1 I woke up to find a devastatingly handsome guy slumped over the side of my bed. Before I could even process the sheer force of his good looks, he opened his mouth. “Mom.” My brain short-circuited. “Oh my god,” I blurted out. “You’re a gamer too?” His expression turned thunderous. “I’m your son.” 2 Seeing the disbelief on my face, he sighed, a world-weary sound. “Mom, stop messing around.” He closed his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he’d fallen asleep or just died of exasperation. Between believing I’d somehow spawned a fully-grown adult son at the age of twenty and believing he was a gamer who’d lost his mind, I was leaning heavily toward the latter. I shook my head frantically. “I don’t have a son this old.” He gave me a look that was a complex cocktail of pity and frustration. “You’re forty. Is it really that weird to have a son my age?” I waved my hands in front of my face as if to ward off his words. “Impossible. I just celebrated my twentieth birthday yesterday. Did I blow out the candles and fast-forward two decades?” He frowned and held up his phone, the front-facing camera aimed at me. The woman on the screen had fine lines around her eyes and mouth. It was undeniably me, but a version of me that had been aged by twenty years. I touched my face, again and again, the reality sinking in like a stone. “Did I… time travel?” One night’s sleep, and I’d jumped from twenty to forty, with a bonus giant-sized son. It took a long, long time to wrap my head around it. “Who’s your dad?” I finally managed to ask, my voice hoarse. At the mention of his father, a flicker of disgust crossed his face. He spat out a name like it was poison. “Evan.” Evan. The guy I’d had a massive crush on for years in college. Suddenly, my son’s handsome face clicked into place. The elegant lines of his eyes and brows were a mirror image of Evan’s. But he had my softer features, tempering the sharp angles he’d inherited from his father. So, twenty years from now, my dream had come true. I’d not only married Evan, but we had a son this old. Meeting my future son for the first time was… awkward. I started interrogating him like a census taker: name, age, where he went to school. He answered every question patiently. His name was Leo. He was seventeen, a senior at Northwood High. Doing the math, I must have had him right after I graduated college. I tried to lighten the mood, teasing him like he was a little kid. “So, Leo, who do you like more? Mommy or Daddy?” His face fell instantly. “I can handle you having amnesia, Mom. I can’t handle you being an idiot.” “…” 3 Apparently, forty-year-old me had taken a tumble down the stairs, which is how I ended up in the hospital. Leo just assumed I had amnesia and that’s why I didn’t recognize him. When I brought up Evan, that flicker of disgust was back. “Don’t talk about him. He’s bad luck.” So, not the best father-son relationship, then. The doctors gave me a clean bill of health, so Leo checked me out of the hospital. The world had changed completely in twenty years. When we got to his—our—home, I felt like a country bumpkin on her first trip to the big city. It was a sprawling penthouse apartment with a panoramic view of the river. I couldn’t have even dreamed of being this wealthy in twenty years. Looking at a living room big enough to play badminton in, I suddenly felt a sense of relief. Maybe the universe wasn’t so bad to me after all. I’d just skipped twenty years of hard work. I wandered through the apartment, but there was no sign of Evan anywhere. I didn’t think much of it. The last I remembered, he was just starting his own business. It looked like he’d been successful. CEOs are busy. I could understand. Forty-year-old me was a lady of leisure, with time and money to burn. Twenty-year-old me was a broke college student. My first instinct upon striking it rich? Revenge spending. When I’d first seen my reflection, I was horrified. I looked haggard and neglected. I’d always been someone who took pride in my appearance. I couldn’t stand looking like this. I went on a spree: facials, manicures, a whole new wardrobe. It was only when I looked in the mirror and saw a completely transformed woman that I was satisfied. I snapped a few selfies, wanting to share them with my best friend, only to realize I didn’t have her number in my new phone. 4 It was late when I got home. Leo wasn’t there, and he wasn’t answering his phone. A high school kid—where could he be after school? I went out to find him. Even though in reality, he was only a couple of years younger than me, in my mind, he was my son, a kid I needed to look out for. Just as I got to the entrance of our building, I saw him walking up, still in his school uniform. “Where have you been?” I asked, grabbing his arm. He didn’t say anything. It wasn’t until we were inside, under the bright lights of the lobby, that I saw the bruises on his face. “Did you get into a fight?” I reached out to touch his cheek. He turned his head away. “I fell.” I didn’t believe him for a second. You don’t get bruises like that from falling. He was stubborn, just like me. Once he’d made up his mind not to talk, there was no getting it out of him. To find out what was going on, I decided to follow him. The next day, I staked out his school. When the final bell rang, students poured out of the gates in a massive wave. I spotted Leo immediately. Call it a mother’s bias, but he stood out from the crowd, a head taller and more handsome than anyone else. A small swell of pride rose in my chest. I had good taste—a handsome husband, an even more handsome son. He hadn’t gotten far from the school when a group of boys in the same uniform surrounded him. They grabbed him and dragged him away. 5 My heart leaped into my throat. I grabbed the baseball bat from the trunk of my car and followed them. They pulled Leo into a deserted alley. The leader of the group got in his face. I couldn’t hear what he said, but it made Leo see red. He threw a punch, hitting the kid square in the jaw. The rest of the group was about to jump Leo when I stepped in front of him, bat in hand. “Everybody freeze! Who taught you to bully your classmates?” Leo’s eyes widened when he saw me, a reflexive “Mom” escaping his lips. When the leader heard it, his face twisted into an ugly sneer. “So your mommy’s here?” he spat. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll still beat the crap out of you!” I swung the bat and connected with the kid’s leg. The arrogant punk crumpled to the ground, howling in pain. The others saw their leader go down and surged forward, ready for revenge. I shoved the bat into Leo’s hands. “Son, hit him!” Leo looked at me like I’d lost my mind. I leaned in and whispered, “I already called the cops. You’re a minor. You won’t get in serious trouble.” With the bat, the other boys couldn’t get close to him. But there were too many of them. Leo was quickly overwhelmed. I saw one of them pick up a rock, ready to bring it down on Leo’s head. Without a second thought, I threw myself in front of him, shielding him with my body. I braced for the impact, but the pain never came. The police had arrived. 6 At the police station, we were all taken in for statements. Leo and I should have been the victims, but because I’d brought a baseball bat, the incident was classified as a mutual affray. Luckily, no one was seriously injured. After a stern lecture, we were told we could leave after posting bail and having someone come sign for us. The problem was, who could we call? My first instinct was to call Evan, but Leo stopped me. His lips were pressed into a thin, hard line. “Don’t call him.” I knew their relationship was strained, so I didn’t push it. “Then who?” After a long moment, Leo dialed a number. My best friend Chloe’s voice came through the phone. Hearing my son call her “Aunt Chloe,” the knot of anxiety in my chest finally loosened. I’d been worried when I couldn’t find her contact in my phone, thinking maybe we’d had a falling out. It seemed that wasn’t the case. We sat and waited for Chloe. One by one, the other families came and went, until it was just us and the leader of the other boys. “What’s taking Chloe so long?” I grumbled. Leo looked at me, a strange expression on his face, but he didn’t say anything. I was scrolling through videos on my phone when I sensed someone approaching. I looked up. Evan. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. He looked older, more mature than the boy I remembered, with a quiet, powerful presence. He was exactly how I’d imagined a CEO version of him would be. A smile bloomed on my face, and I was about to greet him when I saw him walk right past us and over to the other boy. He frowned slightly, ruffling the boy’s hair. “What did you do to end up in a police station?” I was about to tell him he had the wrong son when Leo grabbed my hand. His eyes were hard and stubborn. He shook his head. “Don’t. He has nothing to do with us.” 7 It was only then that Evan seemed to notice us. His brow furrowed. “What are you two doing here?” Before I could speak, the other boy beat me to it. In front of Evan, his earlier arrogance was gone, replaced by a pitiable, wronged expression. He tugged on Evan’s sleeve. “Dad, I know Leo doesn’t like me. It’s okay that Aunt Cathy hit me for him. Please don’t be mad at them.” The kid was a master manipulator, and Evan fell for it hook, line, and sinker. His face darkened with anger. “Cathy, you’re a grown woman. Are you really going to pick on a child? Apologize to Julian right now!” I gave him a slow, deliberate once-over, then let out a cold laugh. Evan’s frown deepened. “This is between you and me. Why are you taking it out on a kid?” And just like that, I understood everything that had happened in the last twenty years. Evan had been cheating on me for years, and he even let his illegitimate son bully our son. The realization hit me like a physical blow. I raised my hand and slapped him, hard, across the face. “Who do you think you are?” He’d clearly never been hit by the forty-year-old me before. Disbelief warred with rage in his eyes. “Cathy, are you insane?” The slap was so sudden that even Leo looked shocked. But he recovered quickly, stepping in front of me protectively. Julian, of course, seized the opportunity to add fuel to the fire. “Aunt Cathy, even if you don’t like me and my mom, you can’t treat Dad like this!” I turned my dead-eyed stare on him. “One more word out of you, and you’re next.” Evan was practically vibrating with fury. “That’s enough, Cathy! Look at you! What have you become?” “What have I become?” I said coolly. “A goddess, slapping you across the face.” Chloe arrived just in time to hear my comeback. She burst out laughing, completely ignoring the thunderous look on Evan’s face. “Oh my god, I can’t. That’s hilarious.” I shot her an annoyed look. A forty-year-old woman, and she still had no composure. She finally managed to get herself under control, looking at me like I was some kind of exotic animal. “Well, well. You finally grew a spine.” A cold dread washed over me. Had the future me turned into some kind of pathetic, lovesick doormat? Leo looked between me and Chloe, his expression unreadable. Chloe acted like she’d only just noticed Evan. “Oh, your dear husband is here. Why did you call me? Oh, right. He’s here to back up his bastard son.” The words “dear husband” made my head spin. Chloe didn’t spare me another glance. She treated me like I was invisible. After we left the station, she fussed over Leo, asking about his injuries, worrying about his studies. She was acting more like his mother than I was. I tried to speak to her several times, but she ignored me. She finally left after taking a phone call, without a single word to me. A wave of self-pity washed over me. I’d woken up twenty years in the future, and my best friend was treating me like a stranger. The wind whipped at my face, and tears streamed down my cheeks. Leo gently wiped them away. “It’s windy. Let’s go home.” I stared at his face, so much like Evan’s. After a long moment, I finally spoke. “Leo… if I said I wanted a divorce, would you be okay with that?” He froze. When my words finally registered, his eyes widened in disbelief. But the surprise quickly faded, replaced by a quiet resignation. “Okay. Let’s go home.” 8 I grabbed his arm, my voice firm. “Leo, I want a divorce. I’m not kidding.” It took a long time before he finally managed a quiet, “Okay.” I nudged his arm, trying to joke. “Is that all you have to say? I say I want a divorce, and that’s your reaction?” He gave a bitter smile. “What do you want me to say?” I looked at him, suddenly at a loss for words. In his eyes, I had just lost my memory. My talk of divorce was just a whim. He would never believe something as crazy as time travel. Leo avoided talking about my memory loss, and I was completely in the dark about the last twenty years. But I was starting to guess why the future me was so reluctant to get a divorce. I dropped the subject and asked him if he was hungry. He instinctively said no, but his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl. “Alright,” I said, putting on a brave face. “Let’s go home. Mom will make you a late-night snack!” I’m not exactly a gifted chef. Luckily, Leo wasn’t a picky eater. After an hour of me puttering around in the kitchen, I presented him with a bowl of instant noodles. He ate it without a single complaint, even managing a compliment. “This is the best instant noodles I’ve ever had.” I told him not to flatter me, but my heart ached. Leo was the best kid in the world. But Cathy… Cathy was not a good mother. After that night, our relationship seemed to thaw a little. He’d come home from school and complain about his homework. He’d also make snide remarks about my cooking. One day, I presented him with a new creation. His face contorted in horror. “Why are the chicken wings… green?” “Coca-Cola chicken is so last season,” I announced proudly. “This is my new invention: Fanta chicken! Isn’t it a refreshing change?” “You know,” he said, looking disgusted, “I kind of miss the days when you ignored me.” We both froze. He looked instantly regretful and took the plate from my hands. “I mean, the color is a little weird, but it probably tastes amazing.” As he took a big bite and told me how great it was, my eyes started to burn. I snatched the plate back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.” “Who said I don’t like it?” he said, his voice rising. “I think it’s great!” Tears streamed down my face. Leo just stared at me, completely at a loss. He fumbled, trying to wipe my tears away. I scrubbed at my face with the back of my hand. “Leo, Mom is so sorry.” He looked away, uncomfortable. “It’s just a plate of chicken wings. It’s not a big deal.” “I haven’t been a good mother to you,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “Not now, and not before.” He opened his mouth, but in the end, he said nothing.

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1 It was three in the morning when I stared at the string of unfamiliar charges on my phone, my fingertips ice-cold. $2,980. The Grand Washington Hotel, Executive Suite. The charge was from last night at 8 PM. My husband, Ethan, is a homicide detective. He was supposed to be on the night shift. My knuckles turned white as I clutched the phone. I sent him a text. “Just saw the credit card statement. A hotel charge from last night?” He replied instantly. “The department had us on a last-minute overtime detail. They put us up in a hotel. Forgot to tell you.” I stared at the words and a cold, humorless smile touched my lips. The Grand Washington was on the west side of the city. His precinct was on the east. An entire city lay between them. I didn’t press him. Instead, I opened my banking app, screenshotted the merchant address, and forwarded it to my best friend, Chloe. She was a private investigator. Her reply was a quick “OK” emoji, followed by a message: “You just wait. I’m about to uncover a masterpiece of dirt for you.” … Two hours later, Chloe’s messages blew up my phone. A security camera video. A GPS location. In the video, Ethan, still in his police uniform, was holding hands with a girl in a white dress as they entered the hotel elevator. The girl had long hair and a slender waist. In profile, she couldn’t have been more than twenty. When she smiled, her eyes curved into crescents. On her wrist was a familiar red cord bracelet. The GPS location was for “St. Jude’s Orphanage.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. My breathing grew tight. That red cord bracelet… I had woven it myself three years ago, a charm for his safety. He had sworn he would never take it off, except on dangerous assignments. And the orphanage? I knew Ethan sponsored a girl there. Her name was Lily. Her parents had died when she was young, and he’d said she was withdrawn and lonely. He’d mentioned her a few times, saying the poor kid needed extra support. I’d even gone with him once to drop off some things. I only saw her from a distance—a skinny, silent girl who never looked up. She was nothing like the radiant young woman in the video. I changed my clothes and drove straight to the orphanage. The security guard recognized my car and waved me through, telling me Lily was in the back garden. I saw her from a distance, sitting on a bench, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked down at her phone. The sunlight caught the ends of her hair, gilding them in gold. The red cord on her wrist flashed, a bright slash of color that made my eyes ache. She heard my footsteps and looked up. Her smile froze when she saw me. She quickly stood, her voice timid. “Mrs… Mrs. Evans.” She was just as I remembered her: shy and reserved. I walked right up to her, my eyes falling on her phone screen. The chat was open to a conversation with “Ethan.” His last message, sent at 7:30 last night, read: “Old spot tonight. I have a gift for you.” Her reply: “Okay! You’re the best, Ethan!” I said nothing, shifting my gaze to the red cord on her wrist. “That’s a nice bracelet,” I said, my voice flat. “Did Ethan give it to you?” Her face paled. She instinctively tried to hide her hand behind her back. “Yes… He said it was for my birthday.” “Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “When was your birthday? I don’t remember Ethan ever mentioning it.” Her eyes darted around, and she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. I smiled, pulling out my own phone. I played the security footage and held it in front of her face. “8 PM. The Grand Washington Hotel. Was this the gift your ‘Ethan’ gave you?” The blood drained from Lily’s face. Tears welled up in her eyes instantly, fat drops splashing onto the back of her hands. Her shoulders trembled like a leaf in an autumn wind. “Mrs. Evans, it’s not what you think…” she sobbed. “Ethan said there was a mission for the department, and he needed my help… he told me to wait for him at the hotel… I swear I didn’t know…” “A mission?” I repeated, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “What kind of mission requires a white dress, my husband’s personal good luck charm, and a hotel room?” She was speechless, her sobs growing louder, attracting the attention of a caregiver from the orphanage. The woman, who was in her forties and recognized me, hurried over. “Mrs. Evans, Lily’s just a kid. She doesn’t know any better. Is there some kind of misunderstanding?” I ignored her, my eyes locked on Lily. “How long have you been with Ethan?” She bit her lip, shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. “I haven’t… Mrs. Evans, please believe me…” “I don’t.” I put my phone away and turned to leave. There was nothing more to say to her. The moment I got in my car, Ethan called. “Sienna, you went to the orphanage?” His voice was laced with annoyance. “Lily just called me, crying. She said you misunderstood.” “Misunderstood?” I laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. “What did I misunderstand? That she was wearing your bracelet while on a date with you at a hotel?” There was a pause on the other end, then Ethan’s voice came back, weary and strained. “Sienna, can you please be mature about this? Lily is a troubled kid I’m sponsoring. Her life has been hard. What’s wrong with me looking out for her? Why do you always have to be so suspicious?” “Suspicious?” My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Ethan, you weren’t even on duty last night, were you?” His tone turned to ice. “Sienna, are you having me followed?” “I don’t have the time for that.” I hung up on him and immediately called Chloe. “I need you to pull Ethan’s duty rosters for the last six months. And all his hotel records. I want every single detail.” Chloe let out a low whistle. “So we’re going scorched earth, huh? You got it. Stand by.” Thirty minutes later, the email arrived. In the attached file, more than a dozen dates on Ethan’s duty roster were circled in red. All of them were nights he claimed to be working but was never actually at the precinct. The hotel records were a gut punch. Starting three months ago, there was a charge almost every week. The locations varied, but they were always near the orphanage. The most recent was last night’s charge at The Grand Washington. The payment method for every single one was his credit card. I stared at the records, a wave of nausea rolling through me. Ethan, we’ve been married for five years. I knew your job was demanding, dangerous. I handled everything at home so you wouldn’t have to worry. When you told me you wanted to sponsor Lily, I supported you. I even bought her clothes and books myself… And all this time, the man I gave my entire heart to was treating me like a fool. My phone rang again. It was Ethan’s partner, Mark. “Sienna, did you and Ethan have a fight?” Mark sounded uncomfortable. “He just tore through the precinct, throwing files around, yelling about how you’re being unreasonable…” I listened numbly as Mark tried to smooth things over. “Listen, Ethan’s under a lot of pressure. You gotta cut him some slack. That Lily kid, she’s had it rough. He’s just got a soft spot for her, that’s all…” “A soft spot that requires hotel room service?” I cut him off, my voice like ice. “Mark, if you don’t have anything else to say, I’m hanging up.” I ended the call, started the car, and drove straight to the City Police Department headquarters. Some debts needed to be settled face-to-face. The entrance to the police department was bustling. I had just parked when I saw Ethan walking out. He was in uniform, tall and imposing, but his face was dark. He saw me, and his brow furrowed instantly. He strode over, yanked open the passenger door, and slid inside. “Sienna, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, his voice low and seething with rage. “Are you trying to make a scene?” “Make a scene?” I looked at him. “Ethan, I just want the truth. What, exactly, is your relationship with Lily?” He turned away, avoiding my eyes. “I told you. I’m her sponsor.” “Does sponsoring her involve a hotel?” I sneered. “Ethan, do you think I’m blind?” He whipped his head back to face me, his eyes sharp. “Sienna! Are you going to keep pushing me?” Just then, a slender figure darted out from behind a pillar near the entrance. It was Lily. She was clutching a thermos, her white dress fluttering in the breeze. When she saw us in the car, her face went white, and her eyes immediately filled with tears. “Ethan…” she called out, her voice trembling like a leaf. “I brought you some homemade soup… I didn’t know your wife would be here…” Ethan flinched as if he’d been burned. He shot out of the car and was at her side in three strides, instinctively shielding her behind him. The movement was so natural, so practiced, it was like a knife in my eyes. “Who told you to come here?” His words were a reprimand, but his tone held an unmistakable undercurrent of tenderness. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me in my office?” “I-I was worried the soup would get cold…” Lily looked down, and as she did, the red cord bracelet slid down her arm. The glaring red caught my eye. I pushed my door open. The sharp click of my heels echoed on the concrete as I walked toward them. As I approached, Ethan subtly pulled Lily further behind him. That one small gesture ignited the fury that had been smoldering in my chest. “You’re protecting her?” I laughed, but the sound was cold. “Ethan, in your heart, who is your wife?” “Sienna, stop being hysterical!” Ethan’s face was thunderous. “Lily is just a kid! You’re scaring her!” “I’m scaring her?” I pointed at Lily’s wrist, my voice rising. “Then you tell me what that is on her arm! I wove that red cord! I had a charm for your safety woven into it at the temple three years ago! You said you would wear it for the rest of your life to protect me! And what did you do? You gave it to another woman and took her to a hotel room!” Passing officers were starting to stare, some stopping to whisper. Ethan’s face flushed, a vein throbbing at his temple. “Sienna! Can we talk about this at home? This is my workplace!” “Are you scared now?” I took a step closer, locking my eyes on his. “You weren’t scared when you took her into that hotel, were you? You weren’t scared when you brought her into our home, into our bed! Ethan, when you were doing your disgusting deeds in that uniform, you should have known this day would come!” “Mrs. Evans, please stop…” Lily burst into tears, clinging to Ethan’s arm. “It’s all my fault, don’t blame Ethan… It was me… I pursued him. He rejected me so many times…” “You pursued him?” I laughed as if it were the funniest joke in the world. I pulled out my phone, played the video, and shoved it in her face. “Pursued him all the way into the elevator, holding his hand? Pursued him by wearing my bracelet and waiting for him in a hotel room? Lily, did your parents not teach you the meaning of the word ‘shame’?” She trembled under my verbal assault, tears streaming down her face. Suddenly, she clutched her stomach and doubled over. “Ah… my stomach…” Ethan’s expression changed in an instant. Without thinking, he bent down to help her. “Lily! What’s wrong?” “Don’t touch her!” I shouted. “Ethan, look at her! She’s acting!” “Sienna, are you insane?!” he roared, the disgust in his eyes cutting me like a razor. “Lily’s pregnant! If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you!”

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The night my girlfriend, Ava, won Pop Artist of the Year for the third time in a row, she stood on the Aria Awards stage and announced her retirement. She left the world with one final song, a haunting ballad titled simply, Aiden. The internet exploded. The world buzzed, speculating about the identity of this mystery man. A moment later, Ava’s official account updated: “In memory of my lost first love.” The comment section flooded with tearful emojis and condolences. In that instant, my heart turned to ash. But I didn’t fly into a jealous rage or demand answers like I used to. Instead, on the day of our wedding, I boarded a flight to another continent. And that’s when Ava, the untouchable queen of pop, finally broke. She crossed an ocean to beg me to come back. 1 When Ava got home, I was glued to the couch, controller in hand, deep in a video game. She despised it. Called it childish, a dead-end hobby for guys with no ambition. For her, I’d walked away from a booming career in esports, said goodbye to my teammates, and dedicated myself to being the man behind the superstar. She paused in the entryway, the motion of slipping off her heels hesitating for a fraction of a second, but she didn’t say anything. She walked over to the couch and tossed an exquisitely wrapped gift box onto the cushion beside me. “Happy birthday.” “Oh. Thanks.” She froze, clearly not expecting such a flat response. Every year before this, my birthday turned me into an excited kid. I’d pester her for gifts, for hugs, for attention. “Aren’t you going to open it?” “No need. I love it,” I mumbled, my tone dismissive as I reached for my controller to unpause the game. “Caleb!” Her voice shot up, sharp and angry. She snatched the controller from my hands and slammed it onto the hardwood floor. “What the hell is your problem?” I rose from the couch, my face a cold, emotionless mask. “I don’t have one.” Then I turned and walked back to my room, leaving her standing alone in the living room. I caught a flash of bewilderment in her eyes, a flicker of something that looked almost like panic. Tonight was her awards ceremony. It was also my birthday. I had reservations at our favorite Italian restaurant. I had a ring hidden in my jacket pocket. I was going to propose, to give her the surprise of her life. On the way to the restaurant, I was scrolling through my phone, looking for news about her win. The number one trending topic was a photo of her on stage, trophy in hand. I was about to tap on it when the next headline stopped my heart. “AVA’S NEW ALBUM ART REVEALED—A SECRET LOVER?” My thumb trembled as I clicked the link. The album cover was a photo of her with another man. He was handsome, with fine features and a gentle smile, dressed in a simple white shirt. Ava was nestled in his arms, her face radiant with a kind of pure, unadulterated happiness I’d never seen before. This wasn’t just some random guy. It was Aiden. Aiden. Her high school obsession. The one that got away. A ghost she could never let go of. A man who had been dead for over a year. My hands shaking, I played the interview clip, desperate for some rational explanation. But every word she spoke was a knife twisting in my gut. “This album is a gift for him,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, tears welling in her eyes. “He was the love of my life. We promised we’d get married on his 28th birthday…” On screen, she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. And in my car, a chilling numbness washed over me, as if I’d been plunged into an icy abyss. 2 Messages from my old coach started blowing up my phone, a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Are you serious? You’re not worried about what’s-her-name getting pissed? You ditched the team, your brothers, for her. Now you’re saying you want back in? I’m not buying it for a second!” I managed a bitter smile. “She won’t be a problem. My focus is 100% on the game now.” “Bullshit! The amount of effort you put into chasing Ava was more than you ever put into a tournament. And now you’re telling me it’s all about the game?” “If you come back for a few days and then bail on us again, I’ll kill you myself!” “I won’t. This was always my dream. I’m not giving it up again.” The truth is, Ava was my first love, too. Back in high school, my dad went to prison for manslaughter, and our world came crashing down. My mom couldn’t handle the fallout and took her own life. At school, kids treated me like a leper. They threw rocks at me, called me the son of a killer. I was drowning in despair, suffocating in grief. It was Ava who pulled me out of that abyss, time and time again. She stood up for me when I was bullied, offered me comfort when I felt utterly alone. “Caleb, don’t listen to them,” she’d said, her voice a gentle but firm anchor in my storm. “What happened with your dad was an accident. You have your own life to live. You have to live it for your mom, too. Live it well.” Her words were a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. A warmth spread across my back as Ava’s arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me from my thoughts. For a fleeting moment, my resolve softened. “Caleb,” she murmured against my shoulder. “For the wedding… let’s just have a simple dinner with a few friends. No need to invite extended family or make a big deal out of it.” I closed my eyes, hiding the bitterness that welled up inside me. “Okay.” “And one more thing,” she said, her tone shifting, becoming more hesitant. “About the marriage license… maybe we should wait a few years before we make it official. I know I’m retiring, but the spotlight is still on me. If news got out that I’m officially married, it could hurt my brand.” Seven years. We had been together for seven years. And in the end, I wasn’t even worth a piece of paper. “Okay.” My compliance seemed to satisfy her. She leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my head, and her lips met my cheek. “What’s wrong?” she asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “I’m just tired.” I shut my eyes, feigning sleep. A sickening thought began to creep into my mind. In the haze of all those passionate nights, when she whispered my name, was she really seeing my face? Or was she seeing his? The question devoured the last shred of warmth I had left for her. 3 I woke up the next morning to an empty apartment. Ava was already gone. My phone screen lit up. A message from Coach: “Training camp in Paris starts in a few days! I booked your ticket!” I glanced at the date on the ticket. It was for the same day as my wedding. Seven days. This hollow, half-assed wedding suddenly seemed utterly pointless. I began to pack, moving like an automaton. Seven years wasn’t a lifetime, but it wasn’t short, either. Yet, the sum of my possessions in her apartment was shockingly small. Good thing we never got married, I thought grimly. Would’ve made this even messier. I decided I had to end it, to tell her face-to-face. I smoked one cigarette after another, the smoke coiling around me like ghosts of the past. I saw myself seven years ago, young and naive, proudly bringing Ava home to meet my teammates. “Guys, this is my girlfriend,” I’d announced, my heart swelling with pride. “You’d better be nice to her.” They’d all laughed and teased me about being whipped. I just stood there, grinning like an idiot, a sweetness spreading through my chest. My phone rang, shattering the memory. It was Ava’s manager. “Caleb, Ava’s had too much to drink. Can you come pick her up? I’m sending you the address now.” When I got to the bar, she was completely wasted, making a scene. “Ava!” I called out, approaching her. She squinted at me, her eyes unfocused. “Who are you? What gives you the right to tell me what to do?” One of her friends recognized me and rushed over to intervene. “Ava, you’re drunk. That’s Caleb, your boyfriend!” “Caleb?” Her expression turned vacant. “No… you’re not my Caleb. My Aiden would never wear a color like this…” Her drunken gaze swept over me, thick with disgust. “My Aiden… he only wore white shirts. He had the kindest smile, and he played the guitar…” She reached out, her fingers tracing the lines of my face as if she were seeing someone else entirely. I stood frozen, a pain so sharp it stole my breath piercing through my chest. “You’re not him,” she slurred, shoving me away with a look of pure revulsion. “You’re an imposter. A pathetic gamer who could never be him.” Of course. That’s why she always insisted I wear white shirts. That’s why she was never quite satisfied with my looks, even suggesting plastic surgery once. That’s why, the night I confessed my feelings all those years ago, she had cried and held me, calling out Aiden’s name. It all made sense now. I wasn’t her lover. I was a substitute. A ridiculous, laughable stand-in to fill the void he’d left behind. A choked laugh escaped my lips, but tears streamed down my face. I turned to her friends, my voice polite and steady. “Please take care of Ava. I’m leaving.” I paused at the door. “And when she sobers up, tell her we’re over.” I walked out without looking back. If I had stayed a second longer, I would’ve shattered completely. 4 Back at the apartment, I started gathering my things, ready to throw them all away. My eyes landed on a framed photo on the nightstand. It was of the two of us. In the picture, I was wearing a white shirt, my hair perfectly styled, a shy smile on my face. I looked like a different person. It was taken seven years ago, not long after we first got together. She had insisted on a professional couple’s photoshoot. I’d asked her why. “I want to capture this perfect moment,” she’d said, beaming. “So when we’re old, we can look back at these pictures and remember how happy we were.” A strange impulse made me ask, “Ava, do you love me?” She paused, then smiled. “Silly. Of course I love you. Why else would I be with you?” Her smile, her tone—it was all so genuine, so sincere, that it left no room for doubt. Click. The camera shutter captured our moment of blissful ignorance forever. Now, seven years later, I finally understood. It was all a lie. Ava’s love was never meant for me. I tossed the frame into a trash bag. Then I remembered my suitcase, filled almost exclusively with white shirts. I pulled them out, one by one, and threw them in the bag as well. I hated them. I much preferred soft cotton t-shirts. “I’ll buy new ones later,” I muttered with a self-deprecating laugh. Just as I was in the middle of my purge, the front door opened and Ava stumbled in. She looked more sober now, though a flush still lingered on her cheeks. “Make me some tea to sober up,” she commanded, not even glancing my way. My voice was flat. “We’re out of tea.” She stopped, finally seeming to register my cold tone. She looked up, her expression confused, as if wondering why her order wasn’t being followed. She didn’t remember mistaking me for someone else at the bar. She didn’t remember the humiliating things she’d said. Or maybe, she just didn’t care. She rubbed her temples, annoyed. “Then order something. I want—” “Ava, let’s break up.” She frowned. “What did you say?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Stop messing around. We’re getting married in a few days.” I laid it all out. “Ava, I’m not Aiden. The person you want to marry has never been me.” A flicker of panic crossed her eyes. Her voice softened. “The wedding isn’t canceled. Caleb, don’t be angry. I promise I’ll never mention him again, okay?” When she lied, she always glanced to her left, as if reading from a script only she could see. She probably didn’t even know she did it. “Ava, can’t we just let each other go?” “Caleb, what are you trying to say?” Her voice hardened again. “I’ve already sent out the invitations. Don’t you dare humiliate me.” Right. She was a superstar. She couldn’t be embarrassed. “Aiden is dead,” she snapped, her patience gone. “Why are you so obsessed with him?” I gave a bitter laugh. “But he’s not dead to you, is he?” He was gone, but he lived on in her heart, occupying a space I could never hope to touch. I looked her straight in the eye. “Ava, it’s been seven years. Was there ever, even for a single moment, a time when you truly loved me?” She looked away, irritated. “Don’t ask such stupid questions. If I didn’t love you, why would I have stayed with you for so long?” A non-answer. Which was an answer in itself. Suddenly, the whole thing felt pointless. This farce had to end. “Fine,” I said calmly. “If you insist, we’ll get married.” Ava seemed to let out a breath of relief. “Caleb, don’t talk about breaking up again. I might actually take you seriously next time. I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight.” She fled into the room as if escaping a threat. I just smiled, a hollow, empty gesture. It didn’t matter to me where she slept. I had no intention of showing up to the wedding anyway. 5 I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat parched. As I fumbled my way to the kitchen for a glass of water, I heard the faint sound of a voice coming from the guest room. “Don’t worry, I’ve calmed Caleb down. He won’t find out…” My heart dropped, and I froze in the hallway. “No, it’s fine. We agreed not to get the marriage license yet. There’s no way he’ll find out that Aiden and I were already legally married.” The words hit me like a physical blow. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She married him. She actually married Aiden. Ava kept talking, her voice low. “Aiden is my husband. Caleb doesn’t deserve that title.” Through the crack in the door, I saw her holding a marriage certificate, her gaze full of a deep, sorrowful affection. A wave of nausea churned in my stomach. Seven years ago, Aiden had a car accident that left him in a vegetative state. His family took him abroad for treatment. I had always assumed their story ended there. How naive I’d been. I staggered back to my room and lay awake until dawn. Ava left early the next morning. The moment she was gone, I searched the guest room and found it. The so-called marriage certificate. My hands trembled as I opened it. The date of marriage was written clearly: two years ago. Two years ago, my company sent me on a year-long assignment abroad. Before I left, I’d told her earnestly that I wanted to get married. She’d put me off, saying she was too busy with work. I, like a fool, believed her, telling her to focus on her career and that we could talk about it later. It turned out that while I was gone, she had been at his side. She had married a man in a coma. A profound weariness settled over me, so heavy I didn’t have the energy to speak or even think. Hours later, my phone rang. It was Ava. “Caleb, I’m swamped lately. For the wedding photos, I’ll just have someone Photoshop us together, okay?” I glanced at the date. I’d forgotten we were supposed to have our photos taken today. A bitter laugh escaped me. “Fine.” “I’ve also bought the rings, so you don’t need to worry about that.” She didn’t even want to pretend to try them on. The whole thing was a complete sham. “Oh, and the wedding outfits are being delivered to the apartment today. I probably won’t be home for the next few days, so just meet me at the venue on the day.” “Okay.” I hung up and closed my eyes, exhausted. Time was moving so fast. Only three days left until the wedding.

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1 A month after I started dating my childhood sweetheart, I stumbled upon a post on a relationship forum. [Title: My crush’s parents are obsessed with his female best friend. How can I drive them apart?] In the top-voted comment, the original poster (OP) passionately defended her position. [OP]: We’re in love, we just haven’t said the words yet. [OP]: He changed his top-choice college application, just so he could go to the same school as me. [OP]: He told me he was just “giving it a try” with his best friend, but he realized they’re not compatible at all. But it was the photo she attached that sent a shard of ice through my heart. It was a picture of two pairs of feet, angled toward each other. On the tops of their sneakers were hand-painted cartoon dragons, positioned to form a heart between them. I stared at the photo, my vision blurring, until the truth finally crystallized. The “crush” she was talking about… was my boyfriend, Ethan. 2 The comments section was a flurry of activity. [User1]: Ugh, I hate parents like that. They only care about maintaining their social circles, not their kids’ actual happiness. [User2]: I don’t even consider guys who have a “female best friend.” Who knows what kind of secret feelings have been brewing between them for years? [User3]: You’re so lucky. My crush is completely devoted to his childhood friend. … The OP replied to each one, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction. [OP]: What does it matter what his parents want? In the end, parents always give in to their kids. As long as he loves me, that’s all that matters. [OP]: I call her his “best friend” to be polite. But honestly? She’s the other woman, trying to wreck a real relationship. Someone challenged her. [User4]: Didn’t you say your crush is already “giving it a try” with her? That means they’re dating, right? So technically, aren’t YOU the other woman? The OP responded with a single eye-roll emoji. [OP]: There’s no such thing as a homewrecker when no one’s married. Whoever gets the ring in the end wins. Besides, it’s not my fault he likes me more! Finally, she posted a screenshot of a text exchange. Ethan: Not my idea. The parents are having dinner. I’m just the show pony. Krista: But my stomach hurts. I’m all alone on a bench at the mall. Ethan: Send me your location. Don’t move, I’m on my way. [OP]: See? All I have to do is say the word, and he’ll drop everything for me. I stared at the screen, at his familiar name, a hollow feeling spreading through my chest. So, this is how he talked about me to other people. Just “giving it a try.” After what felt like an eternity, I realized my phone was vibrating. It was him. “Nora,” he said, his voice rushed. “Something came up, I can’t make it to dinner. Can you just make an excuse to the parents for me? Cover for me.” I was silent for a few seconds. “What kind of excuse do you think I should use?” Ethan sighed, a hint of impatience in his voice. “I don’t know, just… tell them there was an issue with the graduation gift I ordered for you, and I’m at the store sorting it out.” When I didn’t respond, he clicked his tongue. “Is it that hard to tell one little lie? I’m serious, this is an emergency. I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” He hung up. And just like that, a strange calm washed over me. After years of nursing a secret crush, I had spent two weeks meticulously planning my confession to him after graduation. When he said yes, I had been ecstatic, immediately calling my best friend, Mia, to share the news. She had frowned, her disapproval clear. “You had to be the one to confess? I’m sorry, Nora, but I just don’t see him treating you like you’re special.” “If you hadn’t told me, I never would’ve known you two were dating. He hasn’t even posted anything about you.” She had pulled up his social media, sighing. “Gaming, basketball, hanging with the guys… wait a minute.” Mia pointed to a group photo on his feed. “See that girl? That’s Krista Sterling, the transfer student I told you about. They were always super close at school. He has pictures of her on his feed, but not a single one of you!” The memory made me laugh, a brittle, humorless sound. “Krista,” I whispered. Of course. But Ethan… we grew up together. If you didn’t like me, you could have just said so. Why did you have to play me like this? 3 I scrubbed the tears from my eyes, trying to compose myself before I had to face our parents. But the moment I pushed open the door to the private dining room and saw their expectant faces, the sting at the back of my nose was unbearable. I ducked my head and quietly slid into the seat next to my mom. Ethan’s mother, Aunt Clara, looked past me towards the door, a puzzled expression on her face. “Where’s Ethan? I thought he was coming with you.” My own mom looked at me, confused. “Yeah, honey, where is he? Weren’t you two together?” I spoke slowly, my voice flat. “He said something urgent came up. He can’t make it.” I turned to his mom. “Aunt Clara, maybe you should try calling him. My phone’s about to die.” She didn’t suspect a thing, immediately pulling out her phone. But call after call went straight to voicemail. Finally, it wouldn’t even ring. The line was dead. Under the table, I refreshed the forum post. A new update had appeared. [OP]: His mom keeps calling. It’s definitely his ‘best friend’ putting her up to it! I turned his phone off. A wave of dizziness washed over me. Aunt Clara suffered from severe anxiety. She needed to check in on her husband and son several times a day just to feel secure. Because of this, Ethan never turned his phone off. He even had special permission from our high school teachers to keep it on him at all times. I remembered once, I’d borrowed his phone to play a game and accidentally let the battery die. Even though I plugged it in and turned it back on immediately, he had still yelled at me, his face pale with panic. And now, I watched his mother’s hands tremble as she dialed his number again and again, only to be met with the cold, robotic voice: “The number you have dialed has been switched off…” I thought, with a grim, twisted sort of humor, he really does treat different people differently, doesn’t he? 4 Unable to get through, Aunt Clara started to panic. “It was just ringing before, why is it off now? What if something happened to him?” Just then, our dads walked in, laughing and carrying a bottle of wine. Seeing his wife’s distressed face, Ethan’s father stopped short. “What’s wrong?” Aunt Clara rushed to him, grabbing his hand. “I can’t reach Ethan! His phone is off! What if he was in an accident? We have to go find him!” Everyone knew about her condition. My dad quickly tried to soothe her. “Clara, if it was a car crash, a bystander would have answered his phone. I bet the battery just died. Or at worst, it was stolen. It’s fine, we were going to get them new phones for college anyway.” His logic seemed to calm her down, but only for a moment. After another half hour with no sign of Ethan, she couldn’t take it anymore. “You all eat. I’m going home to check.” The mood was ruined. “Let’s all go,” my mom said, signaling the waiter. “We’ll get everything packed up. You guys go get the car.” 5 We all moved quickly. I took the credit card to the front desk to pay, my mind racing. Should I tell them the truth? But Aunt Clara was so fragile. I remembered in middle school, our teacher had assigned us study partners. Not long after, Aunt Clara had stormed into the school. “Ethan and Nora are best friends,” she’d demanded of the teacher. “Why would you pair him with another girl?” No matter how much the teacher explained it was based on academic strengths, she had stubbornly insisted he be reassigned to me. “I don’t trust anyone else with him,” she’d told my mother later. “His own grandmother accidentally spilled boiling water on his foot when he was a baby. I can’t risk someone having ill intentions.” Remembering all this, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. What would happen if she found out Ethan had ditched his family and turned off his phone, all for a girl she’d never even met? Lost in thought, I buckled myself into the car. A call came through from our gated community’s security office. Ethan wasn’t home. The cameras showed him leaving two hours ago. My dad hung up with the highway patrol. “They said there were six accidents this afternoon, but they were all minor fender-benders. No one named Ethan involved.” My hand hovered over my phone in my pocket. I pulled it out, then shoved it back in. Suddenly, Ethan’s dad, who was driving, yelled “Shit!” and swerved hard to the right. I was thrown against my mom, who was pressed against Aunt Clara. Then came a deafening, metallic crunch. When the ringing in my ears subsided, I opened my eyes. The world was upside down. A woman was peering at me through the shattered window. “Sweetie, don’t be scared!” she yelled. “We’re getting you out!” 6 The scene, which I had only ever witnessed in viral videos, was now my reality. People were rushing over from all directions, shouting as they tried to flip the car back over. But it was too heavy. “Smash the rest of the glass!” someone yelled. “We need to get them out now! That other car is electric, it could catch fire!” The ringing in my ears finally faded, and clarity returned. I struggled with my seatbelt. My mom and Aunt Clara were unconscious. I managed to unbuckle Aunt Clara first, and the strangers outside carefully pulled her from the wreckage. But my mom’s seatbelt was jammed, pulled terrifyingly tight against her chest. The more I panicked, the more tangled it became. The woman outside coached me, her voice loud and clear. “Slowly! Loosen the shoulder strap first, then the one across her lap. Now, try to slip it over her head!” I forced myself to calm down and followed her instructions step by step. Finally, my mom was free. Kind strangers pulled us both out and helped us to the sidewalk just as a man stumbled out of the electric car we’d collided with. Smoke began pouring from its engine. “Get back!” someone shouted. “The cars are too close, it’s gonna blow!” Sure enough, a few minutes later, flames erupted from the electric car and quickly spread to ours. Two massive, heat-filled explosions followed. The woman who had helped me ran over with a bottle of water. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice gentle. “Everyone is out. The ambulance is on its way.” 7 At the hospital, my mom, Aunt Clara, and I were all treated for minor injuries. We were shaken but coherent. But Ethan’s dad had been at the point of impact. He was still in the emergency room. Aunt Clara was sobbing as she tried to call Ethan’s phone again. “Where is he? Why is it still off?” I let go of my mom’s hand and pulled out my phone. I went straight to the forum. The OP, Krista, was still posting. [OP]: I confessed to him. He stroked my hair. [OP]: I transferred here our senior year, and it was love at first sight. I always felt like he was flirting with me, even before graduation. [OP]: The day college applications were due, I asked him if he wanted to go to school in New York with me. [OP]: He didn’t say it outright, but I know it. He likes me! I scrolled to the bottom and typed a reply. [Nora]: Tell Ethan to turn on his phone and call his family IMMEDIATELY. His parents were in a car accident. His dad is in surgery. The comment section exploded. [User5]: Wait… is this… the childhood friend? [User6]: Is this for real? They just confessed their love and now his parents are in a car crash? [User7]: Honey, take it from someone who’s been there: a man who wavers is not a man worth keeping.

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The day I had the miscarriage, my boyfriend disappeared. That night, his childhood best friend posted a picture of two marriage certificates, stamped with both of their faces. 【Officially on the road. From this day forward, through thick and thin.】 He commented instantly: “My first time. I’ll be gentle.” A flood of comments poured in, wishing them a lifetime of happiness. Some clueless colleagues even sent their wedding gift money to me. I gritted my teeth against the pain, refunded each one, and left a casual comment of my own: 【May you have a long and happy life together. And may you be blessed with children soon.】 The girl’s post was deleted in a second. And the phone call from my boyfriend, who’d been missing all day, came through immediately. “Are you insane? You made a young girl cry, and now you’re acting like you’re the damn wife already? I haven’t married you yet. Know your place.” Ten years together, and this kind of absurd drama had played out countless times. Every time he sobered up, he’d dismiss it as a drunken joke. It always ended the same way: with me breaking down in tears, then swallowing the thorn in my heart and carrying on. But this time, I was done. 1 When Ethan came back, I was still on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket. A gut-wrenching pain tore through my lower abdomen from the D&C procedure I’d just had. He didn’t even take off his coat before he started laying into me. “Vera, what the hell were you thinking with that comment last night?” “We all run in the same circles! Chloe is like a little sister to me, we grew up together!” “She’s a young girl, she has a reputation to think about! How is she supposed to face anyone now that people think she’s a homewrecker?” I said nothing, letting him rant. “To make it up to her, I’ve arranged a cushy job for her at the company. You need to post something to clear the air. Just say we broke up.” “Otherwise,” he threatened, “I can’t promise I’ll show up the next time we’re supposed to get our marriage license.” This was the 99th time Ethan had bailed on getting married. The first time, Chloe got her period and had cramps, so Ethan ditched me to go buy her pads. The second time, Chloe had a fever. He left me standing thirty miles away at the doors of City Hall and just turned around and left. The third time, she got scared watching a horror movie by herself in a theater and called him crying. The fifth time… The sixth… In the ten years we’d been together, Ethan had abandoned me ninety-nine times. This time was the one-hundredth. “Marriage license? We don’t need one anymore.” I let out a cold laugh, my gaze drifting calmly out the window. Only then did he seem to remember, his eyes flicking down to my stomach. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re pregnant. Here, have some hot soup. You must’ve caught a chill last night.” He handed me a takeout container with half a bowl of lukewarm chowder. A few pathetic shreds of shrimp and leftover celery floated on the surface. I lowered my eyes to my phone. Chloe had been relentlessly trying to add me as a friend since morning, over a dozen times. I’d ignored every request. Just a moment ago, however, Ethan had added me to a group chat with six people. It was him, his four childhood buddies, and Chloe—the only girl. The group’s name was “Chloe’s Knights.” The second I joined, Chloe sent a voice message. Her voice was thick with booze and tears. “Vera, please don’t misunderstand. Ethan and I were just joking around, we were drunk.” The others immediately chimed in. “What’s the big deal? Does our princess Chloe really have to apologize for this?” “Seriously. Someone’s got a princess complex, and it ain’t Chloe.” “We were all just messing around. We’ve known each other for years, are you really gonna get hung up on this?” “Don’t feel bad, Chloe. Apologize? For what? Does she even deserve it?” “If they were gonna sleep together, they would’ve done it years ago. It would’ve had nothing to do with you.” “Where’s Ethan? Is he dead or something? Letting a girl take the heat all by herself.” Chloe’s social media wasn’t private. Her latest post was a nine-photo grid, shining brightly on her feed. The caption was sickeningly sweet and proud: 【Just a newlywed. Is there anything better than a bowl of seafood chowder made by your husband’s own hands after a long, hard night? ~】 Ethan wasn’t looking at his phone. He was prying the lid off the takeout container. The fishy stench of overnight chowder filled the air. I’ve always been allergic to shellfish; the smell alone made me want to gag. “Ugh—” Ethan’s brow furrowed instantly. “What are you being so dramatic for? It’s just soup, you’re going to vomit?” “Even if you won’t drink it, you should think about the baby.” “There is no baby,” I replied, my voice cold and empty. Even as I fought to contain the inferno of hatred inside me, my knuckles turned white as I gripped the blanket. He froze, the casual confidence draining from his face, leaving only bewilderment. “What do you mean?” I stared out at the thick darkness beyond the window, not wanting to say another word. His face was pale. After a long moment, he looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. His voice softened as he knelt in front of me and began to explain. “Last night… Chloe’s boyfriend broke up with her. She wanted me to get a marriage license with her to piss him off.” “It’s just kids’ stuff, a game. We’ll get it annulled in a few days.” “After the New Year, we’ll go get our license! Don’t worry. We can always have another baby.” He took my hand, his long, elegant fingers wrapping around mine, and pressed his face into my palm. His full lips moved as he spoke, just beneath his strong nose. His thick lashes couldn’t hide the redness in his eyes. Ethan had been admired for his looks his whole life, which is how a looks-obsessed person like me ended up wasting a decade on him. I used to melt whenever he looked at me like this. But now… I felt nothing. “Don’t be upset. If you don’t want the chowder, I’ll take you out to eat.” He pulled me up, ready to leave. The moment he opened the passenger-side door of the car, a thick cloud of perfume hit me. A pair of pink, lacy panties, caught on the hem of my coat, dangled in the air. Ethan’s face went white. “Chloe… she insisted on changing into a dress yesterday to get the license. It was late, there was nowhere else to change, so I just…” I showed no reaction. He, on the other hand, was squirming. He shot me a look and promised again, “I’ll clean it up. Next week. The second City Hall opens on Monday, I’ll take her to get this annulled.” The car was dead silent. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. His brow creased in frustration as his hand, which had been gripping the steering wheel, reached for a cigarette and lit it. Through the haze of smoke, his impatience finally spilled out. “Anyone who knew would think you lost a baby. Anyone who didn’t would think you’d gone mute.” “Are you angry or not? Can’t you say a single goddamn word?” 2 I forced a faint smile. My eyes landed on the sticker plastered on the passenger-side dashboard: “Princess Chloe’s Royal Seat.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Last night, while I was miscarrying, my best friend sent me a TikTok. “Vera, doesn’t this car look like Ethan’s?” In the photo, Chloe had her bare feet up on the dash. Beside them sat a bouquet of red roses and a diamond ring. The caption accompanying the three Live Photos read: 【Twenty-two and living my best life in the passenger seat of a Benz.】 【Shoutout to the woman who spent countless rides on the back of his scooter. Glad I never had to go through that.】 It was true. For ten years, I rode on the back of Ethan’s scooter. We fought our way up from nothing, scrimped and saved for so long, and finally decided to buy our own car before the wedding. This car was brand new. Yesterday was the first time I was supposed to ride in it. But because of one phone call from Chloe, he left me stranded on the way to get our marriage license. The December drizzle was freezing into icy needles. I slipped and fell on the side of the road as a dark crimson stain spread from between my legs. He was off with his “best friend,” getting their joke marriage license, and didn’t come home all night. My body was already incredibly weak from the blood loss. Now, a fresh wave of red was beginning to seep through. My face pale, I pushed the car door open and started walking back to the apartment. Ethan, knowing he was in the wrong, followed me with his head down. “I’ll stay with you.” He helped me onto the sofa, drew a basin of hot water to soak my feet, washed fruit for me, and cut it into neat slices. Attentive, as always. I could hardly tell if the man before me now and the man from last night were the same person. He used to be this considerate, this perfect, in every way. Until he made it big. Then, photos of him with other women started appearing on my phone. He always insisted he was innocent, and he’d fire the women who came onto him or avoid them completely. But getting married was delayed again and again. A woman’s best years are fleeting. Ten of mine had passed. And finally, I didn’t want him anymore. In the middle of the night, I lay with my back to him, my abdomen wracked with unbearable pain. As it intensified, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stumbled out of bed and called a cab to go to the hospital. “What’s wrong? I’ll take you.” Ethan, surprisingly, was awake. He shot up and grabbed my coat for me. In the dead of night, his phone suddenly began to ring, shrill and insistent. He always put his calls on speaker when I was around. Chloe’s tear-filled voice cut through the darkness. “Honey, I wanted to make you soup, but I cut my finger… there’s so much blood… I’m so scared, boo-hoo.” The coat slipped from Ethan’s hand. His face changed. “Does it hurt? I told you not to mess around in the kitchen, you don’t know how to cook!” “I’m coming right now. You just be good!” The endearment and scolding came out so naturally. As he finished, he instinctively glanced at me, but he couldn’t read my expression. “Vera, we just got the license, Chloe isn’t used to it yet. Don’t mind her, she’s just a kid, she’s playing around.” “I need to go to the hospital.” The pain was so intense my vision was blackening. I instinctively clutched his sleeve. He hesitated. But the texts on his phone were coming in one after another. Chloe’s soft sobs were crystal clear, each one like a needle pricking at Ethan’s heart. The look of profound concern was written all over his face. My hand was forcefully shoved away. In agony, I tried to grab him again, but I was blocking his frantic escape. “Get out of the way!” He gave me a hard shove. I stumbled and fell against the wardrobe. A heavy vase toppled off and crashed squarely into my stomach. The metallic taste of blood immediately filled my mouth. “Ethan, don’t go.” But he didn’t even look back at me. He grabbed his coat, struggling into it as he unleashed his fury on me. “Vera, will you give it a rest?” “Didn’t you hear Chloe is hurt? Why are you picking a fight with a girl seven years younger than you?” “She got hurt trying to do something for me! How can you be so vicious? Do you want her to bleed out before you’re satisfied?” I was in too much pain to speak, gasping for every breath. He was still yelling. “So she took your spot as the bride for a day, is that why you’re trying to get revenge?” “You’re almost thirty, an old woman. What’s the big deal about waiting one more day? You’ve waited ten years, you can’t wait a little longer now?” He saw me struggling to my feet, saw the bright red blood pooling beneath me. He froze for a second, then his brow furrowed in disgust. “Are you serious? You’d hurt yourself just to keep me here? Have some goddamn dignity.” “The keys. Your car keys.” My words cut him off. I threw the object in my hand at his feet. Ethan was completely speechless. His expression turned awkward. After a silent second, his lips moved, and he spoke softly. “Wait for me. I… I’ll be back soon.” He turned and fled, not even bothering to put his coat on properly, his heart clearly somewhere else. By the time the sky began to lighten, he still hadn’t returned. I must have passed out for a while. When I came to, I found myself lying on the freezing floor, not knowing how long I’d been there. Dark red had soaked through my pants. I fought back the rising panic and the sour sting in my heart, and slowly, painfully, dragged myself to the front door. I knocked on my neighbor’s door. “Oh my God, Vera!” Her scream was the last thing I heard before I collapsed. 3 When I opened my eyes, I was in a cold hospital room, undergoing a D&C. It felt like a pair of icy tongs were inside me, scraping mercilessly at the walls of my womb. It was a pain that felt like my bones were being carved out, my flesh stripped away. A cold sweat beaded on my forehead. In the midst of the agony, my phone rang. It was my best friend. “Vera, is Ethan home?” she asked, her tone hesitant. “I think I can hear his voice next door… and the sounds are, well… let’s just say they’re not just talking.” My best friend lived next door to Chloe. The hand holding my phone fell limp against the bed. I stared at the harsh fluorescent light overhead for what felt like an eternity, long enough for it to burn away the moisture in the corners of my eyes. That half hour was the longest of my life. It ended when I heard the doctor say, “There’s a risk of further hemorrhaging. We didn’t get everything.” I finally left that room. As I sat alone in the recovery ward, a girl who looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, her eyes red, handed me a tissue. “Here, miss.” I wiped my tears, my mind a complete blank. This baby was an unexpected gift this year. After my mother passed away, I was utterly alone in the world, with no family left. Since then, I’ve yearned for a family of my own, for someone who belonged to me. For this child, I had gone through countless rounds of IVF, choked down bitter medicines. I knew the sooner I could carry a child to term, the safer it would be. So I persevered. The blue and purple bruises from the injections on my stomach would barely fade before new ones appeared. But now, that child was nothing more than a mangled mess of blood and tissue. When the doctor showed me the basin, the tears I had been holding back streamed down my face. The family I had dreamed of for so long was now just a bowl of bloody water. Six years of effort, all washed away. Swallowing the suffocating pain, I took a cab home. I was going to pack my things and leave the home Ethan and I shared. But as I was packing, I realized my mother’s wedding dress was gone. It was the last thing she had left me. Two years ago, before she died of cancer, she told me her biggest regret was not being able to see my wedding. She couldn’t be there, but she hoped one day I would wear this dress to walk toward my own happiness. I searched the apartment like a madwoman, but the dress was nowhere to be found. Ethan’s phone went straight to voicemail. As I collapsed in a storm of tears, my best friend called again. “Vera, you have to see this local video! Why is Ethan having a wedding with someone else?!” My frantic search stopped. I forced down my panic and clicked the link she sent. The image that filled my screen shattered my heart. In the video, Ethan was walking Chloe down an aisle on a lawn at the Garden Hotel. Chloe, clutching a bouquet, was smiling shyly. And she was wearing my mother’s wedding dress. My vision went black. Rage and pain tore through my chest. Ethan, how dare you? By the time I reached the hotel, Chloe was planting a kiss on Ethan’s cheek. SMACK! I slapped her across the face with all my strength. “You thieving bitch!” “Ah!” “Ethan, she hit me! Waaaah…” Chloe clutched her face, her eyes instantly welling up with tears as she ducked behind Ethan. Ethan’s buddies were all there. Their faces darkened, and they formed a protective circle around her, glaring at me like a pack of wolves. “You crazy bitch, do you know whose turf you’re on? You dare hit Chloe?!” Ethan’s expression was thunderous. He stormed over to me, looking as if I had personally humiliated him in front of the world. He gave me a hard shove. “Vera! Will you give it a rest?” “Look around you! Chloe’s friends and colleagues are all here!” “She has a marriage license with me now, you think we could just not have a wedding?” “I’m just going through the motions with her, it’s all an act! Did you really have to come here and make a scene?!” 4 “I don’t care who you marry, but you should never, ever have desecrated my mother’s wedding dress!” Ethan’s eyes darted away, his righteous anger faltering as he stammered out an explanation. “Vera, just let me explain.” “Chloe saw the dress when she came over. She’s just a curious kid. She was just borrowing it to wear for a bit, she was going to give it right back.” “Can’t you be a little less petty?” Seeing the fire in my eyes, he took a deep breath and spoke in a tone of forced patience. “At least she’s walking down the aisle with me in it. Isn’t that what your mom would have wanted? What’s the big deal?” I could have shattered my own teeth from clenching my jaw so hard. I was stunned by his shamelessness. I saw Ethan’s friends glaring at me, ready to pounce. Getting Chloe to take off the dress willingly was impossible. Ethan was shielding her, looking at me as if I were the one being completely unreasonable. From the crowd, I could hear Chloe’s colleagues and friends whispering. The voices were just loud enough for me to hear every word. “Who is this mistress? Some old woman acting so shameless, trying to steal the bride’s dress.” “Exactly. Look at her, she’s so washed up. Ethan is one of the top execs in Crestwood. You think he’d ever be interested in her?” Seeing that I wasn’t leaving, Chloe clung to Ethan, crying her eyes out. But the look she shot me over his shoulder was pure, triumphant arrogance. I raised my phone to my ear. “Hello, I’d like to report a theft. My wedding dress, valued at twenty thousand dollars, is currently being worn by the thief.” “What are you talking about?! Who’s a thief?!” “Ethan, look at her!” Chloe’s face turned pale with fear. She ripped the dress off in a panic. “Vera, don’t say things like that! I’ll take the dress off, fine! If I’d known it belonged to a dead person, I would’ve thrown it out ages ago.” She tossed the dress at me with disgust, and in the process, “accidentally” knocked over a platter of gravy. Instantly, several dogs brought by the guests swarmed it, tearing and biting at the fabric. The beautiful wedding dress was instantly covered in filth, ripped to shreds by the dogs. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. I lunged forward, grabbed her by the hair, and slapped her again, hard! Chloe fell to the ground, wailing. “My ear! It hurts so much, I can’t hear anything, Ethan!” Ethan’s eyes filled with concern. He rushed over, scooped her up, and stepped right on my hand as I reached for a piece of the shredded dress. “Will you ever stop, Vera?! It’s just a stupid dress!” he roared. “Chloe’s a musician! If her hearing is damaged, what’s she supposed to do with her life?!” “Is a dead person more important than the living?!” I stared at him in disbelief. Ethan was an orphan my mother had sponsored. She supported him his whole life; she even funded his first company. Now that she was gone, she was just “a dead person” to him. He must have realized what he’d said. His tone softened. “Vera, I didn’t mean it like that.” “I’m taking Chloe to the hospital first. When I get back, I’ll get this marriage annulled.” “Next month, on the anniversary of your mother’s passing, we’ll get our license.” He rubbed his temples, looking utterly exhausted. “I’ll buy you a new dress. Just pretend I’m the one who ruined it. Stop making a scene, okay?” “Twenty thousand dollars. Not a penny less,” I said, my voice ice-cold as I looked at the sobbing Chloe. Ethan’s face went completely dark. “Twenty thousand? We’re supposed to be family. Have you not had enough drama for one day?” “If you keep this up, then maybe we shouldn’t get married at all.” I knew Ethan’s liquid cash was all tied up in the stock market. Chloe didn’t have any money. He wanted to play the hero, but coming up with twenty thousand dollars would be like pulling teeth. Too bad it wasn’t my life on the line. I gathered the tattered remains of the dress, looking from the fragile damsel in his arms to Ethan’s pale, strained face. I announced, my voice devoid of emotion, “I’ve already filed a police report for the damaged dress. And also, Vera Song doesn’t want cheap, second-hand goods. Remember, I’m the one dumping you.” “Consider the twenty-thousand-dollar bill my wedding gift to you.” “I wish you and your best friend a long and happy life together.”

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After my boyfriend stormed out over the litter box (again), I didn’t chase him. This time, I just stood there— —until text flooded my vision: 【He’s waiting right outside!】 【Open the door and he’ll cook for you】 【He’s insecure! Just say ‘I love you’ and he’d die for you】 【Hurry! He’s digging nails into his palms!】 My hand hovered over the knob… Then my phone buzzed: “We’re done. Be gone when I’m back.” “Okay.” 1 I put my phone down, wiped my tears, and pulled out my suitcase. 【Oh, he’s just being difficult. He’s dying to come back and make up with her, but he’s too proud to admit it. Is this what insecurity looks like?】 【Yeah, his parents divorced when he was a kid and they both remarried right away. He was basically abandoned. Chloe knows all this! Why is she actually packing? Honey, don’t! He loves you so much, how will he live without you?】 【Don’t listen to a word he says when he’s angry! If you just open the door, he’ll come back wagging his tail. Don’t really pack your things! What will he do if you leave?】 【There is no one on this earth who loves you more than him! You were together through high school, all four years of college, you were supposed to get married! Don’t do this, you’re his whole world! What about him? What about Jellybean?】 I ignored the floating text and started packing. I’d lost count of how many times this had happened. Every time he broke up with me, he told me to move out. And every time we made up, he’d cling to me, all sweet and clingy, and tell me he didn’t mean it. I remember the first time Chad told me to leave. I was terrified. We were supposed to go on a trip the next day, so I’d stayed late at work to make sure everything was handled. I wanted to be able to relax and enjoy our vacation. But to Chad, my working late meant I didn’t care about our trip. He wouldn’t listen to my explanations. He didn’t care that I’d gotten home at eleven and hadn’t even had dinner. He just shoved my suitcase at me and slammed the door in my face. No matter how much I begged and explained through the door, he wouldn’t open it. I stood outside in the hallway all night, starving. It was the middle of winter, and he’d pushed me out without even letting me grab a coat. I shivered uncontrollably, but he never once came out to check on me. If my neighbor hadn’t found me passed out from low blood sugar and pounded on the door until Chad finally came out, who knows what would have happened. That time, Chad had been scared to death. When I woke up, he swore up and down, promising me, “Chloe, I love you so much.” “If I say things when I’m angry, you can’t take them seriously, okay?” “You know how insecure I am. If you just give me that sense of security, I’ll be fine.” And I believed him. So, every time we fought after that and he told me to leave, I knew he was just saying it out of anger. I knew he was difficult. I knew he was insecure. I made my entire life revolve around him. But now… I was just so tired. Eight years. Eight years of me always being the one to give in, of being kicked out every time he got mad. I was done. 2 It didn’t take long to pack. I made myself a cup of instant noodles. I felt a tug at my ankle and looked down. It was Jellybean. The moment I knelt, she jumped into my lap. Jellybean originally belonged to one of Chad’s junior classmates in college. The girl had gotten bored of her after two weeks. Chad brought her home, and she became my responsibility. Cleaning the litter box, taking her for baths, shots, deworming—it was all on me. And if I was ever late with any of it, Chad would give me a cold look and say, “I only brought her home because you said you liked her. When did you become so irresponsible, Chloe?” This time, the fight had started because I hadn’t changed her litter box and the apartment smelled. As I ate my noodles, I scrolled through my phone and saw that his old classmate had posted on her feed. 【QAQ, my poor, homeless senior. I guess I can take you in for a bit. (๑>ᴗ<๑)】 The picture was a half-shot of Chad in a bar, holding a drink. 【Poor guy. See? He’s drunk, but his eyes are glued to his phone. He’s still thinking about her!!】 【Don’t be mad, Chloe! He’s just trying to make you jealous by having her over. He doesn’t like her at all, she’s just a pawn!】 【Yeah, look at him, he’s about to burn a hole through his phone with his eyes. Just send him one text and he’ll come running back like a puppy.】 Before I could finish reading, a video came through from an unknown number. In the video, Chad was leaning against a woman’s chest, his eyes closed. “Chad,” the woman cooed, “if you spend the night at my place, do you think your girlfriend will finally leave you?” Chad scoffed. “Give her a couple of days. She’ll be begging me to come back.” The woman giggled. “So she’s a clingy one, huh? The kind you can’t get rid of?” I held my breath. And then I heard Chad’s low murmur. “Yeah.” The video ended there. I stared at the noodles in front of me, but I couldn’t take another bite. So that’s what it was. All my concessions, all my attempts to understand him… to him, and to everyone else, I was just a pathetic girl who would come running whenever he called. A doormat. I looked at the noodles, now cold, a layer of grease congealing on the surface. It was disgusting. 3 Eight years of my life, and all that was left was one small suitcase. “Meow, meow…” Jellybean seemed to sense something was wrong and latched onto my pant leg. I hesitated. But I had been the one taking care of her for the past year. Chad clearly didn’t want the responsibility. I scooped her up and took her with me. It was two in the morning by the time I checked into a hotel. The next morning, I was already browsing apartment listings. Within an hour, I found a small studio near my office. It was tiny, but it would cut my commute by almost an hour each way. When we first graduated, we lived somewhere else. But Chad was a heavy sleeper. I could never wake him up in the morning, and he’d been reprimanded at work twice for being late. I was the one who suggested we move closer to his office. Back then, I thought love could conquer all. An extra hour on the train didn’t matter, as long as it made his life easier. Later, when his startup took off, he bought a condo near his new office. We’d been there for three years. Now, all that time I spent commuting would be mine again. I moved into the new apartment that day. “Chloe, you’re still here? You’re going to miss the last train,” a coworker reminded me as I was working late. I shook my head, my eyes on the unfinished report. “It’s okay, I moved closer to the office. I’ll go home when I’m done.” “Wow! Chloe, you finally did it?” My coworkers had been telling me for ages that wasting two hours a day on a train was insane. After work, a few of us went out for a late dinner to celebrate my new place. I got home exhausted and fell straight into bed. The next day, just as I was leaving the office, I got a text from one of Chad’s friends. 【Hey, did you and Chad have a fight? He’s at my place, completely wasted.】 I hesitated for a moment. 【We didn’t fight. We broke up.】 He immediately replied with a voice message, his tone lecturing. 4 “Come on, Chloe, that’s not fair. You know what he’s like. How many times has he said you were breaking up? How many times did he actually mean it?” “You used to be so understanding. Why are you being so stubborn this time?” “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you come over now and say a few nice words, he’ll probably cool down and go home with you.” “But if you don’t, and he actually decides to end things for real, you’ll be the one crying.” It was laughable. After all these years, even his friends were convinced I couldn’t live without him. Before I could reply, he hung up. Then, he sent an address. I blocked the number. They were Chad’s friends, not mine. Now that we were broken up, there was no reason to keep them in my life. 【Is she really angry? He was just giving her an out by having his friend call. Couples shouldn’t stay mad at each other.】 【Yeah, that’s just his personality. He’s difficult, but he’s crazy about her. He even gave up his dream college to go to the same one as her. She’s just upset right now. He’s already thrown up three times, he’s going to hurt himself.】 【Is it just me, or is he being a total drama queen? Why is it that when a girl acts like this, she’s being dramatic, but when a guy does it, he’s just ‘difficult’ and ‘insecure’? It’s just as annoying.】 I saw that last comment and couldn’t help but smile bitterly. They were right. Chad was a drama queen. It wasn’t so bad when we first started dating. But after he gave up his dream school for me, he became more and more demanding. Every time we fought, if I didn’t immediately grovel, one of his friends would call. They’d remind me of his great sacrifice, and ask me how I could be so cruel. How could I live with myself? But when we were applying to college, I told him over and over that I was fine with a long-distance relationship. That no matter how far apart we were, he would always be the most important person in my life. But he insisted on applying to the same school as me. When I saw his application, I asked him again and again if he was sure, if this was what he really wanted. He didn’t say a word. The day after the application deadline, he got blackout drunk. His friends called me, accusing me of forcing him to go to the same school as me. That’s when I found out that our university hadn’t been his first choice. But by then, I was so moved by his gesture. I rushed over and took him home. But for years after that, every time he was unhappy, every time he acted out, his friends would blame me. They’d list all the things he’d given up for me. After a while, I got tired of hearing it. It was like I was forever indebted to him for that one decision. “Chloe, come on, let’s go eat.” 5 It was a late night at the office, and everyone was too tired to order in. So, we decided to go out for a late dinner. In the past, I rarely joined them because I lived so far away and was afraid of missing the last train. But now that they knew I lived nearby, they insisted I come. I figured I had nothing better to do, so I went along. There were five or six of us. We went to a popular restaurant, and then to a bar. As soon as we sat down, I noticed a noisy group at the table next to ours. I glanced over and saw Chad and his friends. And of course, his little shadow, Lila, was there too. “Chad, you lost! Kiss someone in the bar for three minutes! Go, go, go!” They were playing truth or dare. My eyes met Chad’s for a split second. I looked away without a second thought. Chad seemed to pause for a moment before he drawled, “Fine.” A cheer went up from his table. “Wow, Chad’s actually playing along tonight! Who are you gonna pick? Hahahaha!” Someone teased, “We’re all guys here. He’s obviously gonna pick Lila. Unless you want a turn?!” “Oh, you guys!” Lila said, covering her face shyly. “Come on, Chad, you lost! Pick someone now, or I’m gonna have to volunteer!” “Hahahahaha, Chad, your virtue is at stake!” The noise from their table was getting louder. And the text in my vision started up again. 【What is she doing? Can’t she see he’s looking at her? He doesn’t want to kiss anyone else, he’s only thinking about her!】 【Yeah, he still hasn’t been home, he has no idea she’s moved out. He’s waiting for her to give in. Don’t be stubborn now! What if he actually kisses the other girl?】 【He’s not saying anything because he’s waiting for her to react. If she just looks at him, she doesn’t even have to go over, just one look, and he’ll come over and kiss her. He won’t even look at anyone else.】 I took a sip of my drink. As I put the glass down, it slipped and tipped over. “Oh, Chloe, are you okay? It spilled!” a coworker said, flagging down a waiter. Our commotion caught the attention of the next table. The noisy group fell silent. Several people looked over at me. Lila stood up and marched over to our table. 6 “Chloe, he’s just out with his friends. Do you have to be so clingy?” My coworkers, who had never met Chad or Lila, looked at me, confused. “Chloe, do you know her?” I smiled. “Nope.” Lila’s face fell. “You…” “Lila, get back here!” Chad’s cold voice cut across the room. Lila shot me a disdainful look, huffed, and stomped back to her table. It was quiet for a moment. Then, Chad’s voice rang out again. “What? Are we not playing anymore?” That seemed to snap everyone out of their trance. “Hahaha, forget it, Chad, just take a shot…” “Holy shit!” “No way!” “Oh, Chad, you’re actually doing it…” I heard a series of gasps and exclamations from the next table and couldn't help but look over. Chad had one hand on the back of Lila’s head, and they were kissing. At first, it might have just been for show. But then Lila wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. And Chad, he seemed to get into it. When they finally broke apart, a thin string of saliva connected their lips. My face went pale. I looked away. Even though we were broken up, even though I had told myself to move on, seeing him with Lila still felt like a punch to the gut. Like a hand squeezing my heart. It was a sharp, piercing pain. I excused myself, saying I wasn’t feeling well, and left the bar. I know it was pathetic. I know I was a coward. But seeing that, all I wanted to do was run. I guess my withdrawal period wasn’t over yet. But I knew, with absolute certainty, that Chad and I were done for good. They say it only takes seven days to break a habit. I would get through this.

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The intern was being rough on purpose, making my wife cry out just so I could hear. The next day, he swaggered out of the room next door, a constellation of hickies on his neck, and smirked at me. “So what if Aurora legally married you, Ian?” he taunted. “She’s still having a wedding with me, isn’t she?” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, and I recorded it last night. Want me to send you a copy?” I stared at him for a beat, then a slow smile spread across my face. “Here’s the difference between you and me,” I said. “I’m not into sloppy seconds.” The intern choked, his face flushing with anger before he stormed off. Moments later, Aurora burst in, her face a mask of fury. “I told you the wedding was fake! What the hell are you saying?” she seethed. “Now look what you’ve done. Nicholas’s having a depressive episode, threatening to cut his wrists. Are you happy now?” Her voice was sharp, a weapon. “You will record a video apology. Right now. Post it on your feed, and once he forgives you, then maybe I’ll consider giving you a proper wedding.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Forget it. Let’s just get a divorce.” 1 “A divorce?” Aurora looked at me as if I’d just told the funniest joke in the world, one eyebrow arched in disbelief. “Drank a little too much champagne today, Ian? Did it fry your brain?” Her eyes raked over me, dripping with a contempt she didn’t bother to hide. “Let’s get one thing straight. Without the halo of ‘Aura & Associates,’ what is the name ‘Ian’ even worth in this city?” She took a step closer. “Who gave you the platform? Who gave you the chance to climb this high? Have you forgotten?” she sneered. “Without the ‘Aura’ brand, without the resources I handed you, you’d probably still be a glorified paralegal at some back-alley firm, chasing down pennies for chump change cases!” My hands, hanging at my sides, clenched into fists, the knuckles turning bone-white. Who gave me the platform? Right. As if my sacrifices meant nothing. The seed money for the firm? I mortgaged everything I owned. Those impossible, top-tier clients? I landed them, one by one, through sheer grit. The landmark cases that defined our firm’s reputation? I led the team, bled for them through sleepless nights and endless days. That plaque on the wall, the one naming us one of the ‘Top Ten Law Firms in the Nation’—I built that with my own sweat and blood. And now she was saying I was just riding her coattails? A white-hot rage shot through me, so intense it twisted into a grim smile. “So you and Nicholas get to play Romeo and Juliet on stage, and I don’t even have the right to ask for a divorce?” “Shut up!” Aurora’s voice cracked like a whip. “Nicholas’s family was trying to set him up with a woman in her fifties. I was helping him out of a jam. Do you have any idea how social obligations work?” “And now you’ve pushed him to the edge! If anything happens to him, can you bear that responsibility?” What had I done? Even a genuine depressive episode didn’t work like this. Looking at the face I once loved, all I felt was a bone-deep weariness, a cold, crushing sense of absurdity. “Is he really that fragile?” I asked, my voice flat. The whole performance was so clumsy, anyone with eyes could see through it. But Aurora was a true believer. “Drop the sarcastic act, Ian,” she said, her eyes like chips of ice. “I’m warning you. If Nicholas suffers any real harm, I swear I’ll call the cops. Verbal abuse, emotional distress, defamation—go ahead and try me. See how well your career holds up after that.” The cops. Ha. The bitter taste of ash filled my mouth. In her eyes, I was worth less than a stray dog on the street. She took a deep breath, visibly forcing her anger down, and issued her final command. “Right now. This instant. Record a sincere apology. Post it to your social media so everyone can see you mean it.” She paused, as if bestowing upon me a great mercy. “Once he’s calmed down and he’s willing to accept your apology… I’ll consider arranging an even grander ceremony to make it up to you.” A grander ceremony. That phrase had been a siren song, a curse that had haunted me for eight years. When the firm is stable… she’d said when we started. After we land this big project… she’d promised later. Once we make the Top Ten list… I waited and waited, only to watch her stand in the spotlight with another man on her arm. And now, she expected me to keep waiting, like a beggar hoping for scraps. The toxic resentment I’d swallowed for eight years finally detonated in my chest, the force of it stealing my breath. I was so tired. Done waiting. “An apology?” A humorless smile touched my lips, my voice clear and cold as a winter morning. “Maybe in the next life.” Without a second glance at her stunned face, I turned on my heel and walked away. “Ian! You get back here!” she shrieked behind me. I didn’t hear her. My steps never faltered. The moment I stepped out of the hotel, the cold wind hit me like a slap. As I walked toward the parking lot, a figure darted out from the shadows. “Mr. Archer! Finally caught you!” It was Mark, an assistant, panting as he shoved a heavy document box into my arms. “Here. The ‘Skyreach Merger’ case! Ms. Rose just gave the order. She said you’re to take full responsibility. The first draft of the legal opinion is due by midnight. The client is waiting.” I steadied the box, my brow furrowing. “Isn’t this Nicholas’s case? Why are you giving it to me?” Mark smirked, his tone dripping with disdain. “Nicholas? Please. He’s busy playing the ‘newlywed.’ He doesn’t have time for a ten-billion-dollar grind like this. Ms. Rose said she needed a ‘workhorse’ like you to step up.” He emphasized the word “workhorse,” his eyes flicking over me. “Her exact words were, ‘Have Ian handle it immediately.’” Looking at his smug face, I almost laughed. Skyreach. The beast of a case I’d spent six months wrestling to the ground, the one that gave me a bleeding ulcer but ultimately secured our spot at the top. The crown jewel. Nicholas had idly mentioned he wanted to “give it a try,” and Aurora had just handed it over. A goddamn intern who couldn’t even write a proper due diligence report was suddenly capable of handling a multi-billion-dollar merger. And now, they wanted to toss it back to me? Newlywed? What a fucking joke. “She told me to take it, so I have to take it?” I slammed the box back into his chest, my voice hard as steel. “You go tell Aurora that I am not touching this case.” Mark stumbled back, his face twisting in fury. “Mr. Archer! Don’t be ungrateful…” “You’re the one who doesn’t know his place!” All the pent-up rage erupted at once. I swung my arm, sending the box—the culmination of countless hours of my life—flying. A snowstorm of papers exploded into the night, dancing madly in the wind. Mark leaped back, his finger pointing at me, trembling. “Ian! You… you’re insane! Are you trying to get blacklisted?!” I gave him a chilling smile. “This place? I’ve been done with it for a long time.” Without another glance, I wrenched my car door open. The engine roared to life, tearing a hole in the night’s silence. Back at the cold, empty apartment. I didn’t bother with the lights, letting the neon glow from the city outside illuminate the space as I packed my last few things. Clothes, books, personal effects… everything I owned here fit into a single suitcase. The doorbell buzzed, sharp and sudden. It was a courier. “Urgent delivery for Ms. Aurora Rose. Sign here.” The delivery guy handed me a thin paper mailer and was gone. The address was right, the recipient was Aurora. But what was inside? A knot of dread tightened in my gut. I tore open the seal. My mind went blank. The blood in my veins turned to ice. Inside the bag were several boxes of ultra-thin, imported condoms and a piece of black lace lingerie so sheer it was practically transparent. It lay there, a stark, damning piece of evidence. “Ha…” A broken, dry laugh forced its way out of my throat. Just this morning, it was a “fake wedding.” Tonight, they were already stocking up for their honeymoon. The last, dying ember of hope in my heart was finally extinguished. I crushed the bag in my fist, the plastic groaning under the pressure. My phone screen lit up, Aurora’s name flashing frantically. I stared at the blinding light for a few seconds before swiping to answer, my movements stiff and robotic. Her shrill voice stabbed through the receiver. “Ian! How dare you throw the Skyreach files?! Are you looking for a fight?!” “The legal opinion better be in my inbox by midnight! Do you understand me?” She spoke with such entitlement, as if the drama from earlier had never happened. The sheer absurdity of it made my temples throb. “Why should I?” “Because I am the founding partner! And I am your wife!” Her voice shot up, the rage practically melting the phone. “Getting bold, are we, Ian? You think you can defy me?” “You want to see what happens? I’ll call a partners’ meeting tomorrow and have you demoted from senior partner to intern assistant! See how you like that!” “Hah.” Eight years of my life, my soul poured into this firm, and my name wasn’t even on the goddamn letterhead. All I got was the hollow title of “senior partner.” What a fucking joke.

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The night before my promotion, my girlfriend gave my deal to her protégé. “What the hell?” I demanded. “We’re done,” she said, slamming the door. I nearly chased her—until floating text appeared: She’s downstairs regretting it! Call her and she’ll come back! Look, she’s biting her lip! Just call! I pulled back the curtains. The street was empty. Then I saw her post: a photo with Jason blowing out birthday candles. Eight years wasted. I trashed her gift and texted: 【$1M/year. I can start in 3 days.】 The reply came instantly: 【Deal.】 1 A wave of relief washed over me as I read the confirmation. I immediately started packing. But the text appeared in my vision again. No, no, no, sweetie, don’t say things you don’t mean. The only reason she’s not waiting for you is because you didn’t text. Jason called and said his power went out, so she went to help. That cake was for you, he just didn’t know and ate it himself. Don’t break up! She hasn’t seen your message yet. Quick, delete it, delete it, delete it! She cleared her entire schedule just to spend her birthday with you, and then you didn’t even get home until eleven. If you suddenly break up with her, she’ll lose her mind. Yeah, her mom passed away on her birthday when she was a kid. That’s why she gets so anxious this time of year, terrified that the people she loves will leave her. You’ve always been so understanding about that, haven’t you? Just hang in there a little longer, okay? I looked away from the words. My hands were still trembling as I folded my clothes. She knew. She knew how hard I’d worked for this deal. How many fake smiles I’d plastered on, how much liquor I’d forced down. To land this client, I’d even spent a month picking up his kindergartener from school every single day. The kid was a brat and told the neighbors I was the hired help. I felt my face burn with shame, but I gritted my teeth and endured it. It was a done deal. And then, I got the text. The client was giving the account to Jason. “Look, Mr. Chen, my hands were tied. When we were signing the contracts, your CEO, Miss Lin, specifically said the account had to go to a Mr. Jason Zhou. I’m really… sorry about this.” Reading that message, I felt my blood turn to ice. I rushed home to confront her, to ask her why. All she gave me was a cold glance before walking out. If it weren’t for those floating comments, I wouldn’t have even known why she did it. She was always like this. The slightest disagreement, and she’d threaten to break up. Tell me to get out. The first time, I believed her. I was heartbroken for weeks. When I finally couldn’t take it anymore and sent her a long, rambling apology essay, she appeared at my door in an instant. She held me tight. “Sean, anything I say when I’m angry doesn’t count.” “Promise me you’ll never leave me, no matter what I say. Okay?” “I say the opposite of what I mean. Every time I say we’re done, it’s because I need you to love me more.” “Sean, I can’t live without you.” That night, we went through an entire box of condoms. In the past, when she acted out, when she constantly threatened to leave, I could chalk it up to her insecurity. I forgave her time and time again, coaxed her back from the edge. But why this? Why would she do this to me now? At the most critical moment of my career. After seeing everything I had sacrificed. How could she so easily wipe away all my hard work? How could she use my future, the one thing she knew I cared about most, as a weapon to make me bow to her? Lily. Did it ever occur to you? That I can get hurt, too. That I can get tired. That eventually, I just can’t do it anymore. 2 I used to see Lily as the center of my universe. It started in high school. The year her mother passed away right after her birthday. She fell apart. With college entrance exams looming, she started skipping school, spending her days and nights in smoky internet cafes. To get her back on track, I was with her every day. My pleas fell on deaf ears. Until one night, I was following her home from the cafe when a homeless man grabbed her, trying to drag her into the bushes. I almost beat the man to death. That was the night she clung to me and whispered, “Sean, never leave me.” Feeling her warm breath on my neck, I made a promise. On that summer night when I was eighteen, I engraved her words onto my heart. And I meant them. I gave up my dream university to follow her to a humid city in the south. She took over her family’s business, while I started at the bottom, quietly working my way up. I wanted to build myself into someone who could stand beside her as an equal. But now… it was all just a bitter joke. 3 I finished packing and went to the apartment I’d rented months ago. I remembered the last time Lily had a meltdown. It was because I was eating a pungent noodle dish at home. She finds the smell revolting. I thought she was out of town, so I indulged. But she came home early, holding a bouquet of lilies, and the moment she smelled the noodles, she flew into a rage. She accused me of not considering her feelings, of not loving her at all. She threw my suitcase out the door. No matter how much I knocked, she wouldn’t open it. I ended up having to rent a place nearby. The next day, I sent her another long apology essay. It took three days of begging before she finally softened. It wasn’t the first time she’d kicked me out. Maybe, subconsciously, I’d already lost my sense of security. That’s why I never terminated the lease. It certainly came in handy today. This time, I didn’t even have to look for a place. 4 The next morning, I went to the office with my resignation letter in hand. The elevator doors opened to a loud POP! A shower of confetti rained down on me. I stood there, stunned, as my colleagues swarmed around me. “Alright, Sean, where are you taking us for lunch? I’ve had my eye on that new Japanese place for ages. You’re buying today!” “Yeah, our new Director has to treat us!” I opened my mouth to tell them it wasn’t a sure thing yet, but the elevator doors dinged open again. I glanced back. It was Lily and Jason. “Well, well. Celebrating before the promotion is even official, Sean?” Jason smirked, his eyes, full of mock amusement, landing on me. “See, Miss Lin? Told you he’d do anything to get ahead. Am I right?” The last part was directed at Lily. Lily’s face was a cold mask. She didn’t even look at me. “Everyone, gather around. I have an announcement.” My heart sank. I took a step back. Once everyone was assembled, she began. “I’m not sure where certain people got the idea that they were being promoted.” Her words hung in the air, and I could feel every eye in the room turn to me. Only then did she let a small, cruel smile touch her lips. “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding. The new Director is Jason Zhou.” With those few words, she nailed me to a pillar of shame. My colleagues awkwardly hid the confetti poppers behind their backs. “Sean, you might be a bit older,” Jason piped up, his voice dripping with condescension, “but promotions aren’t based on seniority. Otherwise, old Mr. Williams at the security desk is almost seventy. Should we make him the Director?” A few people snickered. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. The text in my vision was scrolling frantically. Sweetie, just give in a little! She’ll fire Jason on the spot, I swear! She’s seen how hard you’ve worked all these years, how could she not feel for you? Look, her eyes are all red. She was up all night waiting for your call. Son, you know she’s just difficult like this! Just give in, and I promise you tonight she’ll be on her knees with a durian, begging for forgiveness. She’s already got the condoms ready. A night of passion is just around the corner, don’t torture her like this! I ignored the floating words. If making me a public spectacle was her way of “feeling for me,” then I had nothing to say. Back at my desk, a colleague dropped a file in front of me. I glanced at it and shot to my feet. “What? You want me to transfer all my client files to Jason?” I asked, my voice tight with disbelief. The colleague avoided my gaze. “Look, Sean, it’s Miss Lin’s orders. Don’t make this hard for me.” The same people who had been ready to celebrate with me moments ago now looked at me with a mixture of pity and schadenfreude. 5 I took a deep breath. “Fine. I understand.” But he didn’t leave. “Um, Sean,” he mumbled, “Miss Lin also said… your office has the best light. She wants you to give it to Director Zhou.” I couldn’t help but laugh. A dry, humorless sound. It’s true what they say. When you’re truly speechless, you laugh. Lily was really showing me her true colors. Showing me what a fool I’d been for the past eight years. I unclipped my ID badge and walked toward her office with my resignation letter. Before I could knock, I heard Jason’s voice from inside. “So, Lily, does Sean always send you these apology essays after a fight? Hahaha, this is hilarious! ‘It’s all my fault, my sweet Lily-pad, please forgive me?’ Oh god, I’m getting goosebumps. You poor thing, I feel so bad for you.” My hand, raised to knock, clenched into a fist. Tears streamed down my face before I could stop them. Lily. You really are something else. 6 Oh no, sweetie, why are you crying? Lily didn’t mean to show him your letters! Jason was just using her phone to look something up and stumbled upon them. Don’t overthink it! Yeah, he asked to see them, and she couldn’t really say no, right? Besides, her mind is completely on you right now. She wasn’t even paying attention to what he was saying. Don’t misunderstand! She just ordered that ring you were looking at online. She knows she screwed up big time and is planning to propose to win you back. Honey, don’t be mad. Just go in there, be the bigger person, and that little punk Jason will be packing his bags in no time. Trust me! I didn’t believe a word of it. No one touched Lily’s phone. Except me. The fact that Jason could not only get his hands on it but also read my private messages out loud meant one thing: in Lily’s eyes, he was different. He was special. I closed my eyes, took a breath, and knocked. The voices inside stopped. “Come in.” I pushed the door open. Seeing me, Lily raised an eyebrow in surprise. I knew she was wondering why I’d knocked. I never used to. “What is it?” she asked, her tone dismissive. I placed my resignation letter and ID badge on her desk. Her brow furrowed. Before she could speak, Jason cut in. “A resignation letter? Sean, don’t tell me you’re actually upset about my promotion. This is Lily’s company. Does she need your permission to promote someone? Even if you’re her boyfriend, you’re overstepping. Threatening to quit… that’s a new low, even for you.” I sneered. “My low is still higher than your free ride.” “You—” Jason sputtered. “That’s enough!” Lily snapped. “Sean, stop this nonsense. Just because I promoted Jason? Do you have to make such an ugly scene?” I didn’t say anything, just took a step back. “This is my resignation. I won’t be in tomorrow.” Her response was to hurl her mug at the floor. It shattered, a piece of ceramic flying up and nicking the corner of my eye. I felt a warm trickle and touched my face, my fingers coming away bloody. Lily looked like a furious lioness. “Sean, what do our eight years of history mean to you? Nothing? You can just walk away? You think I can’t live without you? Get out! Get out right now!” She jabbed the button on her intercom. “Sean from Sales is fired. Send security to escort him out.” By the time I got back to my desk, my computer was locked. Two security guards stood waiting. “Mr. Chen. You can’t touch the computer. You may only take your personal belongings. Please be quick. Miss Lin wants you out in ten minutes.” My colleagues peeked over their cubicles, watching the show. I never thought Lily would be so eager to humiliate me. I could already imagine the gossip that would spread through the industry after today, about how I was unceremoniously kicked to the curb. If I hadn’t already found another job, my career in this city would have been over. After all this time together, she knew exactly where to stick the knife. I had to laugh. Look at her. The woman I loved for eight years. Colder than a stranger in a heartbeat. With the guards watching me like hawks, I quickly packed my things.

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At five months pregnant, I rushed to the hospital with abdominal pain—until my husband’s secretary, Vanessa, shoved her poodle into my car. “My ‘baby’ needs the vet first!” “Call a cab,” I snapped, transferring her money. “My child can’t wait.” That night, Julian raged: “Vanessa had to walk in 113°F heat!” “Are her dog more important than our baby?” I asked. He softened. “Of course not, darling.” Weeks later, on my due date, he drove me into the desert. A drone screen loomed above, showing him smirking with Vanessa in his arms. “You said adults know how to call cabs,” he mocked. “Let’s see you try now.” … The image of his mocking face on the screen grew sharper, but even in the 140-degree heat, a bone-deep chill washed over me. Through the screen, my gaze locked with Julian’s. “Get me to a hospital. Now. The baby can’t take this heat.” The disgust in his eyes deepened. “Can’t take the heat? Then why did you have the audacity to make Vanessa walk in it? Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance. Get on your knees, apologize to Vanessa, and I might just be merciful enough to let you go.” I looked up, incredulous. “Apologize? I gave her the money. I did nothing wrong. Julian, how can you be so heartless? This is your child in my belly!” He let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Vanessa’s carrying my child, too.” As he spoke, he gently placed a hand on Vanessa’s flat stomach, his eyes filled with a tenderness he hadn’t shown me in years. I stared in shock, but the brutal sun had already sapped my strength. Severely dehydrated, I collapsed onto the scorching sand. My phone tumbled from my pocket, its screen mockingly displaying a dozen different ride-share apps. Julian’s lips curled into a sneer. “I even downloaded the apps for you. You were the one who said to take a cab. So go on. Call one.” Beside him, Vanessa’s smile was triumphant and venomous. I curled into a ball on the desert floor. The searing pain of my skin blistering on the sand and the agony of my contractions were nothing compared to the thousand shards of ice piercing my heart. This was all for her. He was doing all of this just to appease Vanessa. The heat intensified. Sweat drenched my clothes, and the pain in my belly grew sharper, more insistent. And through it all, he just watched, his expression cold and detached. My eyes burned, my voice trembled. “Julian, have you forgotten the vows you made?” That seemed to be the final straw. His face contorted with rage. “Vows? Vanessa saw you with another man! She saw you getting too close!” Seven years. We had been married for seven years. I never thought the man who had once worshiped the ground I walked on would cheat on me, let alone abandon me to die based on his secretary’s poisonous lies. I pushed myself up, speaking through gritted teeth. “I didn’t. I would never…” “Enough!” he roared, cutting me off. “I don’t want to hear your lies! This is your lesson. For every ounce of suffering Vanessa endured that day, you will pay it back a thousand times over!” On cue, a helicopter appeared overhead. A bodyguard began scattering something from above, showering it down on the sand around me. Julian’s voice was cold enough to freeze the desert air. “If you can’t get a cab, you can walk.” As the objects landed, I saw what they were and gasped. Boxes and boxes of shattered glass. I fumbled for the charm I always wore, a gift from another man. He’d told me that if I ever pressed the hidden button on the back, he would find me, no matter where he was. He would come for me. He had to. But my hands were shaking too violently from the sunstroke. The charm slipped from my grasp and was instantly swallowed by the sand. All I could do was pray the signal had gone through. Before throwing me out, Julian had taken my shoes. My bare feet sank into the scalding sand, now laced with razor-sharp glass. The skin tore instantly. On the screen, Vanessa feigned concern, but her eyes danced with triumph. “Oh, Sienna, darling, just say you’re sorry. I’ll forgive you. I promise I won’t hold a grudge. You don’t have to be so stubborn.” She tugged on Julian’s sleeve. “Julian, maybe we should just let her go. I don’t want her to—” His expression hardened. “No. I promised you she would apologize.” Vanessa stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his throat. My heart felt like it was being flayed. The pain from my feet was so intense that my vision began to blacken. I clutched my stomach, forcing myself to stay conscious. A trail of blood marked every agonizing step I took. One of the bodyguards on the screen looked uneasy. “Sir, your wife is about to give birth. She’s in a fragile state. This could be life-threatening.” Julian scoffed. “Life-threatening? Did she consider that when she forced Vanessa to walk in this heat?” He looked at my bleeding feet, apparently still not satisfied. A helicopter landed in front of me. A bodyguard jumped out and roughly pinned me down. I tried to shield my belly, struggling with all my might, but he was too strong. He strapped heavy iron weights to my wrists and ankles. Julian’s voice boomed from above. “Vanessa was carrying her little dog that day. I want you to feel what that was like!” Weak and exhausted, the added weight sent me crashing to the ground. The instant my palms hit the sand, the skin sizzled and peeled away, the glass shards embedding themselves in my raw flesh. “Vanessa said she didn’t dare stop, not even for a second,” Julian’s voice continued, relentless. “So, Sienna, let’s see you walk without stopping!” A bodyguard hauled me to my feet. When I hesitated for a fraction of a second, a whip cracked across my back. “Ah!” A scream ripped from my throat, echoing across the desolate landscape. Vanessa’s fake-pitying voice drifted down. “Julian, stop it. She’s a spoiled little princess. She can’t handle this kind of hardship…” “Spoiled little princess?” The words ignited Julian’s fury. “Don’t think I don’t know! You’ve always looked down on me because you’re a Sterling!” I had been with Julian for three years before we married. I was willing to be disowned by my family, the powerful Sterlings, to be with him. I helped him build his empire from nothing. Back then, he treated me like I was the most precious thing in the world. A papercut was enough for him to rush me to the emergency room. But as he became more successful, he grew to resent my “privilege.” He said I used my family name to belittle him. And so he turned to his obedient little secretary, a woman who would worship him. Now, he was torturing me just to prove a point to her. I had thought a baby would change things, bring him back to me. But she was having his baby, too. At that thought, the last ember of love in my heart died. Seeing my silence, my refusal to beg, Julian’s face grew darker. On the screen, Vanessa’s eyes filled with tears. “Julian, please, let’s just stop. If people see her like this, they’ll think I’m the one bullying her. So what if I got a little sunburnt and almost died of heatstroke? I can handle it… I’m fine…” Her words were gasoline on the fire. Julian’s eyes blazed. “Sienna, I’m coming down there to teach you a lesson myself!” The helicopter carrying them landed. He stormed out, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and slapped me so hard my head snapped to the side. “Apologize to Vanessa!” My eyes were bloodshot. I spat out the word. “Never.” His gaze swept the area and landed on a large, flat rock baking in the sun. He dragged me over to it and, without a word, shoved me onto its scorching surface. My skin sizzled on contact. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. My once-flawless skin was now a mess of angry, weeping burns. Julian let go with a grimace of disgust and ordered his men to hold me down. The moment the searing stopped, they would pull me up, only to slam me back down onto the rock again. Over and over. I could feel my life draining away. But a deep, pulling pain in my belly reminded me I had to hold on. I couldn’t let my baby die before he even had a chance to see the world. I bit my tongue, the sharp pain keeping me lucid. Soon, the rock was stained with my blood. Julian stared at my ravaged skin, his eyes terrifyingly cold. “Vanessa got burned, too, when she walked to the vet. Sienna, have you learned your lesson yet?” My body was wracked with violent tremors. I tried to speak, but no sound came out. Suddenly, a pain unlike any other tore through my womb. A warm gush of fluid streamed down my legs. No… my water just broke. “Julian,” I gasped. “My water… it broke… get me to a hospital…” Vanessa rushed forward and pressed both hands down hard on my convulsing stomach. A horrific scream tore from my lungs as I instinctively shoved her away. She stumbled back and then dropped to her knees beside me, slapping her own face. “I’m so sorry, Sienna! I used to be a nursing student, I was just trying to see what was happening! I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” Julian planted his foot on my pregnant belly, his face a mask of fury. “You dare hurt Vanessa!” Then, a strange thing happened. He knelt, his touch surprisingly gentle as he stroked my stomach. For a fleeting second, a spark of hope ignited within me. Maybe he still cared. But his next words plunged me into the deepest pit of despair. He leaned close, his voice a soft, intimate whisper. “You always said you wanted me in the delivery room with you. Well, how about this? I’ll watch you give birth right here.”

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In the twelfth year of loving Austin Hayes, he finally asked me to marry him. The night before our engagement party, the one who got away—Sierra—suddenly flew back into town. She casually mentioned that I’d let my dog bite her. For that, Austin shattered my limbs and had me dumped in the slums of Mumbai. In that forgotten hell, a countdown timer embedded itself in my mind. I was dying, but it wouldn’t let me die. Three years later, Sierra’s men found me. They dragged my beggar’s body back and threw me near Austin’s estate. I don’t know what game she was playing. But it didn’t matter. The countdown had three days left. I was finally going to be free. 1 I first saw him again on day one, by the trash cans at the edge of his property. At that moment, I was hunched over a dumpster, cramming a half-eaten burger laced with laxatives into my mouth. The countdown kept me from dying, but it didn’t spare me from the gnawing hunger or the symphony of pain that was my body. I knew the food was tainted, but I didn’t care. When you have nothing, the simple pleasure of a full stomach is a luxury worth any price, even dignity. Austin stood in the distance, his silhouette sharp against the evening light. His gaze, dark and unreadable, was fixed on me. “Mr. Hayes, let me handle this… thing,” a voice beside him said nervously. “You shouldn’t have to dirty your hands.” “Just get her to a hospital for now,” Austin’s voice was a low rumble, a sound that sent a phantom tremor through what was left of my skin. “Finding Sophie is our priority.” Sophie. A name I hadn’t heard in years. My name. My head snapped down, and I crammed the rest of the filthy burger into my mouth, hiding my face. I couldn’t let him recognize me. Not like this. “I don’t care if you have to tear this city apart,” Austin’s voice grew colder, harder. “Find Sophie Collins!” “If it weren’t for her, Sierra wouldn’t have this condition!” “Only her blood can save Sierra now. This is all Sophie’s fault!” “She owes Sierra this!” His words were like a surge of molten lead, flooding my veins before instantly turning to ice. He wasn’t looking for me. He was looking for my blood. For Sierra. My empty eye sockets burned as if they were on fire. I tried to cry, but no tears came. My fingers only found a sticky, crusted mess. A rattling sound clawed its way up my throat, but no scream escaped. A sharp, sudden pain exploded in my lower back. A wooden stick. Rough hands grabbed me, and I was thrown onto the back of a utility vehicle. Blind and mute, I curled into the tightest ball I could manage, pressing myself against the cold metal floor, not daring to move. “God, who did she piss off?” one of the men whispered, his voice trembling. “To have her limbs broken, eyes gouged out, and tongue cut… and still be alive.” I heard shuffling feet, the sound of someone gagging. I couldn’t imagine what I looked like, but I knew it must be a canvas of rotting flesh and filth. Even the flies didn’t linger long. I couldn’t blame them for their disgust. “David,” Austin’s voice cut through the air, sharp and imperious. “Put the word out. Tell Sophie Collins she has three days to get her ass back here. Otherwise—” His voice dropped, laced with venom. “—we dig up her parents’ ashes and flush them down the sewer.” “If she won’t save Sierra, then her parents can’t rest in peace.” Hearing this, I tilted my head, trying to see him in the suffocating darkness. He must have forgotten. My parents’ ashes were already gone. The very night Sierra came back, he’d had them flushed down a toilet while I knelt on the floor, begging him, my pleas earning me nothing but a rain of kicks and punches. I never understood why. When Austin’s parents moved abroad, it was my mother and father who raised him as their own. How could he do this? It was as inexplicable as him throwing me away to rot in India. Maybe he’d always loved a brilliant, beautiful girl like Sierra. Maybe I was just a fool who dared to dream. “Mr. Hayes, about Miss Collins’s parents’ graves…” David started, his tone hesitant. Austin cut him off. “This isn’t my fault! Sophie is forcing my hand!” David fell silent, letting out a heavy sigh. How can you threaten a person who has no weaknesses left? “Sir… Miss Sierra already had their graves dug up three years ago. There’s nothing there to threaten her with.” I had more than no weaknesses; my ribs themselves were bent and broken. A grinding pain shot up from my shattered legs, the agony of bone grating against muscle. A low whimper escaped my throat as I forced my eyelids open to the familiar, endless black. “The patient’s limb fractures are old,” a doctor’s voice explained later, shaking slightly. “The tissue is necrotic, infection is severe, and bone fragments are still embedded in the muscle.” “The wounds where the eyeballs were removed are in a constant state of decay. Her vocal cords have been destroyed.” The doctor faltered. I heard the sharp tap of knuckles against a clipboard. “What’s worse, her internal organs are failing. Blood work shows chronic malnutrition and traces of unknown drugs.” He paused. “And… for the last three years, she’s been…” David gasped. “Medically speaking, with these kinds of injuries and infections, no one should survive more than three months,” the doctor continued, his voice thick with a mixture of awe and horror. “I have no idea how she held on this long. It must be some sheer, stubborn will to live.” Will to live? I had none. My parents were gone. There was nothing, and no one, left for me in this world. I was terrified of pain, yet I couldn’t die. No one wanted death more than I did. The countdown in my head now read: 2 days. I was so close to freedom. “Doctor, her condition…” David asked, his voice full of pity. “There’s no cure.” I felt warm breath near my face, and I knew they were both looking down at me. “And what’s most infuriating…” A cold, metal instrument touched one of my festering wounds. My entire body seized in a violent spasm, and a choked whimper rattled in my chest. I tried to raise a hand to protect myself, but my limbs were useless. But this time, no blow followed. The doctor’s voice returned, laced with sorrow. “David, look at this…” “Embedded in her wounds, at every joint… there are micro-cameras.” “Every twitch, every festering sore, every time she swallowed… it was all being broadcast.” The doctor’s throat constricted, his voice breaking. I heard him sob. The man I’d known for a decade wanted me dead. This stranger, this doctor, was weeping for me. It explained so much. Why, over the past three years, strangers would sometimes appear out of nowhere, taunting me with bizarre words. I should have died three years ago. Instead, I was forced to endure this prolonged, grotesque existence. Silence filled the room. I wondered if they were sad for me. I didn’t want my suffering to burden anyone else. I tried to wave a hand, to offer some impossible comfort, but my broken arm wouldn’t even lift. “David,” the doctor said, his voice trembling, “this young woman… she has an extremely rare blood type…” David said nothing. A moment later, the sound of urgent, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Expensive leather shoes clicked a brisk rhythm on the linoleum floor. “I saw the data from the system—we have a match for the rare blood type?” It was Austin. “Did Sophie finally grow a conscience and come back?” “I was just about to use that mutt of hers to threaten her. I can’t believe she showed up on her own.” His voice was a frantic, agitated mix of relief and rage. “Where is Sophie Collins?” A raspy sound escaped my throat. I’m right here, Austin. But you can’t see me. When we were kids, playing hide-and-seek, you could always find me, no matter where I hid. How did we end up like this? Maybe I never should have loved you. If I hadn’t, my parents would still be alive. And Daisy, the dog we raised together, she would be alive too. Tiny, brave Daisy. She threw herself in front of me to protect me, only to be beaten to death, blow by brutal blow, by Sierra’s men. Daisy was a fool, just like me. She probably died wondering why she and her master were being brutalized in their own home. I miss Mom, Dad, and Daisy. Just two more days. Then I’ll see them again. “Sir, we still haven’t located Miss Collins,” David said carefully. “But the woman you had me bring to the hospital…” I felt David’s gaze on me. Without eyes, my other senses were sharp, tuned to the weight of a look. I could feel pity, mockery, disgust… David’s gaze was heavy with guilt. I didn’t know why he felt guilty. Then I felt Austin’s eyes on me. I didn’t want him to see me, not like this. I tried to curl up, to hide my face, but even with all my strength, I couldn’t cover myself. It didn’t matter. My face was already ruined beyond recognition. Austin’s gaze was also filled with guilt. But his was different from David’s. “I’m sorry,” he began, his voice strained. “I know this is an outrageous thing to ask, but I’m begging you. My fiancée is dying. She desperately needs a transfusion of your blood type.” “Don’t worry,” he rushed on, “I’ll give you anything you want. Whatever you ask for, I will make it happen.” He reached out as if to grab my wrist, but then he saw my mangled limbs and recoiled, the scrape of his leather shoes loud in the quiet room. “I will compensate you. If you agree, just…” His eyes darted away, unable to look at me any longer. I knew what he was thinking. If you agree, blink your eyes. But I have no eyes. If you agree, wave your hand. But I can’t move my arms. Seeing no response from me, his voice hardened with desperation. “I’m sorry! I have to take your blood!” He bit out the words, as if he were trying to convince himself more than me. “Mr. Hayes, she’ll die!” David and a nurse cried out at once. I wanted to shake my head. Oh, I won’t die. Even if you drained every last drop of blood from my body, the countdown wouldn’t let me. But I had no way to tell them. “David, investigate her background! Find out who she is!” Austin commanded. “See if she has any last wishes, and fulfill them! If anything happens to her, I will make sure her family is compensated!” Under Austin’s orders, the doctors began to wheel my gurney toward the donation room. As we passed him, I felt his body tremble. A drop of sweat from his palm fell onto my arm. He always got sweaty palms when he was nervous. Was he going to break another promise? As they wheeled me away, I barely heard his guilt-ridden whisper, a mantra of self-justification. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! But if I don’t do this, Sierra will die! Blame Sophie! Just blame Sophie!” The needle pierced my skin. I felt a bead of blood well up on my arm. They had stuck me with so many needles over the years, but it never stopped hurting. The pain was a living thing, blooming from my marrow and sending fire through every rotten wound on my body. I wanted to scream, but my throat could only produce that same, pathetic rasping. Whenever the pain was this bad, I always wondered: if I could just clench my fists, would it hurt a little less? But I couldn’t even make a fist. I didn’t dare struggle. I knew struggling only brought more pain. If I didn’t do what they wanted, they punished me. Mom, Dad, and Daisy were gone. There was no one left to protect me. Through the haze of agony, I overheard the hospital’s address. It was close to my old house. I want to go home… The thought was a desperate, primal scream in the silence of my mind. I want to go home! As the blood drained from my body, the pain began to recede, replaced by a deep, encroaching numbness. The countdown in my head finally ticked down to its last day. I was finally going to see them. Mom, Dad, Daisy. Joyful murmurs drifted from down the hall. Sierra, the one who got away, was recovering. I almost smiled. It had nothing to do with me. “Miss, where did you get this scar?” It was David’s voice, full of confusion. I didn’t know which scar he meant. My body was a roadmap of them now. What was one more? And I couldn’t answer him anyway. All I wanted was to go home. But I couldn’t say the words. They wheeled me back to an empty room and left me there, forgotten. The door wasn’t fully closed. Gritting my teeth against a fresh wave of agony, I rolled off the bed and crashed to the floor. The hospital was close. I want to go home! With death so near, the urge was more powerful than anything I had ever felt. Mom, Dad, and Daisy were waiting for me at home. They had to be. I began to drag my broken body across the floor, crawling toward the hallway. I hate hospitals. I hate needles. I was always a sickly child, always sick. I knew this path by heart. Even blind, I could find my way home. The air outside was filled with festive noises. Everyone was congratulating Austin. Congratulating him on his bride’s recovery, on the wedding they could now have. So Austin was getting married. That’s nice. His parents would be so happy. But it didn’t matter. I was almost home. The moment I reached my front street, an overwhelming exhaustion washed over me. I could almost see them. Mom and Dad, and Daisy at their feet, standing on our porch, smiling, waiting for me. The street exploded with the sound of firecrackers and drums. It was just like when the neighbor’s son won an award; the whole street would celebrate. None of it mattered anymore. I saw Mom and Dad smiling, waving me over. I reached out, and they took my hand, just like they did when I was a baby. My body was whole again. No scars, no pain. I was finally home. I was dead.

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