bathroom after overhearing the commotion. “I gave her permission,” he said. “You?” Cora looked at me and then at him, suspicion flashing across her face. Worried she might misunderstand, I quickly explained what had happened that afternoon and apologized. “It was my fault. Please don’t be mad at me.” But Cora wasn’t appeased. She continued to ask, “Then what else did you look through while you were in my room?” I was completely baffled. “Nothing! The document was in the wardrobe drawer. I grabbed it and left. I didn’t touch anything else.” To be honest, her reaction was far beyond anything I had expected. We had grown up sharing the same bed and borrowing each other’s clothes. Even as adults, we were incredibly close. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have accepted her invitation to stay at her home without a second thought. Now that I thought about it, maybe even the best of friendships could strain under constant proximity. Cora seemed to let out a sigh of relief. She gave Clark a fierce glare and then turned to me with a somewhat apologetic tone. “I lost my temper. Please don’t take it to heart.” Later that night, when Cora brought me my usual calming soup, she finally admitted, “Actually, you were right. I am pregnant. And it’s twins.” “But after what happened, I was afraid it would upset you, so I didn’t dare tell you. I didn’t expect you’d find out anyway…” I forced a smile. “Congratulations, Cora.” After finishing the calming soup, I expected to have the same dream as usual. But instead, my stomach churned violently. I woke up drenched in cold sweat. I went to the bathroom and dry-heaved for a long time before finally settling down. I assumed this was just a physical symptom of my depression. I took out the medication prescribed by my therapist and swallowed a few pills with cold tap water. Slowly, the dizziness subsided. I had been careful to keep my medication well hidden. Cora, who was always busy with work, didn’t know how severe my condition had become. Logically, I knew I should be happy for Cora’s pregnancy. But at that moment, dark and cruel thoughts began to brew inside me. Unable to sleep, I got up and decided to sit in the living room for a while. That was when I heard a strange squeaking sound like mice. I hesitated for a few seconds. Cora’s bedroom door was slightly ajar. Worried that turning on the lights might wake them, I decided to use my phone’s flashlight instead. I followed the sound down the hallway toward the living room. The squeaking grew louder and clearer. Finally, at the corner where the living room met the dining area, I found the source of the noise. It was a nest of mice!   In the dim light, the mice huddled together, squirming and scurrying, which made my scalp tingle. When my flashlight beam hit them, the mice scattered in all directions and disappeared into the darkness. Looking closer, I saw that the mice had been drawn to the corner because of two clay jars. Both jars were tightly sealed with stoppers, so I couldn’t open them right away. Instead, I leaned in to sniff. “Ugh…” A pungent stench, reeking of blood and rotting meat, assaulted my senses. I couldn’t hold back and started dry-heaving again. It took me several minutes to recover. Once my mind cleared, I couldn’t help but think of the calming soup Cora brewed for me every night. A wave of shock and suspicion surged through me. I immediately went to the kitchen to check the pots and utensils. Eventually, I found a faint, lingering smell in a small saucepan. Although the scent was faint, it was unmistakably similar to the soup I drank every night. So, what exactly was in those clay jars? I made up my mind to remove the stoppers and take a look. But just as I reached for the jars, I heard another noise. Holding my breath, I realized the sound was coming from Cora’s room. “Be careful. Don’t wake her up…” As I approached their door, I heard the unmistakable sounds of intimacy, soft, ambiguous noises. Feeling awkward, I turned to tiptoe back to my room. But then I remembered something that made my feet feel heavy, unable to move. Hadn’t Clark left earlier, saying he had urgent business at work and would probably be out all night? Why was he back now? My mind was in a fog. The muffled sounds of their lovemaking continued, but throughout, only Cora’s voice could be heard. The man didn’t make a single sound. When I returned to my room, I expected to lie awake until morning. But my mind grew hazy, and I somehow fell asleep again. This time, I had another dream, just like the beautiful ones I’d been having before. But suddenly, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. In the dream, my two children’s faces were distorted. Their bodies became bloody and mangled as they wailed, their cries piercing and heart-wrenching, “Mommy, why did you eat us?” Their adorable faces melted away, leaving behind two grotesque lumps of bloody flesh. They lunged straight at me. “No!” I screamed, stumbling backward and gasping for air as I woke up. My entire body was drenched in sweat, chilled to the bone.   Today was a weekday, and the house was eerily quiet. Without realizing it, I found myself back at the corner where I had discovered the jars the previous night, but the space was now empty. The two clay jars were gone. Could it have all been a hallucination caused by my depression? I thought it over and decided to try opening Cora’s bedroom door again. To my surprise, it was locked this time, which was unusual for her. This only deepened my unease. Suddenly, a sharp and urgent knock on the front door startled me. Peeking through the peephole, I saw a young woman standing outside. She looked very youthful, perhaps a college student. Anyway, she was someone I had never seen before. I asked, “Excuse me, who are you…?” I hesitated and cracked the door open slightly. She froze for a moment when she saw me. “Oh, step aside. I’ve got something urgent!” Without waiting for my permission, she pushed me aside, barged in, and rushed straight into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly. It took me a while to react, and I quickly knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey! Who are you? You know trespassing is against the law!” After the sound of the toilet flushing, the bathroom door opened. The young woman seemed much calmer now that she had relieved herself. She introduced herself. “I’m Stary. I’m Clark’s distant cousin. I got into a university here and decided to stay at his place for a few days before the semester starts.” Clark was Cora’s husband, but I had never heard Cora mention this before. Seeing me remain silent, Stary smiled brightly and explained, “This was a last-minute decision. I only let Clark know, and he agreed, but I guess he hasn’t had time to discuss it with Cora yet.” “And you…” She looked at me with curiosity. I briefly explained my situation. “Clark told me over the phone that there’s an empty room here for me to stay in,” she said. I initially suggested that she share my room, but she refused. She walked over to the door at the far end of the hallway, trying to turn the doorknob, only to find it wouldn’t budge. “That’s the storage room. It’s always been kept locked by Cora,” I told her. But Stary was undeterred. She rummaged through the drawers in the living room and came back holding a set of spare keys. “Clark told me where to find these.” While speaking, she unlocked the door with the key. Seeing that, I didn’t stop her anymore. As the door opened slightly, I peered through the gap, and what I saw made my breath catch in my throat!

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“I do.” When the officiant asked if I would marry Walter, I didn’t hesitate. I had loved him for ten years and longed for this moment. “Mr. Walter Harris, do you take…” “Ah! The bridesmaid fainted!” Suddenly, the bridesmaid next to me collapsed! The crowd erupted in chaos. Before I could react, my new husband swiftly rushed over, caught her slender waist, preventing her from falling. My heart ached. “Isabella! Isabella! Wake up!” he shouted. The bridesmaid, Isabella, is also my half-sister. Her face was pale, showing no signs of waking up. The conversation from this morning in the dressing room flashed in my mind. Wearing her bridesmaid dress, Isabella looked at me with disdain. “Is being a mistress genetic? Your mom stole my dad from my mom, and now you’re stealing my Walter? Ha, you two are just the same.” I retorted, “Walter doesn’t love you! It’s not stealing!” She sneered. “Stella, do you really think he loves you? He’s marrying you because you took a bullet for him. Otherwise, the Harris family would never let him marry an illegitimate child.” Her voice was like a chilling ghost from hell, making me shiver uncontrollably. Finally, she said, “If I faint, he’ll choose me for sure. Want to bet on it?” Walter picked up Isabella, ready to leave. I grabbed his arm, pleading, “It’s just low blood sugar. Do you really have to leave me on our wedding day?” “Stella, don’t be like this. Isabella’s health is fragile. I won’t feel right if I don’t take her to the hospital.” He frowned, his once-familiar face now looking strange to me. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Just then, my parents rushed to the stage. My mom, Helen Russell, hurriedly said, “Walter, quick! Take Isabella to the hospital! Don’t just stand there!” I cried out, “Mom! It’s my wedding day! How can you let Walter take another woman to the hospital in the middle of our vows?” Helen angrily scolded me, “Isabella is your sister! She’s not well. What if something happens to her?” She glanced at my dad, Laurence Reed. He turned to me and said, “You can finish the ceremony when Walter gets back.” With that, the three of them left with Isabella, leaving me standing alone and defeated. I should’ve been used to this by now. For my first dance recital, my parents promised to come watch. But when Isabella suddenly twisted her ankle, they took her to the hospital instead. They only showed up after everyone else had left. Parent-teacher conferences, graduation ceremonies – whenever I wanted them there, Isabella always found a way to steal all the attention. Helen used to be Laurence’s mistress. She was so desperate to be seen as a good stepmom and wash away her past sins that she bent over backwards for Isabella, even more than for me, her own daughter.   The guests whispered among themselves. “Of course the only legitimate granddaughter of the Reed family is more precious. A bastard girl will never be valued, no matter what.” Isabella was the Reed family’s only recognized daughter, and the Reeds were incredibly wealthy. I went to the bathroom and cried for a while. Looking at my puffy eyes in the mirror, I couldn’t fool myself anymore. Even Walter, the only one who might love me, probably truly loves Isabella. Before middle school, Helen raised me alone. Laurence would visit occasionally, like a king visiting his harem. When Laurence came, Helen would send me out to play. They were having an affair. I overheard their conversations; they were waiting for Isabella’s mom to die. Or rather, they were hoping for her mom to die. Eventually, Isabella’s mom passed away, and Laurence brought Helen and me back. Isabella was difficult to get along with, but the adults had no idea. In front of others, she’d hold my hand affectionately and call me her sister. She’d even protect me from hot soup spills. But in private, she’d pinch me and burn me with cigarettes. If I dared to resist, she’d get some thugs to trouble me. She was two years older than me. At school, classmates knew Helen was a mistress, so they avoided me and even isolated me. She often tore up my homework. The teachers thought I was a bad student and treated me poorly. I understood her anger was justified, so I endured it. Besides, I also felt Helen was in the wrong. Kids who see wrongdoing often think they deserve the punishment. Walter lived nearby and often came over to play. He was handsome, wore white shirts, was gentle, and took care of people. Unlike others, he didn’t avoid me. I really liked him. On my birthday, he gave me a puppy. I was overjoyed and named it Benny. Isabella was very unhappy. When our parents went on a trip, she grabbed scissors and threatened to cut my hair. She said, “You’re just a slut, just like your mom. The way to punish a slut is to ruin their fake appearance!” I was terrified. I shoved her away, grabbed Benny, and ran. Later, the nanny found me. Isabella didn’t say a word. Not long after, some thugs dragged me into an empty alley. They spat on me, messed up my hair, and tore my clothes to shreds… I couldn’t take it anymore. I called the police. When my parents arrived, Helen saw my state and, instead of comforting me, slapped me across the face! I held my face, staring at her in disbelief as tears streamed down. She yelled, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to! Hanging out with those thugs, neglecting your studies, and now you blame Isabella when you get bullied!” Isabella stood nearby, tears in her eyes, pleading with Helen not to hit me. She said I was young and didn’t know any better. Laurence looked at me with disappointment. “You’re so scheming at such a young age! I brought you home, and Isabella welcomed you without complaint. Yet, you constantly go against her! You’ve really let me down!” Not long after, I found Benny dead in my bathtub. That day, Walter and his parents were visiting. The maid’s scream brought everyone running. Benny’s limbs and head were brutally severed and thrown into the water-filled tub. His remains floated around, turning the water a gruesome red. I looked up at Isabella in shock. A flash of mockery and challenge crossed her eyes before she screamed and fainted into Helen’s arms. Walter turned pale, staring at me in disbelief. Laurence, furious, slapped me. It was the first time he ever hit me. The blood in my mouth was nothing compared to the pain from hitting my head on the sink. Blood streamed down, and I felt dizzy. No one came to help me for a long time. In the end, it was Walter who carried me to the hospital. His determined face swayed in and out of my vision. Tears kept streaming down my face. Nothing I said mattered. If Isabella wanted to frame me, no one could find a flaw. She was meticulous and sharp, never leaving any evidence. Even after hitting me, she’d check if I had a recorder or phone on me. She always maintained the image of a noble lady—gentle, kind, and frail. And I had become the rebellious troublemaker. No one believed me. Even my mom didn’t believe me; she chose to trust her stepdaughter. When I was hospitalized, no one visited me. Walter paid the medical bills and sat silently by my bed. Finally, he said, “If you don’t like me or the dog I gave you, you could’ve just told me instead of hurting an innocent animal.” Then he left, going abroad with Isabella. My parents sent me to boarding school. I was in eighth grade then. They didn’t want to see me. I started having sleepless nights, and when I did sleep, I’d dream of Benny being cut up… In my dreams, Benny whimpered, calling out to me… Even though Isabella left my life, her impact didn’t fade. I was still isolated and bullied. The bathroom doors always had “Slut Stella, Screw her” written on them. Whenever something went missing, everyone would first suspect me of being the thief. Anyone could bump into me, spit on me, insult me, or slap me. Doing so made them feel morally superior, noble, and righteous. The less I was loved, the more I spiraled, unable to focus in class, constantly zoning out. And so, the vicious cycle continued. In my third year of middle school, I was in a constant daze every day. One afternoon after school, I saw Isabella waiting for me at the classroom door. I numbly ignored her. She grabbed me, tears welling up in her eyes, and said with a pained expression, “Stella, what happened to you?” She turned to the person next to her and said, “Walter, my sister…” She choked up and leaned against Walter. I slowly lifted my eyes. He had grown so tall that I had to look up at him. His eyes were fixed on me, filled with disbelief and sorrow. My long-dead sense of shame slowly came back to life. What had I become? I hadn’t bathed or changed clothes in at least two weeks, looking worse than a beggar! Suddenly, I remembered my classmates calling me crazy, saying I’d been assaulted by some thugs outside school, which drove me insane… I never wanted to see them again. I ran back to the dorm like I was escaping, hid under my smelly blanket, and my tears soaked my filthy hair.

The next day was the weekend. I hadn’t been home in a long time. Helen was living her dream life as a wealthy wife. She didn’t want to see her disappointing daughter, and besides… she had another son now… I was alone in the dorm, and I liked it that way. I wanted to take a shower, but I just couldn’t muster the energy. It felt pointless. There are stray cats at school, always meowing. Their cries were driving me crazy. I had no choice but to grab a meal at the cafeteria, then head to the abandoned garden to find the cat and feed it. The sun was shining brightly. The stray cat was all black, so I named it Luna. I could only sneak over to feed it. I was afraid if others found out, they might harm it. I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there until someone blocked the sunlight. I didn’t bother to look up. Even if they spat or peed on me, I didn’t care. I just wanted to bask in the sun. I slowly moved my body away. The shadow persisted, still blocking my sunlight. With my head down like an old lady, I slowly stood up, intending to leave. That person grabbed my arm. I started trembling uncontrollably. Then I was pulled into a firm yet warm embrace. It was Walter. He still had a bit of that youthful affection left in his heart. He was like a ray of light, breaking through the dark clouds, illuminating my darkness. He took me to a beauty salon, had the staff give me a bath, bought me clean, pretty clothes, and then took me out to eat. As I numbly ate, I wondered what he wanted. After a long time, when I started worrying about the dorm closing, he finally said, “Stay at a hotel tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to see a doctor.” When he grabbed my hand, I tried to pull away. He was really strong. At night, he tucked me into bed. He asked, “How did you end up like this?” I stayed silent. He sighed, his eyes a bit red, and asked, “Has anyone… hurt you?” He meant if I had been assaulted. I traced the patterns on the white sheets. I couldn’t sleep, just kept my eyes open. He slept in another bed. When he realized I couldn’t sleep, he hugged me through the blanket. I looked at him. I wasn’t really scared of him; I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. But he thought I was scared and softly said, “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. Close your eyes. Tomorrow we’ll go to the hospital, and everything will get better.” He had a faint, cool vanilla scent. It was comforting, and I felt at ease. I finally got a good night’s sleep. The next day, he took me to a hospital for a blood test, then to a psychiatric clinic. The tests took a long time, and the doctor prescribed some medication. He told me to come back every week. No one knew he came to see me. He bought me a phone. He even quickly helped me transfer schools. My old teachers were eager to see me go, worried I’d drag down the class’s average. I moved from a public school to a private one. My new homeroom teacher is Walter’s aunt. She’s really kind, speaks softly, and even pats my head and holds my hand. I have a new school, new teachers, and new classmates. In just two days, my life changed completely. I brought Luna to my new school. He patted my head and then took me to buy lots of cat food. He soon went abroad again but still texts me from time to time. With the doctor’s help and medication, I started feeling less down. During winter break, I stayed at school and didn’t go home. Walter came to see me and started tutoring me. I said, “I want to get into the best high school in the city.” His pale, slender fingers paused on the scratch paper. He looked up at me, eyes full of surprise. At that moment, I believed he cared about me. I thought this because he was the only one who wanted the best for me. He left again soon after. Not long after, I received a stack of study materials, all filled with his strong handwriting. On the first page of each notebook, he wrote, “When you get into the best high school, I’ll come see you.” In six months, I improved my grades and got into Sunhaven’s best high school, ranking third in the city. True to his word, he took a long flight to see me off to school. He told my new roommates that I was his sister. I asked them to look after me and brought a small gift for each of them. After setting up the dorm, he took me out for a meal and asked with a smile, “So, which university are you aiming for? I believe you can achieve anything you set your mind to.” I want to be with him. He was already in his third year and would soon return home to work. I said, “I want to apply to Sunhaven University.” Actually, I wanted to leave Sunhaven. But I thought, as long as I didn’t go back home, it was fine. After all, he would return. In my sophomore year, Isabella graduated and returned home. Her family wanted to arrange a marriage between her and him. It felt like a bucket of cold water was poured over me. Isabella came to see me, smiling, and said, “Do you think Walter helped you transfer schools and took you to see a psychiatrist because he likes you? Dream on! I told him to do it! So, have you fallen for him? Do you see him as your prince? Without me, he wouldn’t even look at you! Are you in pain now? Watching the one you like marry me! Hahaha!” Seeing my expression, she left satisfied. I rarely went home. The day both families sat down to discuss their marriage, my parents called me back. He didn’t look well, with dark circles under his eyes. His gaze was cold, even… even a bit disdainful… My heart felt like it was being stabbed. I threw that phone away. But then I couldn’t sleep, often crying through the night. The doctor advised me not to suppress my feelings too much. He said, “Maybe if you follow your heart, you’ll feel better.” But living by your heart is really hard. They still hadn’t gotten married. I picked up my paintbrush and started painting again. Until one afternoon, near dusk, I suddenly realized I was painting the scene from the day he came to see me in junior high. In the painting, a tall and handsome boy stood in front of the girl, backlit by the sun… I decided to intern at his company. I didn’t plan to do anything, not even talk to him. My life changed when an ex-employee, who went to jail for leaking secrets, came back for revenge with a knife. In the chaos, I instinctively took the blow for Walter… Lying in a pool of blood, shivering and cold, he held me tightly, his eyes red with despair, looking utterly helpless. At that moment, I thought, I’m pretty lucky. Everyone dies eventually, and I get to die in his arms. Guess I was really out of my mind. I didn’t die; they saved me. He broke up with Isabella, still bearing the marks of her slap, and took care of me with great attention. After I was discharged, he moved my stuff to his place and proposed to me. I didn’t ask if he loved me or if he still loved Isabella. I felt like a homeless person who suddenly found a diamond. I didn’t dare ask anything, just wanted to quietly keep it. Helen demanded I break up with him. She angrily scolded me, “When did you start seducing Isabella’s boyfriend?! You’ve disgraced me completely! How long have you two been messing around?!” Laurence gently advised me, “Stella, the biggest regret of my life is Isabella. When you and your mom moved in, she treated you with respect. How could you steal her boyfriend? You can’t be so shameless. Stolen happiness won’t last. Listen to me, break up with Walter, and I’ll introduce you to someone better.” What he said was impossible. My reputation was already ruined. Everyone we associated with knew I abused animals, had an abortion in middle school, and contracted an STD. And all these rumors were spread by Isabella. People who knew us would look at me with disdain and say, “Wow, you really have no shame, even stealing your sister’s boyfriend! Isn’t her mom the one who seduced the employer’s maid? Like mother, like daughter. The mistress gene must be hereditary. So filthy.” I ignored them. Because I wanted to do whatever would make Isabella suffer. I admit, I’m pretty dark. A rat that’s lived in the gutter for years can’t suddenly become cheerful. And… I can’t bear to leave Walter. He’s so good to me, always speaking so gently. The way he looks at me, it’s like I’m the most precious thing in the world, like he wants to hold me in his hands. It’s a feeling of being cherished. We had a sweet time together. He took me to amusement parks, on weekend trips, posed as my model, filled our home with my paintings, openly held my hand at work to take me out for lunch. He’d cuddle with me while watching TV, tease me about my terrible cooking, then clean his plate… But everything changed six months later. Isabella was rushed to the hospital, covered in blood. He became more silent, coming home later and later. We’d have plans for the weekend, but he’d drop everything if Isabella called. He always said, “Stella, Isabella is your sister, and I owe her…” Why does he think that way? Is it to repay me for saving his life, at the cost of her love? I don’t dare to think too deeply about it.

Isabella was frequently in and out of the hospital. Helen finally remembered me and asked me to visit Isabella. Every time I went to Isabella’s room, Walter sat there, exhausted. He never looked at me again. When we were alone, Isabella would say, “Even if you force him to marry you, so what? He loves me. We’ve been together abroad for years. Can you compare? You’re so pathetic, using your life to trap a man!” As long as he didn’t leave, I wouldn’t mention breaking up. Even when I was sick and on an IV, he went to see Isabella. My IV bag was half-filled with blood. Even in the middle of the night, he went to see Isabella. But I never expected he’d go to her on our wedding day. I suddenly felt like I couldn’t take it anymore. At that moment, I felt utterly disheartened. It was just too exhausting. For a bit of sweetness in life, I endured my parents’ scolding, others’ mockery, the lonely times waiting for him, and the endless thoughts of what he might be doing. I just wanted a little bit of happiness. But in the end, it all turned bitter. Walter, the guy who once brought sunshine into my life, now only gave me cold and loneliness. What kind of person am I in his eyes? He took me for blood tests to check for HIV and pregnancy. He took me to a mental hospital because he thought I was crazy. He saw Benny’s tragic death in my bathtub. He must think I’m a cruel animal abuser. How many times did Isabella brainwash him into thinking I’m a bad person? I can’t even imagine. To me, he’s a ray of sunshine. But to him, I’m probably just a downright villain. Yet he still chose to be kind to me. A man was standing in the hallway, smoking. He was Walter’s brother, Noah Harris, the illegitimate son of the Harris family who was always bullied. When he saw me, he stubbed out his cigarette and gave a roguish smile. “Wanna marry me? Let’s piss them off together.” I used to always avoid him. He looked like trouble. Walter told me to stay away from him. “Are you crazy?” I said. He shrugged indifferently and said, “You still want to marry Walter? On the day your water breaks, he’ll probably leave you and the baby to run off with Isabella.” I stared at him in shock. He said, “I saw your test results that day.” I hadn’t told anyone about my pregnancy. He suddenly leaned in, angrily saying, “Why make yourself so lowly? Even if our existence is hidden, even if we’re unwanted, why blame it all on us?” He had been bullied in the Harris family too, living alone outside since childhood, surviving on instant noodles without parental love. “Why?” I murmured, “Why come to me?” “I just want to see them suffer! Walter’s wife marrying his brother will tear off their hypocritical masks! Make them a joke!” he suggested excitedly, “How about it? You can get back at Isabella too. You know who never loses? Those who become memories! As long as you’re in someone’s memory, you never lose!” “Can we just have a fake marriage?” I asked. “Whatever you want. If you want us to be real parents, I can do that too.” He winked mischievously. I said, “Okay.” He pulled me back to the altar, told the officiant about the name change, leaving the officiant stunned and confused. He grabbed the mic and said, “Thank you all for coming to the wedding today, but the groom has changed. It’s me now. Ms. Reed, do you take me to be your husband, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, till death do you part?” The crowd was too shocked to speak. “I do,” I said. Finding happiness is too hard. I was never a match for Isabella. I give up, I forfeit. Laurence is hers. Helen may be a slut, but she’s still hers. I don’t want my husband and kids to be hers too. “Your turn to ask me,” he said. My voice trembled, “Will you marry me?” “I will,” Noah replied. He picked up the ring beside him and put it on my finger. My hands shook as I put his ring on too. He tossed the mic aside and pulled me away. We rushed to get our marriage certificate. Walter called just as I was looking at the certificate. I had imagined this moment countless times, but with a different groom. “Stella, are you crazy?” His voice was like an angry beast. “Where are you now?” “I don’t need you to worry about me!” I choked up. “I don’t need your pity! Go wherever you want, we’re done! I don’t need you anymore!” I hung up and blocked all his contacts. Noah was determined to team up with me. He drove us to the hospital first. “Let’s go piss them off at the hospital. What do you think?” I said, “They won’t be that easily pissed off.” He chuckled but still took me to the hospital. In the hospital room, Isabella was crying, and our parents were comforting her. Walter was on the phone non-stop. When he saw us, he grabbed me. “Stella, are you out of your mind? I was just away for a bit, it’s not like I wasn’t going to marry you! Did you really have to go this far?” He gently said, “Baby, this was my fault. It won’t happen again. I’ve hired a caregiver for Isabella, so you don’t need to worry about her anymore. I’ve also explained everything to your parents.” I pushed his hand away, expressionless. “Please show some respect. I’m already married to your brother.” Laurence came over and tried to slap me. Walter stepped in front of me and took the slap. Noah pulled me behind him. Laurence paused, then angrily shouted, “Look at the mess you’ve made! In front of all our friends and family, you got involved with another illegitimate child! You two have no shame, but we and the Harris family do!” Noah smiled and said, “What are you talking about? Stella and I have been in love for a long time. By the way, we came in a hurry today, so besides our freshly issued marriage certificate, we don’t have any other gifts. But here’s a video for you.” Everyone looked at him suspiciously. His tone was filled with schadenfreude. In the video, Isabella was smiling eerily while torturing a cat to death…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397600”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #B×G

After my husband’s first love came back, I saw his answers to a question on Reddit- “What is it like to marry someone you don’t love?”   He wrote that he didn’t love his wife. Despite her wholehearted dedication and taking good care of the family, he still couldn’t forget about his ex-girlfriend.   He said he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t help it.   Someone commented: You’re not anonymous, aren’t you afraid that your wife will see this post and divorce you?   He replied: No, she can’t live without me.   However, what he didn’t expect was that the next day, I left the divorce agreement on his bedside table and left without a word.   ***   Several days after Eliza Crawford came back from France, I discovered Liam’s answer on a Reddit question.   –What is it like to marry someone you don’t love?   He didn’t post anonymously, and his profile picture was a photo he took together with Eliza.   “It’s like living in stagnant water. Waveless and numb.”   “I don’t love my wife. After breaking up with my first love, my family pressured me to get married quickly. I was disheartened at that time, feeling that if I couldn’t get to marry my love, marrying anyone else would be the same.”   “Coincidentally, my wife has always liked me. We have known each other for a long time and know each other well. So I proposed to her.”   “I still remember that day. She was so happy that she cried and kept asking me if she was dreaming. To be honest, I felt quite guilty. Over the years in our marriage, she has been wholeheartedly devoted to me and taken good care of everything in the family, from the trivial to the important.”   My finger trembled slightly as I continued to scroll down.   He wrote, “But I don’t love her. All these years, I have always been thinking about my first love.”   “I know it’s wrong of me, and I’ve tried to like her! I really did. But I just can’t.”   Someone commented: You’re not anonymous, aren’t you afraid that your wife will see this post and divorce you?”   His tone remained as confident as ever when he wrote:   No, she can’t live without me.   It felt again that long-standing thorn that had been hidden in my heart from the start. It used to pierce me sharply, but now its edges had been smoothed by my wounded flesh and blood, and it no longer hurt me as sharply as it did at first.   But there was still a dull ache, densely woven around my heart. I couldn’t ignore it.   I laughed bitterly.   Look how well he understood me.   Even at this stage, he knew.   I couldn’t live without him.   That night, Liam acted as usual.   We were like any other Darby and Joan in the world. Before going to bed, he complimented me on the delicious dinner I made, as he always did, and then turned away back to his phone.   The king-size bed wasn’t too big for the two of us, but when we slept back to back, there was still a vacant space in between us that couldn’t be crossed, like an abyss.   I suddenly remembered the day he proposed to me.   He thought I was crying tears of joy, but he didn’t know that my heart was full of inconsolable sadness at that time.   He had been with Eliza for a whole seven years, from the age of seventeen to twenty-four. They had the best moments of their lives together, accompanying each other from youth to maturity.   After graduating from college, Eliza wanted to continue her study in France and had already received an offer from her dream school.   But Liam’s father suddenly fell seriously ill, and his family asked him to take over the family business, so he had to stay in the country.   Perhaps long-distance relationships never have good outcomes. At first, they could still hold on to each other, but as the time bring apart grew longer, various problems began to arise. The time difference also reduced the time they could communicate.   In addition, Liam had just taken over the family company at that time and was busy every day. Eliza, who was alone in a foreign country, suddenly realized at some point that he would never be there when she needed him.   The arguments between them became more and more frequent. Finally, after Eliza had been abroad for a year, their conflicts erupted completely into a big fight. Impulsively, Eliza suggested breaking up.   Originally, the situation could have been salvaged, but both of them were always outstanding individuals in the crowd and too proud to back down.   What’s more, Liam’s father had just been buried at that time, and he was in deep grief without the energy to deal with the relationship issue with Eliza on time.   In the end, they drifted apart.   But I knew that he never truly let go of Eliza in his heart.   When he proposed to me, I knew that he didn’t love me.   He was just feeling annoyed by his family and wanted to quickly get married to someone. Coincidentally, I had the best conditions in all aspects, so he randomly chose me.   I understood all of this.   But the most heartbreaking part was that even though I clearly knew all of this, when he proposed to me with that ring he casually bought through his secretary, I couldn’t help but want to accept him.   That day, my tears streamed endlessly like a river. He thought I was crying tears of happiness, but I was just sad.   What made me sad was not that he didn’t love me.   But that I could only love him regardless.

Whether intentional or not, our university classmates organized a reunion right after Eliza returned from France.   It had been three years, and Eliza was even more beautiful than before.   She was wearing a maroon-colored long dress, with her hair flowing down her shoulders like silk, looking casual enough yet elegant nonetheless.   However, from the moment she entered, Liam didn’t even glance at her. He sat closely by my side with a look of consideration, serving me food complaisantly.   He had never cut my steak for me when we were at home. But now, he attentively put the readily cut steak back on my plate, smiling tenderly and saying, “There, you’re all good.”   Eliza across the table froze for a moment, and the smile on her face slowly faded away.   Suddenly, I found it somewhat hilarious.   In this seemingly three-person play, only the two of them were performing passionately, while I was just an undeserving clown, watching from the sidelines.   After three rounds of drinks, a bald male classmate who couldn’t handle his wine very well drunkenly smiled at Eliza and said loudly:   “Ellie, how come you look even more beautiful than before? Do you have a boyfriend now? If not, why not go out with me?”   Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liam froze.   Eliza laughed and said, “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. But I also don’t think we’re a good match.”   “Why not?” the bald guy, feeling rejected, became somewhat angry and spoke without thinking, “Are you still thinking about Liam? What, you want to save yourself for him?”   “He’s already married! Hey, listen, it’s not easy for women over twenty-five to find a partner. Do you think you’re still the beloved little princess or something?”   Eliza’s smile couldn’t hold up any longer, “You’ve had too much to drink.”   Another gawker took out her phone, “Maybe their love for each other was mutual? I saw Liam answer a question on reddit before – ‘What is it like to marry someone you don’t love?’”   “Ellie, this is a photo of you and Liam, right? It’s still on your Instagram!”   As soon as the others realized there was some tea in this, everyone took out their phones to check.   “Where is it? I want to read it too!”   Even Eliza, when she saw that answer, looked at Liam with a complicated expression. Her eyes became slightly moist.   Liam gazed back at her.   I felt a chill down my spine, trembling uncontrollably.   The truth was out in the open in front of everyone’s eyes: the person my husband truly loved was not me, but actually someone else.   In an instant, I felt like a sinner stripped naked and paraded through the streets. Shamed and heartbroken, I wished I could escape immediately.   After a long while, Liam finally spoke up.   His voice sounded normal, but if one listened carefully, one could detect a slight trembling in it:   “It’s all nonsense. I have a good relationship with my wife. Let’s continue our dinner.”   Others nodded and put away their phones, but during the rest of the dinner, I could feel countless glances occasionally falling on the three of us.   Among the gazes directed at me, there was only sympathy and mockery.   This was probably the most difficult meal I had ever had in my life. When it was almost over, Liam said, “I’ll go to the restroom,” and stood up to leave.   Not long after, Eliza also went out.   Many people looked at me intentionally or unintentionally.   I didn’t know what to feel anymore, so I pretended nothing had happened and continued stiffly stuffing food into my mouth like a programmed robot.   After the event ended, all the others left.   I waited for a long time, but Liam never came back, so I had to go back in to find him.   As I passed through the corridor, I suddenly heard Eliza’s voice, filled with a sobbing tone.   I hid in the shadow of a corner and quietly looked over.   I saw Eliza embracing Liam from behind, crying when she said:   “You clearly can’t get over me either!”   Liam frowned, “You read too much into it. I’m already married.”   With tears, Eliza said:   “Then why don’t you dare to look me in the eye right now?”   “How do you explain that reddit article? Liam, you clearly don’t love her!”   She sobbed softly, “I know it’s not right for me to say this but… we got together first.”   “If it wasn’t for her, maybe we would have reconciled long ago… Liam, I came back for you. Can’t we start over? I was immature before to break up with you like that, can’t we give it another try?”   Liam’s body stiffened, his eyes hidden in the shadow cast by his brows, I couldn’t see his expression clearly.   After a long while, he slowly turned around and embraced Eliza tightly.   The two of them passionately kissed each other in this neglected corridor, as if all the suppressed emotions from these years had suddenly burst into flame.   And I stood silently in the corner, letting countless icy blades tear apart my heart.   I didn’t know why. It was them that got spotted cheating, but it was me who ran away like a thief.   I didn’t stop till I was under the dim streetlight outside. Gasping for breath, I absentmindedly touched my face, only to realize that my face was already covered with cold tears.

Liam came back very late that night.   He seemed like he wanted to explain something to me, but he opened his mouth and couldn’t say anything.   I smiled as usual and said, “It’s late. We can talk some other time.”   He breathed a sigh of relief and let go of his furrowed brows. And he didn’t stop me when I went to sleep in the guest room with a blanket.   Later that night, I opened reddit lying alone in the guest room bed.   There were many new comments below Liam’s answer, probably from classmates who had just watched the show of us tonight.   And his statement remained the same:   No, she can’t live without me.   Moonlight seeped through the mist and fell into my window vaguely. The thin curtain was blown up by the wind, wavering like rootless seaweed in deep waters.   I sat up and took out the divorce agreement from the drawer.   Over the years, although Liam didn’t love me, he could still be considered a good husband.   He would hand over all his wages and bonuses to me to manage.   And in the past year, he had become slightly different from before.   He would kiss me before leaving for work, and when we cuddled before sleep, he would whisper sweetly in my ear my nickname.   When I couldn’t sleep because of menstrual pain, he would rub his hands together to make them warm enough and give me a massage. Several times, I fell asleep in a daze and woke up in the middle of the night, only to find that he was still massaging despite being too tired to keep his eyes open.   I genuinely thought that given enough time, he could fall in love with me one day.   But when Eliza came back, I realized it was all just an illusion.   I divided the money I had saved over the years into two parts, signed my name on the divorce agreement, and quietly placed it on the coffee table. Then I packed my things and gently closed the door behind me.   I left.   Then, I logged onto reddit to reply to Liam’s answer with a simple sentence:   Yes, she can.   Liam’s call didn’t come until the next afternoon.   Maybe he had been occupied with Eliza before that, so he had just seen the divorce agreement I left behind.   “What do you mean by this?” Liam suppressed his anger and said, “Evelyn, you want to divorce me?”   I remained silent for a moment before whispering, “Yes. You should sign the agreement when you have the time. And let me know when you will be free to proceed with the divorce procedures with me.”   “Don’t worry, I didn’t take much. The house and car are all yours, only—”   Before I could finish, Liam interrupted me angrily:   “That’s enough from you! Is it really necessary to go this far for that farce last night?”   His voice sounded mocking, “You’re angry because of that reddit answer, right? Sure, my bad. But did I ever tell you how much I hate being threatened? Do you really think that—”   “I know that,” I didn’t wait for him to finish, “that’s why I’m serious.”   “Liam,” I held back the bitterness in my voice, “last night, I saw you both in the corridor.”   Liam’s breath caught, and he couldn’t say another word.   He seemed anxious to explain:   “That’s not it, you have to listen to me—”   With a teary voice, I said, “Liam, what was on your mind when you wrote that response? When you were trampling on my feelings, were you watching me like I was a joke, thinking I’m just a gullible fool?”   “Is my love so worthless in your eyes?”   Liam, who rarely flustered, stuttered, “I… I didn’t mean it that way! I just wrote that nonsense when I was drunk. Evelyn, don’t jump to any conclusion!”   Jump to a conclusion?   I curved my lips. He had made it so clear in his writing already, I can reach the conclusion easily without jumping.   I lifted my head, preventing tears from falling.   “Liam, let’s get a divorce!”   …   In that phone call, Liam refused to divorce me, no matter what.   He only said he needed more time to think.   I didn’t mind. If he didn’t agree, I could always sue for divorce in court, it would just mean me enduring this sickening situation a bit longer.   I could stand him not loving me, but I couldn’t tolerate him trampling on my feelings like this.   It never rains but it pours, and I meant that literally. Just a few days later, it suddenly started pouring when I was getting off work. The visibility was poor, and the car in front of the taxi I was on suddenly slowed down, causing the taxi to rear-end it.   My lower abdomen slammed hard against the corner of the notebook I was holding, and my forehead hit the window. The pain was so intense that everything went black in front of my eyes and I heard a buzzing in my ears.   Later, I was taken to the hospital. After a series of examinations, the doctor furrowed his brows slightly and said, “You’re already pregnant, how could you be so careless? You were already showing signs of threatened miscarriage, your child was very close to not making it!”   I was stunned.   My child?   Looking at my appearance, the doctor was puzzled and said,   “You don’t happen to be unaware that you’re pregnant, do you?”   I nodded, feeling somewhat bewildered, and touched my lower abdomen.   It felt flat, with no signs of abnormality whatsoever. I couldn’t imagine that inside it there was a tiny life connected to my own bloodline growing silently.   My mind was a mess, and I bit my lip.   Karma was indeed a bitch.   I had always wanted a child during the many years I was with Liam.   Back then, I always thought that having his baby would make him stay by my side, so I would constantly pester him, to the extent that he would scold me, saying,   “Hey, woman! Are you that horny?!”   However, even so, I failed to conceive his baby.   I couldn’t help but bitterly smile: now that we were getting a divorce, it came. Such an inappropriate time.   The pain in my head was still throbbing, and I felt sick.   The doctor examined me and said, “Right now the possibility of concussion is not yet ruled out. You need to stay in the hospital for a few days. Also, in your current condition, you need someone to take care of you. Have your family come over, and ask them to take care of the expenses as well.”   I pursed my lips, thought for a moment, and ultimately sent Liam a message. He didn’t reply, so I dialed his number.   Quite embarrassing. I had just threatened him with divorce, and now I was calling him immediately after all that had happened.   But I got married and moved to this city from another state, and so I didn’t have many relatives or friends here. The only person I could rely on was him.   The phone rang for a long time before he answered, and I could faintly hear the sound of music and people talking in the background.   Suppressing the pain in my head, I spoke in a low and hoarse voice,   “Liam, can you come and accompany me? I’m at the hospital, I just had a car accident.”   Liam sneered coldly, “Evelyn, can you come up with a decent excuse?”   “I wasn’t–”   He interrupted me, “Weren’t you full of energy yesterday, yelling at me to get a divorce? How come you’re regretting it so quickly?”   Eliza’s voice also came from the other end, “Liam, come over quickly!”   Before hanging up, Liam left me with a contemptuous laugh.   “Evelyn, I loathe you.”   Then there was only the cold electronic busy tone, with each ring pinned a rusty nail in my weary heart.   I stared at my phone, feeling like my heart had stopped beating. The headache and stomachache slowly faded away, and all I could feel was the dull pain in my heart, belatedly.   The doctor continued, “You’ll need to get a shot of Progesterone. Your health wasn’t so great to begin with, and now with the accident, it’ll be difficult to keep this baby. You–”   I looked up, numbly saying, “It’s okay. I don’t want this baby.”   “You want an abortion?”   After a pause, I nodded.   The taste of bitterness spread out on my tongue, but I still managed to say those words with difficulty:   “Yes, I want an abortion, please.”

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