My father is Duke Harrison, a decorated war hero covered in glory. My mother is the daughter of the former Chief Advisor, a man who once held immense power. But my two older brothers? To curry favor with a street kid they took in, they let him steal my identity. At my own Investiture Gala, Silas blocked my path, sneering, “A sickly weakling like you thinks you deserve this honor?” “The brothers already promised I would receive the title today. You should crawl back to the back shed and stop embarrassing everyone.” In my past life, I was terrified of my brothers hating me, so I became a coward, letting Silas walk all over me. But now, I’ve been reborn. Looking at Silas’s smug face and my brothers acting like they’d already won, I sent him flying with a kick. “A beggar like you dares block my path!” 1 No one expected me, the one who always backed down, to actually get physical. The guests froze. I immediately ordered Thompson, the butler, to drag him out. Thompson shot me a nervous glance, then hesitantly helped Silas up. “Young Master Silas handles most affairs in the household… The investiture is crucial, young master. Perhaps you should go rest…” My eyes turned ice-cold. I smirked. “I wasn’t aware an outsider could call the shots in Duke Harrison’s household.” Hearing this, Thompson trembled even more, his eyes darting towards Silas, who was scrambling up from the floor, furious. I didn’t wait for his answer. I grabbed a teacup from the table beside me and hurled it at the insolent servant. “A household servant conspiring with an outsider to defy his master? Perhaps he should be beaten immediately.” In my past life, this old fool ignored my father’s instructions. Trusting in my brothers’ favor, he helped them torment me endlessly. He didn’t just short me on food and clothes; helping Silas torture me to death wasn’t enough. He even desecrated my body and left it exposed outside the city walls. The butler was shaking like a leaf, terrified. He wouldn’t dare touch me now. He dropped to his knees instantly. “Forgive me, master! Spare this old servant’s life!” “Ethan, how has this house wronged you that you resort to violence and still dream of receiving the title?” Silas cried out, playing the victim, as if I were the villain. The crowd started murmuring at his act. Silas’s buddy, Caleb Miller, son of Governor Miller, was livid. He stormed up to me, pointing right in my face. “You’re just some broke freeloader! How dare you disrupt Silas’s investiture today!” “Didn’t the Duke adopt a kid years ago to be a guinea pig for the young master’s treatments? I heard the young master was too kind-hearted, didn’t use him, and even provided for him.” “That was just some beggar. If the young master hadn’t saved him, he’d have frozen to death. Now look at him, biting the hand that fed him.” Back then, I was frail and often sick. When I saved Silas, my brothers thought I planned to use him for experimental treatments and called me cruel, showering Silas with pity instead. Coming back, I finally get it. My father is the most uniquely honored Duke in the country, incredibly powerful and wealthy. As his legitimate son, why should I be overshadowed by Silas, a mere charity case, and two lackeys from minor branches of the family? Thinking this, my gaze sliced into Caleb Miller like a knife. “And who the hell are you? The son of a mere Governor dares interfere in the Duke’s family matters? Even your father wouldn’t dare speak to me like that!” Caleb clearly didn’t expect me to clap back in public. His face flushed crimson with rage. He lunged, swinging his hand, but I dodged easily and slapped him hard across the face. “You piece of trash! You hit me? I’m the Governor’s son!” he roared in disbelief. Gasps erupted from the crowd. Silas was furious, his face red. He snarled at the servants who were lowering their heads, afraid to intervene: “This lowlife’s gone crazy! Tie him up and throw him in the shed!” I swept my gaze over the few servants hesitantly grabbing ropes, my eyes glinting dangerously. “I am the Duke’s son. You dare touch me?” Silas flinched, a flicker of panic crossing his face before he quickly covered it with rage. “What nonsense are you spouting! Everyone in the capital knows you’re just the kid who cleans the chamber pots in the Duke’s manor!” The others clearly didn’t believe me. “Silas is right. He must have really lost it.” “Duke Harrison leads armies and wins great victories, but his own son is being bullied like this at his investiture ceremony.” I calmly instructed my loyal aide, Miles, beside me: “Go tell my two brothers that this Silas brazenly claims he’ll receive my title. Isn’t he afraid of committing fraud against the state?” Miles looked at me, hesitant. My brothers doted on Silas, indulging his every whim. If they found out I’d hit him, I’d likely face severe family discipline. Seeing his worried expression, I gave him a firm nod. Go. Quickly. Silas sneered triumphantly. “Still haven’t learned your place, huh? Let’s see how you handle this when the brothers get here.” In my past life, the brothers I’d looked up to since childhood let me be bullied, let Silas torture me to death. As I lay dying in agony, I begged them to save me, but they complained my blood was dirtying Silas’s hands. I was tortured to death, my body left exposed in the wilds for dogs to devour. Now, I’ve crawled back from hell. Let’s see who doesn’t let who off the hook. 2 A moment later, Miles ran back in, head bowed, looking guilty and pained. “Master Silas will proceed with the investiture. The young master should just behave himself.” Of course. No matter how I was mistreated, it was nothing in their eyes. Silas snickered. “See? You made him run for nothing…” Before he could finish, someone burst in energetically. It was my fiancée, Sophia Patton, daughter of the General. Miles thought she was here to help me, his worried expression vanishing. I just shook my head with a small, humorless smile. When we were kids, she followed me around constantly, saying she’d marry me when we grew up, pestering her father to arrange the betrothal and exchange family tokens. But ever since she met Silas, she became obsessed, helping him humiliate me. Sophia anxiously looked Silas up and down, as if terrified he’d lost a single hair. Then she turned to me, her face full of disgust. “A beggar. I can’t believe I was fooled by you, actually thinking you were the Duke’s son. Thank goodness the Heir told me the truth. If I had actually married you…” “The General’s family would have been a laughingstock!” My own fiancée confirmed the lie about my identity. That instantly changed the minds of anyone who might have still half-believed me. This whole drama got everyone else whispering, their curious eyes darting between us. Silas’s smugness grew more obvious. To help Silas further, Sophia’s face hardened. She ripped the pendant from her waist. “Take back this engagement token! A lowlife like you will probably only ever marry some cheap street girl!” Watching Sophia’s resolute act, I remembered my past life. After my death, the President was furious. Sophia knelt before my uncle, the President, weeping, insisting she had always loved me, that she was just misled by villains into doing such foolish things. It was so laughable, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Sophia’s face darkened. “What are you laughing at…” “I’m laughing at how blind you are, mistaking trash for treasure. Breaking off our engagement for a beggar. I wonder what the old General will say when he finds out.” My words made the crowd gasp. “Silas is the beggar?” “But why are the Duke’s older sons letting him receive the title?” The murmurs started again, everyone’s eyes shifting between Silas and me. Me: handsome features, sharp eyes, an air of inherent nobility. Him: dressed in fine clothes, but his eyes and posture still screamed cunning, vulgarity, and a cheap imitation. Silas turned pale, swaying slightly. He quickly retorted, “If you’re really the Duke’s son, why won’t your brothers let you receive the title instead of me?” Sophia sneered, “Silas is too kind-hearted to expose you! And now you turn around and accuse him!” Their words flipped the situation again. Caleb Miller, who had just been embarrassed, regained his confidence. “He’s just a beggar! If I beat you dead today, no one would stand up for you. Let me teach you a lesson for Silas!” Several other young men from prominent families chimed in, ordering their guards to grab me. They kicked my legs out from under me, forcing me to my knees. “Teach him how to apologize properly,” one said, then they forced my head down, slamming it against the floor again and again, until the ground was stained with blood. Sophia pulled Silas behind her. “It’s too dirty. Don’t let it offend your eyes.” Silas smirked triumphantly. “I told you not to cross me. You don’t have a say in this family, do you?” I defiantly raised my head, glaring at him. “Mother is coming back soon! Then none of you will get away with this!” After the ceremony, my father returns triumphant from the war. The President, having already honored him greatly, will shower me with rewards. That’s why these people are rushing to suck up now. But in my past life, I didn’t even live to see Father return; Silas framed me. I never saw my father again before I closed my eyes for the last time. Silas crouched down, whispering mockingly in my ear, “You really are naive. The Pattons command significant military power. As long as I marry Sophia, who would dare touch me?” Thinking of how yielding in my past life only led to a miserable death, I wouldn’t let him go this time. 3 I struggled violently, trying to fight back. Before I could land a blow, a furious voice boomed: “Absurd!” My two older brothers strode in. The others instantly let me go, frightened. A flicker of panic crossed Silas’s face, but he quickly composed himself. My second brother, Leo, fussed over Silas, straightening his slightly rumpled clothes. My eldest brother, Marcus, glanced dismissively at my wretched state after giving Silas a concerned look. He scolded me publicly, “You crude, worthless dog, daring to disrespect your betters! Why can’t you learn from Silas’s manners? Maybe then you could find a decent family to marry into someday.” My brothers said things like that all the time in my past life. To please them, I tried desperately to imitate Silas, only for them to mock me as a pathetic imitation. I finally understood. If people don’t care about you, nothing you do will make them see you differently. Thinking this, I gave a cold laugh. “Learn what from Silas? His phony victim act? Or his talent for identity theft?” Afraid of getting caught in the crossfire, the other young men quickly blamed everything on me. “He even dares talk back to the Heir! No wonder he bullies Silas.” “Exactly! He was insulting Silas and trying to steal his title. If we hadn’t protected Silas, who knows what crazy thing he would have done.” Sophia stepped forward indignantly. “A lowlife like him isn’t fit to touch a single hair on Silas’s head! Today, in front of the Heir, I officially break off our engagement!” Leo looked apologetic towards her. “It’s our fault. We failed to discipline this troublemaker. It truly shames both our families.” Seeing the alliance between the Harrison and Patton families shattered because of me… Marcus frowned. “The Harrison family has no place for such a disgraceful degenerate. Silas is my only true brother.” Silas’s eyes widened in surprise, then he lowered his head, sighing dramatically. “It’s my fault for not managing things better, letting a mere beggar dream of replacing the real heir. I was wrong.” His words made the three of them feel incredibly sorry for him. Sophia immediately took out the marriage contract and ripped it to shreds on the spot. She carefully took the engagement locket she’d taken from me and hung it on Silas’s belt. She announced loudly, “All our esteemed guests are here today. It should be perfectly clear who deserves this honor. I, Sophia Patton, declare that the man I intend to marry is Silas of the Harrison household!” Amidst cheers and congratulations, Silas shot me a triumphant, smug look. I ignored his provocation. Whoever wanted a fickle woman like her could have her. Seeing I showed no remorse… Leo turned to Marcus, his voice hardening. “Marcus, today Ethan publicly defied his superiors and embarrassed Silas. But, out of mercy, perhaps we should just cut out his tongue, make him a mute servant, and send him off to the country estate.” Marcus seemed hesitant. “If you admit you were wrong right now, in front of everyone, and then go kneel in the study all night, we can let this go.” The smile on Silas’s face froze for a second. He put on a wounded expression. “It’s alright, brothers. Don’t be angry on my account. I don’t care about these empty titles anyway.” “But brother,” he added, looking at me, “even if you’re being willful, you shouldn’t disgrace the Harrison name.” His words instantly made Marcus’s impatience flare up visibly. “You still refuse to admit you’re wrong?” Ha. These were the brothers I grew up adoring. They weren’t always this wealthy and privileged. It was only because I liked trailing after them as a child that my mother formally adopted them – sons from a side branch of the family – under her name, securing the title of Heir for Marcus early on. I stiffened my neck, wanting to slap my past self. How could I have been so stupid, wasting my loyalty on dogs? Marcus turned, his face grim, and ordered the servants: “Do as Leo said. Take him to the back, cut out his tongue, then dump him at the country estate. If he doesn’t learn his lesson, he’s never coming back.” I lifted my head, meeting Marcus’s gaze coldly. “What right do you have to kick me out? Even the Head of the Clan wouldn’t dare suggest disowning me or cutting out my tongue.” Leo scoffed. “Father and Mother aren’t here. Of course, Marcus, as the Heir, has the authority to handle family matters.” Marcus announced gravely, “This Investiture Gala is for Silas. This Ethan Harrison has nothing to do with our family.” Silas smugly told a servant, “Things happened suddenly, so all the family carriages will be needed for our guests later. Just find a simple cart outside the estate to haul him away.” Just as they were about to grab me and drag me off… A furious voice boomed from the doorway: “You two degenerates! Who are you saying is my son? Have the guts to say it again to my face!”

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The year I turned twenty, Ethan rescued me, helped me escape that nightmare town I called home. To repay him, I spent three years cooking and cleaning for him, never complaining, doing whatever he asked. But I knew, deep down, I had less than a year left. I thought we’d live out my remaining days in quiet, simple happiness. Until one night, he came home drunk from a work thing. I saw the texts from his ‘perfect girl’. “Ethan, you must be wasted, probably made a mess. Why don’t you let me take care of you tonight?” Ethan texted back: “Why would I let you handle that dirty work? I’ll just make the housekeeper at home deal with it.” “Aww, you always know how to take care of me!” Chloe replied, adding a little heart emoji. Reading that, my stomach twisted. So, he loved someone else. All this time, I was just the live-in maid, someone he could summon or dismiss whenever he felt like it. The dream was never mine. It was time to wake up. 1 Ethan was still dead asleep in bed, soft snores escaping his lips. I scrolled through the contacts list until I found the one labeled “Goddess.” Her social media profile painted a picture of a girl living a charmed life. She had the same long, dark, straight hair as me, the same delicate build, skin that looked flawless. But in the pictures with Ethan, her big, doe eyes sparkled with a vulnerability I’d never managed. My own default expression was usually… gloomy. It made me think about all the times Ethan had nudged me about my clothes, my style. Maybe I was just her stand-in all along. I’m a pretty traditional girl, maybe even a little old-fashioned. I never used to wear skirts above the knee. But Ethan had practically begged, giving me those puppy-dog eyes, until I slowly gave in, trying out the black stockings and high heels he liked. Standing in front of the mirror, I took off the lacy nightgown he’d bought me for Valentine’s Day. I put on a plain blue bathrobe instead. I spent the night on the living room sofa, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The next morning, when Ethan woke up, I was already putting a bowl of freshly made oatmeal on the coffee table. As I set it down, I quickly touched my earlobes with my fingers, red from the heat of the bowl. Ethan wrapped his arms around me from behind. He inhaled the scent of my hair, whispering softly in my ear, his breath warm. “My sweet, thoughtful Maya. You work so hard.” “It’s what I do,” I replied flatly, gently pushing him away as I arranged the spoon. He probably thought I was just being shy. Ethan shrugged. Then his eyes fell on what I was wearing. He frowned. “Why’d you change your pajamas?” I told him the other one was too revealing, I felt a little cold, so I picked something warmer. I expected him to ask if I was okay, maybe show some concern. Instead, a flicker of disappointment crossed his face. He used that coaxing tone he always used. “I still like you better in that sexy little devil outfit. Please, wear it again tonight? For me?” Without waiting for an answer, he went to brush his teeth, put on his suit, ready to leave. “Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” I asked, watching him polish his dress shoes. Ethan clutched his stomach, shaking his head with a sigh. “Nah, drank too much last night. Stomach’s still messed up. You eat it.” He grabbed his briefcase and walked out the door. The sound of the front door clicking shut echoed in the sudden silence. The oatmeal on the table was still steaming, but my heart felt ice-cold. Because I knew exactly where Ethan was heading. Downstairs, by the entrance to the complex, smiling as Chloe handed him a coffee and a bagel. It didn’t matter if Chloe made it herself or just bought it. If it came from her hands, it was the most delicious thing in the world to him. Looks like another breakfast alone. I sat at the table, mechanically spooning oatmeal into my mouth. It tasted like cardboard. Maybe fate was just trying to get me used to being alone ahead of time. With her appearance, the countdown to leaving Ethan had officially begun. 2 Was I wasting my time, obsessing over every detail of this man’s life? This was our third year together. Twenty-three. For a girl, that’s supposed to be the prime of your life. Most girls my age are either in college, maybe grad school, or starting their careers. Me? I spent my days cleaning the apartment, washing Ethan’s clothes, even his socks. Waiting for him to come home, I’d have a hot meal ready, then change into whatever pajamas he liked best and sit quietly on the bed, waiting. Some might say I was pathetic, lowering myself like that. Not worth it. But I did it because I owed him. A debt of gratitude. Back when I ran away from home, I was lost, wandering aimlessly on a mountain road in the pouring rain. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a strange city, a handsome face looking down at me with concern. “You’ve got a high fever. Just lie still, we’re almost at the hospital.” That was Ethan. He stayed with me at the hospital for two days and nights until I recovered. He never asked why I was out there in a storm, or where I came from. Maybe it didn’t matter to him. To him, I was probably just some poor runaway girl he happened to rescue. But to me, Ethan was the first man who had ever been truly kind to me. So, after that, we just… fell together. Naturally. I gave myself to him willingly, tried everything to make him happy, even accepted his flaws and weird little habits. On his birthday, I wore that maid outfit he’d been hinting about forever and gave him… everything. The most precious thing a girl has. It wasn’t until last night that I realized how incredibly stupid I’d been. Today, I didn’t clean. Instead, I went downtown, just to get some air. Besides grocery shopping and running errands, I hardly ever went out. Sitting on a bench, I scrolled through my phone and, almost without thinking, searched for Ethan’s Instagram. He probably figured I wasn’t savvy enough to check, so he hadn’t blocked me or made it private. Mostly work stuff, nothing too out of the ordinary. But then I noticed one account liked almost every single post. I clicked on it. Of course, it was Chloe. And sprinkled through her feed were pictures of her and Ethan, acting like a couple. In the park, on the subway, at the movies… even at a motel. The one that hit hardest was taken in what looked like a cheap motel room, on one of those heart-shaped beds. Chloe had her head buried in Ethan’s broad shoulder, and he was playing with strands of her hair. The caption read: Ugh, stylist went rogue and chopped off way too much hair today! So annoyed! 🙁 Ethan’s comment below: I like it. When your hair grows long enough to touch your waist, will you marry me? Chloe replied with a blushing emoji. Nausea washed over me. How many times had he done that same thing to my hair, whispering sweet nothings in my ear? “I can’t wait to see you in a white wedding dress, your hair blowing in the wind in our photos.” “Maya, you’re my angel. Just wait a little longer. As soon as I save up enough money, we’ll get married.” I walked into a hair salon. A stylist, Tony, immediately started trying to sell me hair products. “Hey there! Looking for color? Treatment?” I didn’t answer. I just sat in the chair, staring at my own reflection – lost, broken. Then I spoke, my voice cold. “Cut it short.” I knew it now. The woman he pictured in that wedding dress definitely wasn’t me. 3 It was after nine when Ethan finally decided to come home. I didn’t bother asking where he’d been. The answer was always the same: working late or a client dinner. When he saw my hair, barely reaching my chin, he looked surprised. “Whoa, what happened here? My little homemaker decided on a new look?” I ignored him, focusing on hanging the freshly washed clothes on the balcony rack. He probably thought I was busy and didn’t hear him, not noticing the shift in my attitude. He walked over, glanced at the clothes, and said, half-joking, “Seriously? What kind of style is that? So plain.” Then he went into the bedroom. Soon, I heard the tap-tap-tap of his phone keys, punctuated by muffled laughter. I knew it. I couldn’t even spark a flicker of interest in him anymore. It was time to leave. Better to die alone than keep getting hurt like this. I finished hanging the clothes, washed the dishes piled in the sink, and dragged my exhausted body toward the bedroom. As soon as I walked in, Ethan looked up, a sly grin on his face. “Hey, come here. Let’s try this tonight.” He eagerly held up a box. New lingerie, probably from one of those trashy shops. I gave it a cold glance and shook my head. “I’m too tired today. And besides… I don’t really like it.” He’d asked me to wear embarrassing things before. At first, I’d refused. Then he’d throw a tantrum, call me ungrateful. How he’d stayed up for two days taking care of me when I was sick, and now I couldn’t even do this one little thing for him. Then came the silent treatment. Remembering how he’d helped me, I’d always cave first. I’d force myself into those skimpy outfits, trying to please him, satisfy him. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Back then, Ethan was everything to me. I could overlook his weird kinks. But now that I knew what I really was in his eyes, I wasn’t going to humiliate myself anymore. My refusal this time didn’t deter him. He shoved his phone in my face. It was a private photo of Chloe, wearing sexy lingerie – the exact same style he’d just shown me. A disgusting thought crossed my mind: maybe the one he handed me was hers, already worn. “Look how cool my colleague Chloe is! She wore it, even sent me pics, no big deal. See how open-minded she is?” “You’re my woman! You need to have some awareness!” When I still didn’t respond, just climbed into bed and turned my back, Ethan sighed dramatically. “Ugh, girls from the sticks just don’t get it. No class.” Seeing that pleading and bullying weren’t working this time, Ethan switched tactics. Reverse psychology. He started praising Chloe right in front of me – how amazing she was, how understanding. He was so bold now because he was convinced he had me completely under his thumb. That my old self would never, ever leave him. But even after all his prodding, I didn’t give in. He didn’t seem too angry, just went back to texting Chloe. After a minute, he nudged me with his foot. “Hey, Maya. What’s your hometown like? Scenery-wise?” “Holiday’s coming up. Chloe mentioned wanting to get out of the city, see some mountains and rivers, but doesn’t know where to go.” Hearing the words “hometown” sent a chill down my spine, making the hairs on my arms stand up. It wasn’t because he was so blatantly trying to provoke me. It was the flood of terrifying memories those words unleashed. The villagers’ leering faces. My mother’s wild eyes. A nightmare I could never fully escape. 4 Seeing I still wasn’t talking, Ethan figured I was just sulking again. Based on past experience, he assumed I’d be crying and begging for his forgiveness soon enough. Muttering “What a buzzkill,” he rolled over and went to sleep. The next morning, Ethan left early without even saying goodbye. My heart felt completely frozen. I started packing my things, ready to leave this place, find somewhere no one could ever find me. This time, I was serious. It was really over. I was about to delete our photos from his laptop when I noticed his Discord was still logged in. A group chat named “The Wolf Pack” was flashing insistently. Someone had uploaded a bunch of files. I clicked one at random. It was a video of me, wearing that revealing lingerie, trying to appease Ethan, just like he’d demanded. “Damn, Ethan! Even got innocent little Maya wrapped around your finger.” “Whoa! Didn’t know you had it in you, man. Such a player. How’d you PUA her? Share your secrets!” As the group members started commenting on me, objectifying me, Ethan posted a smug emoji, then typed: “That’s nothing. Maya and I had a good foundation. She was crazy in love with me, would do anything I wanted.” Everyone in the chat was envious. Then someone typed: “Maya’s got the body and face, sure, but still not quite on Chloe’s level.” Others chimed in: “Yeah, Ethan, when are you gonna share some real action with Chloe for the bros?” But when faced with this request about Chloe, Ethan instantly became protective, like a dog guarding its food. “Dream on. Chloe’s my goddess. Her divine beauty isn’t for peasants like you to even gaze upon.” The ‘wolf pack’ responded with eye-roll emojis, calling him selfish. Someone immediately challenged him: “But Maya’s your actual girlfriend, right? How come you can just share her private videos with us?” Ethan replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world: “Maya? Girlfriend? LMAO, she’s just a toy. Don’t compare her to my pure goddess, Chloe.” “To me, she’s just a maid who cleans and cooks during the day, and a doll that moves and makes noise at night.” “If any of you guys are interested, maybe one day I’ll slip her something extra, and then you can… hehehe…” The rest of the chat was too disgusting to read. Ethan clearly reveled in being the center of their sleazy attention. I closed the laptop, my whole body shaking violently. Tears streamed down my face, splashing onto the floor like raindrops. I buried my head between my knees, replaying everything that had happened since Chloe appeared. My initial disappointment and heartache had curdled into pure disgust and fury. So, all my love and devotion had been wasted on a scumbag. My gratitude, my tolerance – he’d twisted them into excuses to trample all over my dignity. In his mind, Chloe was the angel, and I was the witch. Completely incomparable. I might have come from a dark place, but I never wanted to hurt anyone. I was even willing to give up my own life to hold onto that last shred of decency. Thinking this, I finally dialed the number I hadn’t called in years. The call connected. A familiar voice answered. “Yeah? Who is it?” “Mom,” I said, my voice flat, devoid of any emotion. “I’m coming home.” “Hmph. Finally snapped out of it? Or are you just scared now that you know you only have a year left?” “That doesn’t matter,” I cut her off. “This time, I’m bringing a man back with me.” A chilling laugh echoed from the other end of the line. My own eyes turned cold as ice.

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The night we got married, I passed out drunk, and my husband snuck off to spend the night in his childhood friend’s room. When I found out the next day, he brushed it off. “She just wanted to feel what it’s like to be a bride for a night, it’s not a big deal!” We had a massive fight about it. He stormed out, slamming the door. The next time I saw him, he was gently helping his childhood friend—already heavily pregnant—shop for baby supplies at the hospital gift shop. I confronted him, furious and loud. He shot back, completely self-righteous, “She just wants a child with me to keep her company in her lonely years! It doesn’t threaten your position as Mrs. Cole. What’s the problem!” Hearing that, I demanded a divorce right then and there. He looked completely unfazed. “Fine. Just don’t come crawling back!” 1 When Ethan Cole returned three months later, I handed him the divorce papers I’d already printed out. “Sign them.” Ethan took them, flipped through a few pages casually, and snorted. “Claire, are you serious?” “Jessica and I grew up together. She lost her family young, she’s had it rough.” “She asked me to give her a child, something to keep her company through the lonely years ahead. What’s so wrong with that?” “Claire, seriously, don’t be so petty!” I remained expressionless. “On this, I can’t compromise my principles.” “You should find a wife who’s okay with her husband having a baby with another woman.” I grabbed my single suitcase, packed with my few personal belongings, ready to leave. Ethan stepped quickly in front of me. “Claire, stop making a scene, okay?” “Even if Jessica has the baby, it won’t affect your standing as Mrs. Cole.” “If it bothers you that much, once the baby’s born, I can bring him here for you to raise. Problem solved.” His tone was insistent, his face etched with irritation as he tried to force this ‘solution’ on me. The old me would have seen that look and immediately agreed to anything, just to keep him happy. But not anymore. Forcing myself to ignore how I really felt was torture. My voice was cold. “Sorry, if I want a child, I’ll have my own.” Seeing I wouldn’t budge, Ethan kicked over a display stand nearby. The crystal rose sculpture sitting on it shattered instantly as it hit the floor. I stared at the scattered fragments, feeling suffocated. That crystal rose… Ethan had specially commissioned it from an artisan overseas to celebrate our fifth anniversary. Now, it was just broken pieces. Like us. Irreparable. When exactly did the man who swore he loved only me turn into someone who would father a child with another woman? Were all those promises of spending a lifetime together just empty words, forgotten so quickly? Ethan froze for a second, looking at the crystal petal near his foot. He pressed his lips together, seemingly forcing himself to calm down. “Claire, we’ve been together for so many years. Are you really going to throw it all away this easily?” “I know Jessica’s always had feelings for me, but she never meant to upset you.” “Even wanting to be my bride… she just begged me to let her experience it for one night, our wedding night.” Hearing him say that, so matter-of-factly, I almost laughed out loud from sheer bitterness. What bride on earth would be okay with her husband spending their wedding night with someone else? It was the ultimate humiliation, like being trampled on! I regretted so badly not slapping that bitch that day. My voice dripped with sarcasm. “Oh, right, right. Poor little Jessica, the most pitiful girl in the world!” “After we divorce, you can just bring her right here to take care of her. Wouldn’t want the baby born without a dad, making poor Jessica’s tragic life even worse.” “You can show off your boundless compassion then.” Hearing my words, Ethan’s face darkened instantly. “Claire, don’t push it!” “You need to understand something. If you divorce me, you lose all of this – the money, the status, everything!” “Even if you get on your knees and beg me to take you back, I won’t.” “Besides, who would want to marry a divorced woman with a back full of scars!” 2 Those few simple words from Ethan felt like a knife twisting in my heart. It’s true. The people closest to you always know exactly where to strike to cause the most pain. Ethan was right. Most men wouldn’t want a wife whose back was covered in scars. But Ethan Cole was the last person on earth who had the right to say that. In high school, some criminals targeted the Cole family’s immense wealth. They ambushed Ethan after school, trying to bundle him into an unmarked car as he walked home alone. I saw him struggling. I grabbed his arm, trying desperately to pull him out of the sedan. Instead, they dragged me in too, taking us both to an abandoned warehouse. Even after they got the ransom money, they didn’t let us go. They set the warehouse on fire and fled. Ethan was unconscious. While trying to drag him out, a burning beam fell, hitting me squarely on the back. That incident sparked something different between Ethan and me. Even though it was just me and my grandma, barely scraping by, I refused the Cole family’s help after getting into college. I worked my ass off to pay my own tuition. I wanted to marry him without anyone whispering that I was just after his money. But now I realized Ethan wasn’t worth my effort. Not one bit. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably as I dragged my suitcase out of the Cole mansion. It was strange. I’d already decided I didn’t love him anymore. So why did it still hurt so damn much? I took my few belongings and went back to the old house in the small town where I grew up. The town isn’t big, not many people live here. But every single one of them watched me grow up. When Grandma saw me, she instinctively looked behind me. I knew she was looking for Ethan. My lips trembled. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I was getting divorced right after getting married. But Grandma saw something was wrong anyway. Her eyes reddened as she took my hand. “It’s okay, child. It’s okay. You’re home now.” That night, lying on the creaky old wooden bed, I picked up my phone and saw a notification from Jessica. It was four wedding photos of her and Ethan. Then, within three minutes, she unsent them. Followed by a text: “Oops, sorry Claire! Meant to send these wedding pics with Ethan to him, accidentally sent them to you.” “You’re not mad, are you? 😉” The fake sweetness, the ‘oopsie’ vibe… it made me sick to my stomach. Lying there, a thought clicked in my mind. So, after Ethan stormed out from our fight, he and Jessica clearly did everything they shouldn’t have. Less than a minute later. Jessica posted those same photos to her social media feed. The main picture showed Ethan, smiling down tenderly, holding a heavily pregnant Jessica in his arms. Her caption read: 【Thank you, Ethan, for making my dream of a happy family come true! 】 I let out a cold laugh, immediately liked the post, and commented: 【Congrats on your happy family reunion! 】 Just as I was about to turn off my phone, it rang. Ethan. “Claire, what the hell was that comment on Jessica’s post?” “We just took a few pictures, that’s all! Did you have to leave such a nasty comment?” “Jessica saw it and got totally hysterical, now her stomach hurts!” “She’s right here next to me. You need to apologize to her, right now! If something happens to the baby because of this, you can’t afford to take responsibility!” My voice was sharp. “Who the hell does she think she is? Why should I apologize to her?” “The second I left, she threw herself at you, sleeping with a man who isn’t even divorced yet.” “Ethan, my advice? Finalize this divorce ASAP. That way, when people see you together, you can flaunt your love openly.” “It’ll be much better for the precious Cole Industries reputation too.” Ethan laughed coldly. “Claire, I already ripped up those divorce papers. I’m giving you one last chance to come back to me.” “Wait until I really don’t want you anymore. Then it’ll be too late for regrets!” I replied calmly, “Wow, thanks so much for the chance. Too bad I’m the one who doesn’t want you anymore!” “Right now, all I want is to get this divorce over with!” With that, I hung up. Ethan, Ethan, Ethan. How can you be so damn confident I’d actually want you back after you cheated? 3 Unfortunately, Ethan seemed completely incapable of understanding reality. First thing in the morning, I was jolted awake by my phone ringing. His name flashed on the screen. I immediately hit decline. But then he called the old landline in the house. Grandma, already up, reached for the phone, but I snatched the receiver faster. “Grandma, I’m hungry. Could you make me something to eat?” “When I was away, I missed your cooking every single day!” Once Grandma was safely dispatched to the kitchen, I hissed into the phone, “Ethan, will you just give it a rest!” “Can you please stop bothering my grandmother!” “Well, if you hadn’t hung up on my cell, I wouldn’t have had to call here,” Ethan shot back. “Where’s my breakfast? My stomach hurts, I’m starving.” Hearing him harassing me over breakfast, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. When I didn’t respond, Ethan’s voice grew agitated. “Get back here right now and make me breakfast! Do you want me to get an ulcer or something?” “Whether your stomach hurts or not has absolutely nothing to do with me!” “Isn’t Jessica there at the house? Let her make you something.” Ethan exploded. “Jessica is pregnant! How could I possibly let her cook!” Those words, coming through the phone line, felt like another stab to the heart. He couldn’t bear to let her cook, but I was supposed to be at his beck and call? I’ll never forget the year I was drowning in my thesis work. He called, saying he craved my homemade chili. So, I rode my bike through a torrential downpour to deliver it to his office. When I arrived, soaked to the bone, his colleagues stared at me with pity and curiosity. I knocked on his CEO office door, and who opened it? Jessica, wearing a slinky little dress. She took the insulated container from me, her voice dripping with faux surprise. “Oh, Claire, you really shouldn’t have! Coming all this way in this storm with chili!” “I told Ethan not to bother you, but he was just so worried about me, he insisted on calling you to make it for me!” Jessica’s words hit me like a bucket of ice water, freezing me from head to toe. I just stood there, motionless. It wasn’t until Ethan came out from inside that I finally found my voice. “Were you planning to give the food I made… to her?” Ethan looked completely nonchalant. “It’s just food, Claire. No big deal.” “You haven’t found a job yet anyway, making Jessica some food isn’t exactly hard work.” “Besides, I’ve always seen her as a little sister. Once we’re married, she’ll basically be your sister-in-law. Think of it as getting to know each other early.” Back then, naive and trusting, I completely bought his explanation. There was even a period when I genuinely tried to bond with Jessica. Thinking back now, I want to shake my past self awake. Claire, how could you have been so easily fooled! I gripped the phone tighter, my voice cold. “Ethan, we are getting divorced.” “If you want food, figure it out yourself. Stop harassing me with this nonsense!” “You have more than enough money, hire someone! Anyone would be willing to cook for you!” “And I assume you don’t want the scandal of your affair with Jessica splashed all over the gossip sites, right?” Before he could start yelling, I slammed the phone down. Strange. I clearly won that exchange, yet my heart still ached with a dull throb. I rubbed my tired eyes and saw Grandma standing in the doorway, holding a bowl of hot oatmeal. “Was that your husband on the phone, dear?” I managed a weak smile. “Grandma, he won’t be your grandson-in-law anymore. We’re getting divorced.” 4 After finishing the oatmeal, I rode my bike into town and printed out another copy of the divorce agreement. Just as I handed the new envelope to the courier, my phone rang again. Ethan. The frequency of his calls made me momentarily think he’d somehow already received the papers I just sent. I snapped into the phone, “We are about to be divorced! Please stop calling me!” There was a pause on the other end, then a sickly sweet voice purred, “Claire, honey, it’s me, Jessica.” “Tomorrow, Ethan and I are having our gender reveal party! You have to come, okay?” The triumph in her voice was unmistakable, even over the phone. “Jessica, you’re the mistress, the secret on the side. Who gave you the audacity to provoke the actual wife?” Jessica’s sugary-sweet voice came back, laced with venom. “Oh, Claire. The one who isn’t loved is the real third wheel.” “In Ethan’s heart, I’m the one who matters most.” “From now on, his heart only has room for me and our baby!” “Hope you can make it tomorrow. Be there!” After hanging up, a decision formed in my mind. Not only would I attend tomorrow’s party, but I’d also bring a little surprise for her and Ethan. Something truly unforgettable. The next day, when I arrived at the party venue, it was already filled with familiar faces. There were Cole family relatives, along with business partners who worked with Cole Industries. I recognized most of them from my time dating Ethan. Seeing me arrive, several people approached immediately, offering congratulations. “Congratulations, Mrs. Cole, to you and Mr. Cole on the wonderful news!” A few businesswomen chimed in with compliments, “Mrs. Cole, you’re several months along and barely showing! What’s your secret to staying so slim?” I smiled serenely. “That’s because the one who’s pregnant isn’t me.” I honestly couldn’t understand how Ethan could allow his mistress to be presented so formally in front of all these people. Wasn’t he afraid of becoming the laughingstock of their entire social circle? He must have been completely blinded by Jessica’s manipulation! Just as I finished speaking, music swelled, and Jessica walked out, arm-in-arm with Ethan. Seeing her obviously pregnant belly, everyone in the room instantly understood what I meant. The looks on the faces of all the women present shifted dramatically as they stared at the couple on the small stage. Jessica, seemingly oblivious to the sudden change in atmosphere, shot me a defiant look. Putting on a frail, delicate act, she stepped forward and took the microphone. “I have to thank Claire for me being pregnant with Ethan’s baby.” “If she hadn’t fought with Ethan, I never would have had the chance to go away with him on that three-month trip!” “That’s when our baby was conceived.” This blatant airing of their dirty laundry actually made me see her in a new, albeit disgusting, light. Now I finally understood why she insisted I had to be here. She wanted to force my hand, pressure me into a quick divorce so she could marry Ethan, using the baby as leverage. And Ethan? He didn’t seem worried at all about becoming gossip fodder. So much for Ethan’s “innocent little sister.” What a calculating bitch! Jessica then picked up a champagne flute and walked towards me, smiling. “Claire, I really, truly have you to thank!” I returned her smile, unfazed. “Since you’re so grateful, let me give you a big gift in return.” I snatched the microphone from her hand. “Excuse me, servers? Could you please open the doors? Let’s welcome the baby’s biological father, Mr. Rick Johnson!” Under the confused stares of the crowd, a rough-looking man dressed in cheap clothes stormed in, fury radiating off him. He looked like a gorilla, built and angry. He saw Jessica, standing there pregnant and glammed up, and slapped her hard across the face. The force of the blow sent Jessica sprawling to the ground. He grabbed her by the hair, yelling, “You rotten bitch! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” “Took me long enough, but I finally found you!” Jessica scrambled, panicked. “No, no, no! You’ve got the wrong person!” The man sneered. “Even if you were ashes, I’d still recognize you!”

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Brenda was a single mother. She worked diligently for my family for 20 years. Before the holidays, she had an appendectomy and had no one to care for her at home. So, I let her bring her daughter over to stay with us through New Year’s. On New Year’s Eve, I gave Crystal a cash gift in an envelope. She pulled it out and counted it right in front of me. “Tsk, only $2000? That wouldn’t even cover one of your handbags.” A few days later. I noticed that one of my classic monogrammed LV bags in the closet looked… faded. 1 I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Not until I managed to completely rub off one of the ‘L’s on the bag’s surface. Only then was I certain. This bag wasn’t mine. I immediately called Brenda. Half a month earlier, I had gone out of town on business and asked Brenda to take several of my regularly used bags from my closet to be professionally cleaned and conditioned. They were just returned the day before yesterday. “Oh my, what… what happened here?” Having been around me for so long, Brenda knew instantly this bag was a fake. I asked Brenda where the bags were sent for maintenance. “The same place you always go to!” That shop is owned by my best friend Chloe’s family. Never mind that she’d have no reason to swap my bag. Even if she did, she wouldn’t use such a crudely made fake! “Did you pick up the bags? Did anyone touch them after they were brought back?” “Actually, I didn’t pick them up. That day, I mentioned I needed to get the bags, and my daughter said she happened to be going shopping near there anyway. So she brought them back.” After Brenda finished speaking, I was silent for a long moment. I still remembered Crystal’s first day here. I had worked late and came home to find her upstairs in my room. Staring obsessively at my closet full of designer bags. Brenda seemed to realize something and quickly tried to clear her daughter’s name: “It couldn’t be Crystal. Sophia, Crystal wouldn’t do something like this! There must be some misunderstanding…” “Alright, Brenda, I didn’t say Crystal did it. I’m hungry. Can you make me a bowl of simple pasta?” Brenda let out a sigh of relief, agreed readily, and hurried to the kitchen to cook. I checked the recently installed security camera footage. It confirmed that the bag brought back wasn’t my original one. Meaning, it had been swapped somewhere along the way. While I was eating, Crystal returned. She acted as if she didn’t see me, glanced past without a greeting, and sashayed upstairs. “Crystal.” I wiped my mouth and stopped her. “I heard you helped pick up my bags the other day?” Crystal paused, a flicker of panic crossing her face. But a second later, she smoothed her hair, looking nonchalant. “Yeah, what’s up? Is there a problem?” I walked up to her, looked her straight in the eye, and said word by word: “One of the bags was swapped for a fake.” Crystal instantly flew into a rage. “What are you trying to say?” “Are you saying I swapped your bag?!” 2 Before I could respond, Crystal burst into loud sobs. Wailing that I looked down on her, accusing her without any proof. Brenda quickly arrived, drawn by the commotion. She protectively pulled Crystal into her arms. “Oh honey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying so hard?” “You just had surgery, you can’t cry like this. Tell Mommy what happened.” Crystal sobbed out her version of the story. Brenda shot up, confronting me loudly: “Sophia, didn’t you say you didn’t suspect Crystal?” “Crystal is my daughter, I know her character best! She would never do something like this!” “You can treat me however you want, but you can’t disrespect Crystal like this!” Brenda vented her anger. Afterward, she took a deep breath, stood up, and stared at me coldly. “Even though Crystal didn’t take your bag. I won’t let anyone look down on my daughter.” “I don’t want this month’s salary. Consider it compensation for your bag.” Brenda had worked for my family for 20 years. You could say she watched me grow up. My mother passed away from illness when I was very young. My father remarried quickly. They say when you get a stepmother, you get a stepfather too. When my stepmother mistreated me, and my father turned a blind eye, It was Brenda who stepped up, secretly looking out for me. After all these years, even though she’s older and slower, I kept her around, paying her several times more than others. Because in my heart, I considered her family. I thought she felt the same way. But I never expected… Seeing the hostility in Brenda’s eyes, a sudden tightness gripped my chest. I did suspect Crystal swapped my bag. Because after she arrived at my house, Two of my necklaces had already gone missing. And now a bag had been swapped. Besides Brenda and me, there was no one else in the house. Suspecting her was logical, wasn’t it? “Mom, I didn’t take the bag! Why should you give up your salary?” “Didn’t you say she’s loaded? A whole room of luxury goods, and she makes such a fuss over one missing bag!” “Are all rich people this stingy?” I almost laughed out of sheer anger. Did she have any idea that I had sponsored her college tuition? Stone-faced, I dragged all her luggage outside. “Get out. You’re not welcome here.” Crystal cried, pleading with Brenda for help. Brenda’s heart ached, tears streaming down her face, but she didn’t dare step out of the house. Because she could see I was genuinely furious. And besides Crystal, she still had a useless son to support. She couldn’t afford to lose this job. 3 After Crystal left, Brenda quickly apologized to me. Saying she spoke foolishly in the heat of the moment and hoped I wouldn’t hold it against her. Looking at her increasingly wrinkled face and frail body, My heart softened for a moment. I waved my hand dismissively and sent her away. I thought that with Crystal gone, life would return to its quiet, stable, uneventful routine. But I never expected that after returning from another business trip, Two more bags were missing from my house. My first instinct was to check the security footage, only to find it was blank for the days I was away. I found the camera – the plug had been pulled out. Suppressing my anger, I found Brenda busy in the kitchen. “The chicken soup is almost ready, Sophia. Have some water and rest for a bit.” I stared at Brenda’s busy figure and spoke calmly: “Brenda, have we had any guests recently?” Brenda’s hand paused. “N-no.” “Then how did two bags disappear from my closet?” “What? N-no way. There are so many bags in the closet, m-maybe you miscounted?” I walked over and turned off the stove. Brenda froze on the spot. She hesitated, turned, glanced at me, then quickly looked down. “Brenda, things are disappearing from the house for no reason. You need to give me an explanation.” “Well, I really don’t know…” “Then I’ll have to call the police.” Brenda immediately grabbed my arm. “Don’t! Don’t call the police!” “Look, Crystal said she needed to start her internship, entering the workforce, and she was afraid people would look down on her.” “So she came over, wanting to borrow a couple of bags from you.” “You happened to be out of town, so I made the decision myself and let her take two you don’t use often.” “But don’t worry, Sophia, Crystal said she just needed them for interviews.” “She’ll return them as soon as she gets a job.” I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Brenda’s phone rang. She answered immediately. A minute later, Brenda hung up, her face beaming with excitement. “Sophia, Crystal said she found a job!” “She said she’s coming over for dinner tonight, asked me to make a few extra dishes to celebrate!” “Oh, right, she knows you’re back. She said she’ll bring your bags back then too.” Brenda turned the stove back on and got busy cooking again. She muttered to herself, a hint of disdain in her voice. “See? Told you not to worry. Crystal said she’d return the bags once she got a job! She doesn’t lie.” I stood there, watching Brenda’s bustling back. She was even humming happily. I finally believed that sometimes, you get so speechless you actually laugh. Fine. Let’s wait for Crystal to arrive. I really wanted to hear what she had to say. 4 At seven in the evening, Crystal arrived fashionably late. She carried a large shopping bag in her left hand and a bottle of red wine in her right. Her expression was incredibly arrogant. As soon as she arrived, she sat down at the dining table. “Oh my god, I’m starving. Mom, when you look for your next job, can you find someone who doesn’t live in the middle of nowhere?” “The driver didn’t even know the way, it was pitch black the whole drive. What kind of rich person lives in a dump like this?” Brenda immediately ran out upon hearing her voice. She glanced nervously at me, then quickly told Crystal to watch her mouth. “What did I say wrong? Didn’t you tell me she’s broke now, that she’s selling this house to pay off debts?” “Anyway, you won’t be working here much longer, what’s there to be afraid of!” It dawned on me. No wonder Brenda’s attitude had changed so drastically recently. Turns out she overheard me calling a real estate agent about selling the house. Yes, that’s right. I was planning to sell this house. Because it held painful childhood memories – My mother’s death, the abuse I suffered, and later, the birth of my father and stepmother’s son… My life became even harder then. Soon after, my father took his new wife and son abroad to pursue opportunities, transferring the deed of this house to me. And now, I had already bought a penthouse in the city’s most exclusive new high-rise. I was just waiting to finalize things here and move. But I had been too busy with work recently and hadn’t had a chance to tell Brenda. I never imagined she’d misunderstand and think I was broke, needing to sell the house to cover debts… “Sophia, since Crystal already mentioned it, I won’t hide it from you either.” “Someone has already helped me find a new family. I’ll be starting there at the beginning of next month.” “Look at you, already having to sell your house. You won’t have money to pay my salary soon anyway.” “Let’s just part ways amicably.” I looked at the mother-daughter duo before me. After a long moment, I chuckled softly. “Alright, no problem.” “But Crystal, you took my things. Shouldn’t you return them first?” Crystal sneered, then tossed two bags out from her large shopping bag. “Aren’t they just a couple of worthless bags? Here, take them back!” Worthless bags? I almost burst out laughing. Brenda had indeed been considerate. She knew to give her daughter two bags I didn’t use often. Except these two “infrequently used” bags were ones I had spent a fortune and jumped through hoops to acquire. And now Crystal was calling them worthless bags. I carefully inspected the bags. The light wasn’t bright enough, so I went and turned on every light in the room. Crystal became even more dismissive, eyeing me scornfully. “Is all this necessary?” “You used to have money, after all. It’s just a bag. Anyone who didn’t know better would think this bag is worth millions!” “It doesn’t even have a logo! I was too embarrassed to even take it out for my interview today!” Seeing the obvious scratches on the hardware and the greasy stains inside, my heart ached. I looked up, staring coldly at Crystal. “You’re right, this bag isn’t worth millions. Just eighty to ninety thousand dollars.” “And now you’ve ruined it.” “Tell me, how are you going to pay for it?”

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While I was fighting over discount groceries at the supermarket, Mark was dropping a fortune on jewelry for his secretary. He gave me the freebie that came with it as an anniversary gift. I looked at the pile of discounted groceries on the table and the necklace marked ‘promotional item.’ While I was nearly dying from an allergic reaction, Mark was fussing over his secretary’s paper cut. Later, I wore a wedding dress and married my childhood friend. Mark, however, choked back tears and asked, “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t marry anyone but me?” 1 The night Mark didn’t come home again, I finally didn’t call him. Usually, I’d complain and then call him again and again, urging him to come back. At first, Mark would just say, “Be right there.” Later, he got annoyed when I asked too much. “I just don’t want to come back. Seeing you looking like such a mess ruins my appetite.” I started spiraling, buying tons of makeup to hide how tired I looked. Instead, my face broke out like crazy. When Mark saw it, his expression was pure mockery. “Ugh, Sarah, you look awful. Trying too hard just makes it worse.” I unpinned his chat from the top of my contacts list. Mark came home. He reeked of alcohol, and underneath it, the unmistakable smell of someone else’s cheap perfume. “Sarah, you’re getting lazier. You didn’t even make dinner.” I looked at Mark, exhausted. “Have you even looked at the time?” The clock on the wall showed midnight. Mark was momentarily speechless, maybe feeling a flicker of guilt. “It was Megan’s birthday today, so things ran a little late.” Megan was the new secretary, the darling of their department, spoiled since she was a kid. She and Mark were inseparable. They’d often share food off the same plate, sip from the same drink. They’d even crashed on the same couch sometimes. I often asked them to keep their distance, reminding them we were engaged. At first, Mark listened and kept some distance, but eventually, he just stopped caring. “If Megan hadn’t gone abroad back then, do you think you’d even have a chance with me?” And somehow, Megan found out about this. At parties, Megan would sometimes bring the conversation around to me. “Sarah, see? I’m not getting too close to Mark.” “Mark, you shouldn’t come to karaoke with us. Sarah will just accuse me of flirting with you again.” Megan’s words always made Mark’s face darken instantly. He increasingly felt like I was tearing him and his “best buddy” apart. Soon, rumors spread through our circle: Mark’s girlfriend was a control freak, a total psycho. Mark never defended me, not once. It was as if that’s just who I was. Seeing my indifferent expression now, that tiny bit of guilt in Mark vanished instantly. He slammed his mug down on the table, shattering it on the floor. “Who do you think you’re giving that attitude to, Sarah?” The ceramic exploded near my feet, fragments flying up and hitting my face. Stinging cuts appeared. That mug was a gift from Mark when we first moved in together. Back then, his company hadn’t taken off yet. He wasn’t Mr. Thompson, the boss. He was just Mark. His voice choked with emotion, he had said, “I will never let you down.” Later, he could afford endless mugs, but he was also short on genuine feelings. Seeing the blood on my face, Mark sobered up instantly. Guilt over coming home late and cheating finally surfaced. “Sarah, are you okay? I just got a little worked up.” I didn’t say anything, just wiped the blood from my face with my hand. Mark, uncharacteristically, fumbled for a Band-Aid. My heart warmed for a second, only to plummet the next. 2 “This is Megan’s Band-Aid. You’re always picking on her, but see how nice she still is to you?” “Can’t you learn from her? Stop being so petty.” So, all along, he thought I was petty, jealous of his little girl crush. I felt the cuts sting, and red patches started appearing all over my face. “What’s in the Band-Aid?” Mark wasn’t used to my sharp tone and faltered slightly. “Uh, I think it’s peach scented.” “Megan knows I’m allergic to peaches.” How could she not know? Once, Megan deliberately gave me a dress for a party. She’d secretly rubbed peach fuzz inside it. I didn’t notice anything until the party started. My whole body turned red, my face swelled up like a balloon. Mark thought I did it on purpose just to embarrass him. He looked at me, writhing in allergic agony, with nothing but contempt. “Figures. Straight out of the sticks. Can’t even handle a simple party.” “She’s really punching way above her weight being with me.” Megan, meanwhile, put on her best pitiful act. “Mark, maybe Sarah didn’t like the dress I gave her? She looks really unwell.” Of course, Mark wouldn’t let Megan feel the slightest bit wronged. “Uncultured thing. You’re just embarrassing me.” My throat was swelling shut. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t get a word out. I knew Mark wouldn’t believe me anyway. Finally, I was taken to the hospital. As I was being helped out, Megan whispered in my ear. “I know you’re allergic to peach fuzz. I did it on purpose.” “That’s what you get for stealing Mark. It’s karma.” Someone who hates you will stoop to anything to hurt you, while the person who supposedly loves you doesn’t even know your allergies. Eventually, a shred of guilt must have pricked Mark, because he drove me to the hospital. The car was full of traces of another woman. A pink Hello Kitty keychain, the scent of gardenia perfume, even a half-eaten bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos on the floor. Mark was a notorious neat freak. Once, I ate a Snickers bar in his car because my blood sugar was low. He kicked me out immediately. “You got crumbs all over the car! Are you disgusting?” It was below freezing, maybe 20 degrees Fahrenheit. I walked for almost an hour in a thin sweater before I could get a cab. I went home with a raging fever. And Mark just said: “So I made you walk a couple of miles? Do you have to be so dramatic?” Mark noticed me looking at the car’s interior and seemed a bit sheepish. “Megan’s always forgetting things. I’ll give them back to her later.” My head was pounding from the allergic reaction, and I didn’t have the energy to listen to his excuses. Suddenly, Mark’s phone buzzed. He snatched it up immediately. His face lit up with undisguised joy. “Megan? How are you?” “Okay, okay, I’m coming right over. Stay right there, don’t move.” He hung up. The car speeded up abruptly, the inertia making me feel even sicker. “Megan cut her hand. I need to go check on her.” Mark didn’t drive to the hospital. He parked downstairs from Megan’s apartment. I watched him go upstairs, feeling my breathing get heavier and heavier. I stared at the lights in Megan’s apartment until they went out. He never came back down. In that instant, despair washed over me completely. The Mark who promised to always protect me died that night. With my last ounce of strength, I dialed a number I hadn’t called in far too long. “Help me.” 3 When Liam got me to the hospital, I was covered in hives from the allergic reaction, nearly dead from anaphylactic shock. I was unconscious for a long time before slowly waking up. “Liam.” The boyishness was gone from the man before me, replaced by maturity. Seeing me awake, he looked relieved, but his words were laced with sarcasm. “You really love making things hard for yourself, don’t you? Why did you have to stick by that guy while he was building his empire from scratch?” “Isn’t everyone in our family loaded? Was there any need to suffer like that?” I had been rebellious, refusing to let my parents arrange my life, so I ran off with Mark. I supported him as he started with nothing, only to end up like this. Just as I was about to thank him, Mark called. “Sarah, where the hell are you? Didn’t make breakfast? Didn’t iron my shirt?” “When did you get so lazy?” Liam, beside me, frowned deeply. He seemed shocked that the person Sarah ran away for was this guy. “I’m in the hospital. Hire a housekeeper.” Mark on the other end seemed to remember abandoning me, allergic and alone, in the car the other night. His voice turned hesitant. “Okay, uh, I’ll have Sam bring you some soup. I’ll pick you up this afternoon?” I could hear Megan in the background. “It’s all my fault. I’m the reason Sarah’s in the hospital.” Megan’s cloying voice completely erased any guilt or concern Mark might have felt for me. “She’s just being dramatic. It’s just an allergic reaction. What’s the big deal?” Yeah, just an allergic reaction. But if Liam had been just a little later, I could have died from shock. “This is the guy you chose? Total idiot.” He was still as blunt as ever, but I didn’t have the strength to argue. Everything he said was true. At noon, Sam brought me some snacks and drinks. Mark checked my social media all afternoon and saw nothing. He called again. “Did you get the stuff I sent? Why didn’t you post about it?” After all, I used to post pictures of everything he gave me, showing the world how happy I was. Until the day I overheard Mark saying dismissively: “Sarah’s such a hick. Gets excited over such small things she has to post them.” “Women with no class are so easy to please.” So that’s what he really thought of me. I replied flatly. “Saw it. Didn’t feel the need.” I hung up. Surprisingly, Mark actually showed up on time that afternoon to pick me up. With Megan. He was never on time before, usually making me wait an hour or two, then fobbing me off with “work was busy.” Megan sat in the front passenger seat, looking smug. “Sarah, Mark and I just ran into each other. You don’t mind me sitting up front, right?” The old me would have definitely thrown a fit, demanding why Megan was in the passenger seat. I couldn’t be bothered arguing. I just got in the back. Mark sensed my low mood and, for once, actually offered an explanation. “Ran into her after work. Just giving her a lift.” Just as Mark was about to start the car, a pair of long legs slid into the back seat next to me. Liam leaned close. “Hey sis, don’t leave me behind.” Then, addressing the front seats: “Hi there. I’m Liam, Sarah’s childhood friend.” 3 Mark’s face turned green. He had no idea I had a childhood friend. After all, I always told people I was an orphan, with no one to rely on. “Since when do you have a childhood friend? How come I never knew?” I didn’t answer directly. “I told you before. You probably forgot.” “You can have your childhood friend, why can’t I have mine?” My counter-question caught Mark off guard. He fell silent. But Megan wouldn’t miss this opportunity. She started chatting with Mark about their childhood memories again. Usually, they’d be deep in conversation in the car, making me feel like an outsider. But now, Mark was still annoyed about what I’d just said, so he completely ignored Megan. Megan looked awkward. Suddenly, she seemed to remember something. “Mark gave me a necklace the other day. Easily worth seven figures.” She glanced pointedly at my neck. “Yours is the freebie that came with it, right, Sarah?” I touched my neck, my heart sinking. That morning, I’d been so pleased I managed to snag those discount groceries, thinking I got a great deal. Turns out, Mark had casually dropped a fortune on Megan. Seven figures. How long would it take me to save that much? Mark spent it without a second thought. I looked at the promotional necklace he gave me for our anniversary. I thought maybe Mark was finally changing his ways, but it turned out to be just as worthless as he thought I was. When we finally got home, Mark immediately started yelling. “How can you be such a slut, always hitting on guys?” “Do you really think I believe your crap? How could he possibly be your childhood friend?” After listening, I didn’t answer his question, just shot back: “You can hang out with your childhood pal to cure your loneliness, but I can’t see mine?” “Why is it okay for you but not for me?” My rapid-fire questions left Mark speechless. He rarely saw me this angry. “Let’s break up.” My next words made Mark even angrier. “Sarah, you’ve got some nerve now, huh? You dare break up with me? For some pretty boy?” “He’s just after your money right now! If you leave me, you’re broke! Who’s gonna want you then?” I laughed bitterly. So that’s how Mark saw me all along. He thought I was only with him for his money. But what about when he had nothing, and I was willing to run away with him? What was that then? My eyes reddened. It felt like I was truly seeing this man for the first time in years. I turned and went back to the bedroom to start packing. In the bedroom trash can, I saw a used condom. And in the closet, some sexy lingerie that definitely wasn’t mine. I hadn’t been home for a few days. It was obvious whose these were. I showed these items to Mark. For once, real panic flickered across his face. “Megan’s just… forgetful sometimes. This…” I cut him off. “You should throw out used condoms. They’re dirty.” I don’t know which word hit Mark the wrong way. He snapped, “None of your damn business,” and stormed out. As I finished packing, I realized I barely owned anything. When we were poor, I didn’t dare buy things. Now that we had money, I couldn’t shake the deep-seated feeling that I didn’t deserve nice things. Liam had been waiting downstairs for a while. He leaned against his Maybach, glancing at the single suitcase beside me. “That’s it? You really went through a lot these past few years, huh?” I gave a weak smile. “Wouldn’t have given up if I hadn’t gone through it, right?” Once, I was full of passion, thinking we could spend our lives together. Later, I realized it was just wishful thinking on my part. We stumbled through poverty together, but when wealth came, I was left behind alone. “Thanks for what you did in the car today.” Liam shrugged it off. “Wanted to do that for a long time.” Mark called again. “Sarah, bring me a box of condoms. Don’t slack off.”

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My wife Chloe and I had been married for two years. On our anniversary, her ex-boyfriend posted an ultrasound picture on social media. “Big news, everyone! Huge thanks to my girl Chloe for carrying this for me! I’m finally going to be a dad!” My fists clenched. I quietly commented: “Congrats to the three of you.” The next second, Chloe called me, furious. Her voice blasted through the phone, full of accusations. She practically yelled, “I’m just helping Noah out with surrogacy! God, can’t you be less petty about this? You’re supposed to be the man here!” After hanging up, I decided I had to deal with this massive betrayal myself. 1 I bent down and picked up the two crumpled sheets of paper I’d stepped on. I’d stayed up all night making them. One was a checklist for expectant mothers, the other for the baby’s needs. Chloe had never been enthusiastic about sex with me, nor did she like kids. She always said children were inherently difficult, noisy, and mischievous, draining too much energy to raise. But two days ago, I’d accidentally found an ultrasound report in a drawer in the study. It was tucked inside a small, fancy gift box, like a present. At first, I thought Chloe was pregnant and planning to surprise me. I was ecstatic, like an idiot, spending all my time researching what expectant fathers needed to do. But now, it seemed the surprise wasn’t for me! And the child… wasn’t mine either. Nausea surged in my throat. I went to the bathroom, soaked the two checklists I’d prepared in the sink, and threw them in the trash. Chloe came home unusually early that day. I checked the time – only 10 PM. Usually, she wouldn’t be back until the early hours of the morning. She called my name, “Ethan?” I was lying in the bedroom and didn’t answer. She didn’t call again. A little later, I heard the shower running in the bathroom. After her shower, she came into the dark bedroom and quietly lay down beside me without turning on the light. I felt a soft, tingling touch on my back. It was the first time she had ever initiated holding me like this. Then, she buried her head in my back, her tone pleading in a way I’d never heard before, “Honey, nothing happened between him and me, really.” “I only agreed to be the surrogate to help him fulfill his dream of having a family. Noah really wants kids. I promise, as soon as the baby’s born, I’m done with him! I’ll cut all ties!” As she spoke, her hand started to wander downwards. I didn’t say anything. I just removed her hand from my body and shifted slightly away. Sensing my rejection, she instantly became annoyed. “I’ve already stooped this low trying to appease you, what more do you want? Don’t forget you said my past didn’t matter, you swore you’d treat me right.” “Can’t you be a little more generous? God! I could have just lied and said it was yours, but I told you the truth out of respect! And this is how you react? So small-minded.” She poured out all her dissatisfaction, then finished with: “I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight. And you should think about how I’ve been treating you lately. When was the last time you wanted it and I didn’t give it to you?” The door slammed shut. I couldn’t help but laugh – at my pathetic marriage, and at my own blindness. In her eyes, saying a few soft words was doing me a huge favor. As if telling me the truth meant I had to accept it, otherwise I was the petty one. She hated the idea of having children so much, yet she was willing to carry a baby for ten months for that man. In the darkness, staring at the ceiling outline, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of disillusionment. This relationship… I didn’t want it anymore. 2 When I woke up the next day, Chloe was already gone. I knew exactly where she’d gone. She’d been leaving early and coming back late these past few days. Who else would she be spending time with? Chloe didn’t like working hard, so I’d given her a cushy Vice President title at the company I owned, a job that mostly involved signing papers and drinking coffee. Consequently, my assistant had called me several times looking for her. The assistant said Chloe hadn’t been to the office lately. I didn’t say much, but a different idea started forming in my mind. After preparing some documents, I drove to the city administration building, planning to terminate the portion of shares I had transferred to her. Coincidentally, while submitting the paperwork, I ran into Chloe. Noah had his arm around her waist. She frowned at me and asked, “Ethan, are you following me?” I didn’t answer her. Instead, I looked at Noah. Noah awkwardly avoided my gaze but didn’t remove his hand from Chloe’s waist. “Chloe, don’t be ridiculous! Why would Ethan follow us? We’re being open about this. As a man, Ethan understands how important having kids is, right?” Noah’s slick words immediately shifted the focus onto me. I replied with a cold smile, “Totally. So you two better make sure you do a good job carrying on that family line.” My bluntness angered Chloe. She pushed me. “What is wrong with you? I told you, I just see Noah like a brother.” My lower back hit the hard corner of the wall, making me hiss in pain. Seeing this, Noah immediately stepped closer, feigning concern. He verbally scolded Chloe, but his eyes held a flash of obvious provocation and smugness. Disgusted, I pushed him away, not wanting to exchange another word with them. Unexpectedly, Noah suddenly dropped to one knee, crying out that he’d twisted his ankle. Chloe rushed to help him up, then yelled at me, “If anything happens to Noah, I’ll never forgive you!” My back throbbed, breaking out in a cold sweat, yet I watched helplessly as my own wife ignored me, abandoning me to help another man leave. I stood there, watching them walk away, and suddenly felt a strange sense of relief. Relief that Chloe wasn’t carrying my child. How could someone who didn’t even love her husband possibly love a child they had together? Back at the office, I met with the lawyer I’d contacted earlier and drafted a divorce agreement. Just as I was about to message Chloe, I saw she had updated her social media feed. “Hope our baby grows up tall and strong like his daddy!” The photo showed the back of a man. I recognized him. It was Noah. Below were comments from Chloe’s best friends. “That back doesn’t look like your husband’s… uh oh, hehe.” “Wow, making big moves quietly! The old flame is back.” “OMG, I ship it so hard! After all this time, you finally fulfilled that pact about having kids!” Soon, I saw Chloe’s reply. “Don’t talk nonsense! I’m just helping out with surrogacy. Are you guys trying to get my husband to divorce me with all this gossip?” After that, her friends replied with variations of, “Got it, understood.” But Ashley (her childhood best friend) added: “Seriously? Why keep a petty guy like that? Just divorce him and be with Noah. Everyone knows you haven’t gotten over him for years. Just follow your heart!” Ashley had been Chloe’s best friend since they were kids. But she never really liked me, always thinking I wasn’t good enough for her friend, and certainly not as good as Noah. She said I wasn’t as handsome as Noah, not as smooth-talking, not as romantic. In her eyes, I couldn’t compare to Noah in any way. For Chloe’s sake, I had never said anything, often even buying gifts to appease these demanding friends. But now that my marriage with Chloe was over, I didn’t need to worry about anyone’s feelings. So, I slowly typed out a reply: “Don’t worry, the divorce is happening soon. It must have been hard worrying about Chloe for all these years.” Then, I went to my own profile and posted a picture – the divorce agreement I had just drafted. “This nightmare is finally ending.” 3 As soon as I posted it, my phone immediately blew up with questions from curious friends. Chloe’s loyal friends, however, conveniently chose to ignore it, though I imagined they were probably calling Chloe to celebrate. Soon, my phone started ringing non-stop. Not just my parents, but Chloe’s parents called too. Chloe was calling repeatedly as well. I declined her calls. But the phone kept buzzing relentlessly, like a persistent kitten. Finally, I texted my parents back and then switched my phone to airplane mode. “Mom, Dad, I’ll explain everything in person when I get home tonight.” As evening approached, I left the office. Downstairs, I happened to run into Chloe, who had just parked her car. She got out and stormed towards me. “Ethan, what is the meaning of this? You’re divorcing me just because I’m helping him with surrogacy?” “What’s wrong with me being a surrogate? It’s not like I broke the law! Are you ever going to drop this?” Her barrage of questions made me feel sick, but at this point, there was no need to argue. I ignored her anger, walked past her down the steps, and headed towards the parking lot. But she grabbed my arm forcefully. “How long are you going to keep this up? I already told you, I’ll cut ties with him after the baby is born! I’ve compromised this much for you, how much more do you want to push me?” Her shameless words echoed in my ears. I fought back my anger, turned around, and stared hard at her. “Don’t ruin your pure relationship for my sake. Ashley’s right, you should follow your heart.” “Why would you want a petty man like me anyway? You should find a generous husband, one who can accept you having another man’s baby.” “Remember to sign the divorce papers.” With that, I yanked my arm free from her grip and walked to my car. Behind me, I heard her impotent roar, “Fine, Ethan! Don’t you regret this!” How could I possibly regret it? I should actually thank her for this stunt. It finally made me realize I’d be much better off without her. When I got home, my parents immediately pulled me aside, asking why I was getting divorced. My mom’s eyes were red; she had clearly been crying. I told them about Chloe carrying Noah’s baby through surrogacy. My mom, heartbroken and angry, hugged me and cried, “I told you that woman was trouble! How could she do something like this!” My dad was silent for a moment, then said firmly, “You have to divorce her.” I pressed my lips together, finally letting my guard down in front of the people closest to me. My parents had never approved of my marriage. They always said they couldn’t see any love for me in Chloe’s eyes. But I had pursued Chloe for five years, finally getting her to agree to date me. Back then, I wouldn’t listen to anyone’s advice, convinced I could make Chloe fall in love with me eventually. Clearly, I failed. We had reached the point of divorce. All those years of effort taught me that you really can’t force love, like trying to sweeten a sour fruit. It doesn’t even quench your thirst. I waited for a long time, but Chloe still hadn’t signed the papers. Finally, after I told her I was going to file for divorce legally, she reluctantly sent me a few messages. “Can we meet tomorrow? I’ll have Ashley and the others apologize to you too.” “Please stop making a scene. Being pregnant is really tiring. I’m caught between Noah and you, and choosing either side isn’t the best solution.” “I apologize to you. Can you please try to understand that I’m pregnant right now? After the baby is born, I promise I’ll see him less!” 4 See him less? She kept saying she didn’t know who to choose between me and Noah, but her actions had proven countless times that she always chose Noah. On our wedding night, she abandoned me to pick up Noah, who was returning from abroad. On my mom’s birthday, she skipped the celebration to attend Noah’s promotion party. And on our anniversary this year? She was already pregnant with Noah’s child. In the past, whenever she bought gifts for holidays, she’d always buy two. One for me, one for Noah, maintaining this ridiculous facade of fairness. I’d complained plenty of times when I was drunk, but she always promised it wouldn’t happen again. Yet that “next time” never ended. If I pushed it too much, she’d call me petty and small-minded for a man. Thinking back, the happiest moment with her was the day I proposed. I had planned many surprises. The proposal took place in Norway, under the Northern Lights, where the stars seemed close enough to touch. Finally, witnessed by the aurora, I placed the sparkling ring on her finger. The look in her eyes when she said yes was sincere and passionate; even her vows sounded heartfelt and warm. But that proposal day was so long ago, so long that I could no longer piece together the complete memory. So long ago that I had never seen that earnest Chloe again. When Chloe saw I hadn’t replied to her messages, she called me directly: “Ethan, I’ve already booked a restaurant. Let’s all get together so they can apologize properly. See you tomorrow, okay?” I asked flatly, “Is Noah coming?” “Yes.” “Alright then. See you tomorrow.” If apologies were in order, why should they only apologize to me? Early the next morning, Chloe and Noah were waiting for me in the parking lot. She hadn’t driven, so I had no choice but to let them in my car. Noah opened the back door and helped Chloe get in. He gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry about this, Ethan. Chloe’s pregnant, I don’t feel comfortable with her sitting up front by herself.” I smiled back faintly. “No problem.” In the past, being treated like their chauffeur like this would have definitely bothered me. But now, nothing they did, no matter how outrageous, could make me angry anymore. Interestingly, though, whenever I drove, the passenger seat next to me was always empty. Chloe always chose to sit in the back with him. When we arrived at the private room in the restaurant, Chloe’s group of friends were already seated. Ashley was the first to approach me, greeting me loudly and pulling me to sit next to her. “Come on, Ethan, do me a favor and sit here. I’ll give you a proper apology in a bit.” Her tone held no hint of apology, only a subtle challenge. During the meal, Ashley first poured me a glass of wine. Then she announced she would penalize herself with a drink, raised her own glass, downed it in one gulp, and began her apology. “Ethan, I’ve always been blunt, so don’t take it personally. I honestly don’t like you, and I don’t think you’re good enough for my best friend.” “But what can I do? My friend’s head over heels. So, for her sake, I sincerely apologize.” She then picked up another glass, raised it towards me, and said, “I’ll drink another one as punishment. Was I wrong the other day? Okay? I’m sorry.” I leaned closer and sniffed her glass. Not a trace of alcohol. I didn’t say anything, just chuckled softly. Seeing the atmosphere seemingly relax, Chloe quickly urged everyone to continue eating. But then Noah stood up, holding a glass of hard liquor, acting as if he were already drunk. “Ethan, buddy, let me apologize too. Chloe’s feelings for me… they run deep. Sorry you got caught in the middle, man.” Chloe quickly pulled him back down. “What are you doing, Noah? It’s not your fault. I chose to be the surrogate.” After saying that, Chloe looked directly into my eyes and slowly said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t handle this relationship well.” “Not so fast,” I interrupted. “There’s someone else who deserves to hear that apology too.” As I finished speaking, the door to the private room opened again. A sophisticated woman with flawless makeup walked in, wearing high heels.

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My twin sister, an influencer desperate for a comeback, abused me in my hospital bed and filmed it all. She pretended the footage was of her to milk sympathy from her followers. She ended up making bank, but wouldn’t spend a dime on my treatment. Then, afraid I’d expose her, she smothered me with a pillow. Next thing I know, I wake up. Back on the day her video went viral. This time, I’ll make sure she’s ruined, disgraced, and doesn’t scam a single cent. 1 Overnight, the video of me lying helpless in a hospital bed blew up. Mom stared at the like count, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Get more footage, film more! This could go huge!” Then, feigning concern, “Hmm, maybe it’s not tragic enough. Needs more punch to really go viral.” She shook her head sadly, then looked straight at me, her eyes practically glowing. “Jessica, honey, you need to tough it out for your sister’s career. Remember how you hogged all the nutrients in the womb? Payback time.” Mom ripped at my hospital gown, pinching my skin hard. My body was already a canvas of black and blue marks. Her nails dug into my flesh, twisting and pressing brutally. The higher the likes climbed, the harder she hurt me. To craft an even more ‘authentic’ image, Ashley even used a lit cigarette to burn the skin around my IV sites. My hands clenched in pain, my whole body started shaking. Ashley couldn’t stand any resistance. Her slaps rained down on me. Harder each time. “You owe me this, Jessica.” My frail, sick body couldn’t take it. Blood started trickling from the corner of my mouth. They filmed me like this, then carefully arranged the blankets to hide the worst of the bruises before posting. Sure enough, a few hours later, it exploded. Top trending topic. People online rushed to donate money for ‘my’ medical bills. Ashley, rolling in the dough, panicked that I’d spill the beans. She pressed a pillow over my face, her hands clamping tight around my neck. She suffocated me. Just like that. Before I blacked out, I saw Mom patting Ashley’s shoulder. “It’s okay, honey, it’s okay. She was just paying you back, like she should.” Mom’s words were like daggers, slicing me up piece by piece. My body died. But my heart? That died the day I realized Mom would always choose Ashley. 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was back. The day the video went viral. This time, I didn’t fight back against their abuse. I even ‘helpfully’ suggested they buy some engagement, boost the post to hit the trending topics. “I’m gonna be famous! I’m gonna be famous! Hahahaha!” Ashley danced around the hospital room like a lunatic. I watched her pathetic little jig, my face cold. The higher you climb, the harder you fall. This time, she’d shatter. Fueled by Ashley and Mom’s promotion, the video shot to number one on the trending list. Then came the shriek that filled the room. “How?! How could they know? How did they find out the truth?!” Ashley’s face twisted into an ugly mask. She crouched down, clawing at her hair. Mom just collapsed onto a chair, eyes vacant, looking like she’d aged ten years in an instant. A small smile played on my lips. I picked up my phone and scrolled through the storm of online hate directed at them. “God, she’s so ugly and shameless. People will do anything for money.” “Ugh, using her sick sister to scam people? She deserves the worst.” “So disgusting. I actually felt sorry for her and donated quite a bit. What a lowlife bitch.” … The online sentiment flipped overnight. Sympathy turned to venom. The virtual spit almost drowned Ashley. She had no choice but to delete all her accounts. Hiding behind her screen like the coward she was. Suddenly, Ashley glared at me, pure malice in her eyes. She lunged. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You ruined me! Jessica, I’m gonna kill you!” Before her fist could land, a doctor rushed in and escorted her out. Seeing Ashley losing her mind, pacing frantically, felt unbelievably satisfying. Sweet, sweet justice. 3 The night the video first exploded, I begged every doctor and nurse I could find. Tears streaming, I described the hell I was living through. How my mother and sister were using my illness to scam people online. The medical staff listened, horrified and heartbroken. They all stepped up, offering to testify for me. And thanks to Ashley spending money to boost the post? There was no way she could spin this now. The truth was out there, amplified. My medical bills got covered by genuine donations from strangers who heard the real story. After I recovered, I found a decent job. It wasn’t long before Mom showed up, demanding money. Apparently, Ashley had gotten pregnant by some guy who’d recently struck it rich. His family demanded a $100,000 ‘dowry’ from them before they’d let Ashley marry him. “Your sister’s about to marry into wealth! As her sister, you should contribute.” Mom grabbed at my clothes, her hand reaching for my pocket. Her entitlement was almost comical. “Anyone with eyes can see that family’s just trying to scam you. Only idiots like you would actually fall for it and offer to pay them.” Mom raised her hand to slap me. “It’s a test! They’re testing our sincerity! Once she’s married, she’ll be living in luxury!” I shook my head, catching her wrist and shoving her hand away forcefully. “I’m not giving you a single penny. If she wants to marry him that badly, take out a loan.” Mom pointed a shaking finger at me, unleashing a torrent of abuse. “You ungrateful brat! You worthless snake! I regret the day you were born!” She started throwing a full-blown tantrum right there on the street, wailing and rolling around. Passersby started gathering, whispering among themselves. “Wow, that daughter’s heartless. Look how desperate her poor mother is.” Seeing she had an audience, Mom doubled down. She grabbed my legs and actually knelt, begging. I didn’t get angry. I laughed. Then I pulled out my phone and played the video clip of the doctor testifying about the abuse. The crowd, always eager for drama, immediately turned on Mom. “That old woman has no shame! I’ve seen it all today.” Someone actually spat near her, another threw some wilted vegetable scraps they were carrying. Realizing her act was busted, Mom scrambled up, brushing off the garbage. She started yelling obscenities at the onlookers. I couldn’t stand watching her shrewish display. “Stop embarrassing yourself. I’m out of here.” I walked away, leaving her shrieking curses behind me. All I wanted now was to make them pay for everything they’d done. 4 To marry the rich guy, Ashley actually mortgaged the house. Of course, Kevin’s family looked down on Mom and refused to let her move in with them anyway. So Mom ended up renting a cheap, run-down apartment. She really went all-in, hoping for that big payoff. Betting the farm to catch the golden goose. Heh. Her calculations were useless, though. Nobody seemed to realize that Kevin, Ashley’s fiancé, was a violent abuser, and his mother was obsessed with having grandsons. I’d found all this out as soon as Mom came asking for money. But warn Ashley? Hell no. I was perfectly happy to watch from the sidelines. Seeing them tear each other apart like rabid dogs was exactly what I wanted. In fact, Mom mortgaging the house? I might have subtly… nudged things along. Ashley’s pregnancy progressed. But Kevin’s family wouldn’t let her move in until they saw the cash. Mom liquidated every asset she could find. Still couldn’t scrape together the full amount. We were never well-off, and Mom clung to every penny. The house originally belonged to Dad. Mom fought for it and got it in the divorce. My few memories of Dad were of a kind man. He couldn’t stand Mom’s constant nitpicking and greed, so he left. He died in a car accident not long after. Mom was desperate for the money, afraid the growing baby bump would start gossip. Seeing her so frantic, I decided to ‘help’ her out. I happened to have a friend in real estate. With a little maneuvering, we arranged for the house title to be transferred… to me. Mom wouldn’t have any assets left to leverage in the future. And it wasn’t like Kevin’s family were decent people who’d ever give her money back. Looking at the deed in my hand. I could only imagine the fireworks when Ashley and Mom found out. 5 The day Mom moved into the cheap rental. The neighbors were already calling her and Ashley crazy. Mom screamed right back at them. “You’re just jealous! When Ashley marries him, I’ll be rolling in cash!” She had such a twisted way of thinking. Selling her daughter, practically, but framing it like some brilliant investment. Watching her puffed-up arrogance. I smirked. She had no idea the house was already mine. After the wedding, Ashley flooded her social media with posts. Showing off her ‘perfect’ life. March 15th Hubby bought me roses today! Loving him more every day <3 March 16th Baby kicked today! Hubby got me my favorite dessert! #blessed March 17th Mother-in-law made me delicious porridge this morning! ... Post after post designed to make everyone envious. The comment section was full of praise. I just scrolled past, smiling faintly. I focused on my job, worked hard, and eventually got a promotion and a raise. When Ashley showed up, heavily pregnant, to gloat, I found it genuinely funny. "Jessica, you'll never be on my level. I'm a rich man's wife now, and you're just a pathetic wage slave." Mom chimed in, putting on airs. "Jessica, learn from your sister! Find a rich man to take care of me, so I don't have to worry about supporting you later." Watching them perform their little duet. Like gorillas in a zoo exhibit. Hilarious. "Yeah, I guess I'm just not cut out for relying on a man. I can support myself just fine." I raised an eyebrow. My words hit Ashley like a slap. She'd dropped out of school years ago, obsessed with becoming an influencer. Not only did her 'career' fizzle out fast, but she lived off Mom's meager savings. Men weren't reliable. Abusive men definitely weren't reliable. All the manufactured happiness shattered after Ashley gave birth… to a daughter. The social media updates stopped abruptly. Clear proof that Ashley's life was anything but rosy. And that was exactly the outcome I'd been waiting for. 6 On Ashley's daughter Tiffany's birthday. Mom insisted I come over for dinner. I went, purely for the entertainment value. Mom was slaving away in the kitchen. Ashley was trying to soothe a wailing Tiffany. Kevin, meanwhile, sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone, looking thoroughly annoyed. "Can you shut that kid up? God, the crying is driving me crazy." Kevin snapped, his temper clearly short. The couple started arguing. "Why don't you try comforting her for once? Always glued to your phone. Probably texting other women behind my back." Maybe she hit a nerve, or maybe he just hated being contradicted. Kevin backhanded Ashley across the face. Hard. His mother, Ashley's mother-in-law, chimed in from the sidelines, dripping condescension. "Ashley, know your place. You married into our family, you need to learn some damn manners." I watched the whole disgusting scene unfold, detached. It confirmed everything: Kevin was abusive, his mom only cared about grandsons. I slipped into the kitchen, pretending to help Mom, just to get away from the 'main event'. "Mom," I whispered conspiratorially, "Looks like Kevin and Ashley are fighting out there. I think Ashley actually slapped Kevin." Mom heard her precious 'golden goose' might have been slapped? She lost it instantly. She slammed down her spatula and stormed out, grabbing Ashley.

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Jessica’s friend was getting married, but Ethan insisted on dragging me, six months pregnant, to the wedding. All because Jessica casually mentioned she wanted me to “see how a wedding works.” During the reception, the groom came around making toasts. When he got to our table, Jessica, the bride’s friend but clearly Ethan’s old flame, urged me to have a drink too. “Come on, sis-in-law,” she purred, even though we weren’t married, “everyone’s doing it, just for the atmosphere!” I politely refused again. Jessica bit her lip and dramatically downed a glass herself, supposedly “for me.” Ethan’s face instantly darkened. As the party was winding down, Ethan grabbed me, his voice tight with anger. “What’s your problem? Why are you so determined to embarrass me!” He gripped my chin, forced half a bottle of something strong down my throat, and shoved me out of the private room, snarling that I was ruining the mood. I threw up violently in the hallway, then stumbled outside and collapsed drunk on the sidewalk. When I came to, I was half-naked, freezing, and covered in blood below the waist. The baby was gone. And as far as I was concerned, so was Ethan… 1 My whole body ached. I was freezing and utterly drained. I blinked my eyes open, finding myself in a grimy alley. Cold wind whipped through, making me instinctively curl up. Then the horror hit me – I was barely clothed! A wave of disbelief and terror washed over me. I looked down, saw bruises mottling my skin, and then lower… blood. So much blood. My eyes flew wide with panic. I slapped a hand onto my stomach. Nothing. No movement. Just yesterday, he was kicking. Tears streamed down my face. Fighting through the pain and dizziness, I somehow managed to pull out my phone, using every last ounce of strength to dial 911 before passing out again. The next time I opened my eyes, I was on a gurney, being rushed through a hospital. Doctors and nurses hurried alongside me, their faces etched with pity. Seeing I was awake, a doctor leaned in close. “Ma’am, listen, this is critical. You need surgery right away. Is your family here? We need someone to sign the consent forms.” My lips were cracked and dry. It took me a moment to form words. “No one’s coming. I’ll sign.” The doctor’s expression shifted to one of understanding. He quickly instructed the others to prep for surgery. As the bright overhead lights of the OR flared on, a bitter, broken smile touched my lips. …Ethan, how could you do this to me?! All those years I’d devoted myself to him, taking care of his every need, even getting pregnant before marriage, all because he promised me the wedding of the century once he “made it.” And this is how it ends. All that love, all that devotion… completely wasted. The surgery went smoothly. When I woke up again, the doctor stood beside my bed, his face full of regret. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Peterson… about your baby…” I squeezed my eyes shut, a fresh wave of tears burning. My voice was a hoarse whisper. “I know.” The tears escaped, tracking down my temples. Even though I’d expected it, the grief was suffocating. A nearby nurse tried to offer comforting words, but nothing could touch the pain. This baby… it had meant everything to both of us. When Ethan first found out I was pregnant, he was overjoyed, doting on me constantly. But ever since Jessica came back into the picture a few months ago, everything changed. So much for true love being constant. He didn’t care that I was obviously pregnant. He was willing to force alcohol down my throat for Jessica. The doctors had called the police when they found me. Soon after I woke up properly, detectives arrived, showed me their badges, and got straight to the point. “Ms. Peterson, sorry to bother you. Can you remember where the incident happened last night, or where you woke up?” I closed my eyes, my head throbbing. Fragments of memory surfaced – the street name, the alley. I told them what I could recall. As they left, I overheard a younger officer speaking in the hallway. “Pregnant and out drinking! See? Asking for trouble. Now look what happened. I told you she was probably…” “Shut your mouth! How dare you talk about a victim like that? What have I taught you?!” An older officer cut him off sharply. Their footsteps faded down the corridor. A fresh wave of misery washed over me. I silently finished the young cop’s sentence in my head. Pregnant and out drinking, she deserved it. Yeah, maybe falling for a man like Ethan meant I did deserve this. Suddenly, my phone rang on the bedside table. It was Ethan. I answered, and his voice immediately hit me like a slap. “Chloe, where the hell are you?!” 2 “So I made you have a couple of sips, and now you’re throwing a tantrum and running away from home? Seriously? Running around town while pregnant! Do you even care about me, about this baby?!” Ethan launched into a tirade when I didn’t respond immediately. I felt bone-weary, utterly exhausted. I finally spoke, my voice raspy. “Ethan, so you do remember I’m pregnant. Then why did you force me to drink?” He clearly heard the hoarseness in my voice and paused, surprised. Before he could reply, Jessica’s voice piped up in the background, dripping with fake self-blame. “Oh, Chloe, I knew you left because of that! It’s all my fault. I just thought since you were further along, a little drink wouldn’t hurt, but I had no idea you’d…” “Jess, what are you talking about? It has nothing to do with you!” Ethan interrupted her impatiently, any flicker of concern for my weak voice instantly gone. “It’s all Chloe, just being dramatic! I’ve never seen a pregnant woman run off just because she had a little alcohol. She’s just spoiled and sensitive!” Listening to him, my heart felt like a dead weight in my chest. My eyes were empty. Ethan got back on the phone, his tone now harsh and demanding. “Chloe, I don’t care where you are. Get back here right now and apologize to Jessica. She’s just a sweet girl; how could you bully her like that!” Bully her? Sweet girl? I was actually six months younger than Jessica. I stayed silent, realizing it wasn’t about age. It was simply because he didn’t love me anymore. My silence seemed to infuriate Ethan further. This was probably the first time in years I hadn’t immediately folded or apologized, and it stoked his anger. “Chloe! Are you deaf?!” Ever since Jessica reappeared, I’d tried talking to him about his neglect, argued about her constant presence. Every time, he accused me of being petty, of imagining things, and then stormed out. And like clockwork, Jessica would post something on social media, clearly meant for me to see. “No, I’m not deaf.” A moment later, a notification popped up. A short video clip from Jessica. In it, she was wearing something skimpy, steam filling the bathroom, and through the haze, I instantly recognized Ethan’s silhouette under the shower. She retracted the video almost immediately, sending a voice message instead. “Oops, sorry Chloe! Sent that to the wrong person! You didn’t see anything, did you?” Her voice oozed false apology. It was such a blatant power play, asserting her claim. I felt nothing but cold emptiness. I held the phone close to my mouth and managed a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I saw it. Hope you two have fun.” She didn’t reply, but I knew she’d read it. The surgery and the emotional trauma had taken a huge toll. I’d barely managed a night of restless sleep when I was jolted awake by shouting outside my door the next morning. “Sir! You can’t go in there! The patient needs rest! Sir!” “I’m here to see my girlfriend, who the hell are you to stop me?! Which department are you from?” I opened my eyes just as Ethan shoved the nurse aside and stormed into the room. He froze for a second when he saw my pale face, then sneered. “Well, well. No wonder I couldn’t find you anywhere. Hiding out in here, huh?” 3 I frowned, wondering how he’d found me so quickly. Then it hit me – the hospital probably called the emergency contact number linked to the payment card I’d used last night. His number. Before either of us could say more, the click-clack of high heels echoed from the hallway. Jessica walked in, dressed to the nines, makeup perfect. She immediately started fussing over me with fake concern. “Chloe! Oh my god, what happened? Why are you in the hospital? Why didn’t you tell Ethan or me?” Before she could finish, Ethan pulled her protectively to his side. He looked me up and down. The blankets must have been too thick; he couldn’t see my now-flat stomach. He scoffed. “Jess, why are you wasting your sympathy on her? She’s faking it. That pale face? All an act to get my attention. There’s nothing wrong with her!” “Really, Ethan? But she looks…” Jessica feigned surprise, her face a mask of innocent concern. Seeing the contrast, Ethan seemed even more convinced of my supposed malice. He looked at me with utter contempt. “It can’t be alcohol poisoning. She used to hold her liquor just fine. She can’t fool me.” I closed my eyes, a bitter memory surfacing. Back when he was starting his business, I’d gone with him to countless dinners and networking events, drinking alongside him. I couldn’t really handle alcohol, but I forced myself whenever potential clients or investors tried to humiliate him by making him drink excessively. I’d always step in, taking drinks for him. I’d always sneak away to throw up afterward, hiding the countless nights of nausea and stomach pain because I didn’t want him to worry or be distracted. Five years wasted on the wrong person. I had well and truly learned my lesson. After this, there wouldn’t be a shred of feeling left for him. “You’re already in the hospital,” Ethan continued impatiently. “So, spit out whatever drama you’re trying to pull, and let’s go home. Stop embarrassing yourself here. Are you some college kid fresh out of graduation?” “Who is disturbing my patient?!” A stern voice cut through the tension from the doorway. I looked up; it was the head of the department. The nurse must have fetched him after Ethan barged in. Ethan and Jessica froze. Ethan let out a derisive laugh. “Wow, hired actors now? Going all out, aren’t we, Boss Lady Chloe?” “Actors?! Who are you people? Get out! Leave the patient alone! She just had a D&C procedure yesterday after a miscarriage! She’s weak and needs rest!” the doctor snapped, furious. The young nurse behind him nodded in agreement. “Like anyone believes that! Chloe, if you’re going to fake something, at least make it believable…” Ethan’s expression didn’t change, glancing dismissively at the doctor before turning back to me. He was still talking when I threw back the covers, revealing my flat stomach. My voice was ice. “Does this look believable enough for you, Ethan?” He stopped mid-sentence, mouth still hanging open, looking utterly ridiculous. A tremor ran through him. Panic finally flickered in his eyes. His voice cracked, disbelieving. “…Chloe, you… you got an abortion?!”

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My wife’s old flame shared a sonogram photo on his social media feed. He wrote: “Thank you, for helping me have a child of my own when I needed it most.” That’s when I found out. My wife had aborted our child, then underwent IVF to carry her old flame’s baby. I calmly liked his post and commented below: “Congratulations to you both.” Almost instantly, Sienna Miller’s call came through, her voice laced with annoyance: “I was just helping Ryan out, giving him something he needed. Don’t make this more complicated than it is!” I quietly hung up. I knew it was time to end our marriage. 1. I stared at the abortion clinic paperwork and sonogram dated a month ago, pulled from Sienna’s dresser drawer. Only then did I realize I had almost been a father. But now, just because Ryan Davis wanted a child, Sienna had ruthlessly aborted ours a month ago, only to turn around and get pregnant with Ryan’s baby. I looked at the pile of prenatal vitamins and baby gear stacked in the corner of the living room, a chill settling deep in my heart. Actually, I first saw a sonogram photo a week ago. It fell out of Sienna’s purse. Seeing it, I felt dizzy with joy. Sienna and I had been married for four years, and my biggest wish was to have a child, a symbol of our love. I waited all day, hoping Sienna would tell me she was pregnant. But even late into the night, she said nothing. I convinced myself she was waiting for the second trimester, planning to surprise me on our anniversary. But reality slapped me hard across the face. Not only did she have no intention of telling me, but she’d secretly terminated the pregnancy. Now, a month later, she was framing it as simply “lending her womb” to Ryan. Sienna never liked me touching her much, nor did she care for children. She claimed they were naturally mischievous, noisy, and hard to raise. But recently, I noticed her frequently researching pregnancy preparations. She even stayed up late making two checklists: one for a hospital go-bag for expectant mothers, the other for newborn essentials. My heart had soared then, but now I saw it clearly. All these preparations were for the child she was carrying – Ryan’s child. Sienna came home unusually early tonight. I checked the time; it was only 9 PM. She usually wasn’t back until late. She called my name once. I lay in the bedroom and didn’t answer. She didn’t push it. Soon, the sound of the shower started. After she finished, she slipped quietly into the bedroom without turning on the lights and lay down gently beside me. I felt a warmth around my waist – the first time she had ever initiated an embrace. She pressed against my chest, her voice soft, pleading, “Honey, there’s really nothing going on between him and me. I’m just doing him a favor so he can have a child. Ryan has always wanted a kid. I promise, once the baby is born, I’ll cut ties with him completely.” I didn’t say anything. I just gently removed her arm from around me and shifted away silently. Sensing my coldness, she immediately bristled, her voice rising. “I’ve already humbled myself asking you like this, what more do you want?” “Don’t forget, you were the one who said you didn’t care about my past, that you just wanted to be with me.” “Can you stop being so petty? I could have hidden this from you, but out of respect, I told you the truth. And this is how you react? You’re really letting me down.” I let out a cold snort. “How were you planning to hide it? Wait until you started showing and then tell me the baby was mine?” “Sienna, do I look like a total idiot to you?” “Ethan Cole, Ryan is my best friend in the whole world! I was just helping him out. Do you have to be so relentless about this?!” She vented her frustrations in a rush, finally throwing out, “You need to think long and hard about how I’ve been treating you lately. I know you want a child too. After this baby is born, I’ll have one with you.” “Forget it. I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.” With that, the door slammed shut. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly – laughing at the tragedy of my marriage, laughing at how blind I’d been. In her eyes, apologizing to me was a huge favor, one I was obligated to accept. Otherwise, I was the one being unreasonable. She could treat me this way because, ultimately, I had indulged her far too much. So, this was all my own damn fault. 2. I woke up early the next morning to find Sienna already gone. I knew exactly what was happening; she’d been coming and going at odd hours lately. Her assistant, Lisa, called my phone several times, asking where she was. Lisa told me Sienna hadn’t been to her studio recently. Putting two and two together, she could only be with Ryan. I ignored it and went to the hospital to pick up my physical exam results. The doctor said my ulcer needed serious attention, or I might end up needing surgery. Leaving the clinic with the report, I bumped right into Sienna and Ryan. She was leaning against him, looking utterly dependent, while Ryan held several report forms. Seeing me, Sienna’s face hardened. “Are you following me?” I didn’t bother responding to her, looking straight at Ryan instead. His eyes flickered away nervously as he tried to change the subject. He feigned annoyance, pinching Sienna’s cheek lightly. “How can you say that? Ethan isn’t that kind of person. He knows there’s nothing between us.” Ryan’s words sounded like he was trying to smooth things over, but he was actually putting the ball in my court. I forced a smile. “Yeah, why would I follow you two? Just a happy couple here for a prenatal checkup.” Sienna flared up at that, shoving me hard. “What the hell is that supposed to mean! I only see Ryan as a brother.” I hadn’t eaten breakfast, and my stomach was cramping painfully. I didn’t notice the chair behind me and stumbled, falling to the ground. Ryan immediately pretended to help me up, muttering reproaches at Sienna, but his eyes held a clear look of provocation. Disgusted, I pushed him away, trying to stand on my own. Incredibly, he used the momentum to bump into Sienna behind him. Sienna instantly clutched her stomach protectively, yelling at me, “Ethan Cole! If anything happens to this baby, I will never forgive you!” I stood frozen, watching my wife scream at me over a child she was carrying for another man. A wave of desolation washed over me. Never before had I felt so grateful that Sienna had chosen to abort our child. How could someone who didn’t even love her own husband possibly love their child? Back home, I habitually picked up my phone to scroll through my feed. Right away, I saw Ryan’s latest post: a profile shot of Sienna, tenderly stroking her belly. The caption read: “Mine.” In the comments, Sienna’s friends chimed in. Ashley Young teased, “That side profile doesn’t look like your wife!” Chloe Jones joked, “Oh, back together with the dream guy, huh?” Lily Frost was more direct: “Ooh~ Now I get it. So the baby mama was here all along. Congrats, congrats!” Then, Sienna herself commented to clarify: “Don’t joke around like that. I’m just helping out. If you guys keep this up, my husband might get the wrong idea.” Her friends immediately understood, replying with “Got it,” “Understood.” But Ashley was an exception. She shot back: “Afraid of what? Why keep a petty guy like that anyway? Better off divorced. You and Ryan have been through so much for years, everyone sees how you feel. Just follow your heart!” Ashley always had it out for me, thinking I wasn’t good enough for Sienna compared to Ryan. Not as handsome, not as educated, not as charming. Honestly, I’d put up with it for years for Sienna’s sake. But now, with our marriage at its end, I didn’t need to protect anyone’s feelings anymore. So, I replied directly under Ashley’s comment: “Yeah, we’re getting divorced soon. Thanks for worrying about Sienna all these years.” After posting that, I went to my own profile and selected two photos: One was the divorce agreement. The other was the record of Sienna’s abortion procedure. I added a simple caption: “Finally free.” 3. My post immediately garnered likes and comments. Sienna’s friends were silent. They tactfully chose to ignore it, but I knew they were probably congratulating Sienna on escaping her miserable marriage. Then my phone started ringing off the hook. My parents, Sienna’s parents – everyone was calling to ask what was going on. Sienna herself frantically dialed my number, but I didn’t pick up. I just sent a quick text to my parents: “Coming home tonight. We’ll talk then.” I quickly packed my bags. As I was heading out, Sienna drove up, just returning. Furious, she got out of the car and stormed towards me, demanding loudly: “Ethan Cole, how could you divorce me over such a small thing and plaster it all over the internet!” “Do you have any idea how my parents called me, asking what happened, why I aborted the baby! Have you ever respected me at all?!” Her barrage of accusations nauseated me, but arguing was pointless now. Ignoring her anger, I picked up my suitcase and walked down the steps towards the gate. She suddenly lunged forward, blocking my path. “Does it have to be this way?” she pleaded frantically. “I told you I’d cut ties with him after the baby’s born! I’ve already bent over backward for you, what more do you want?” Her selfish words echoed in my ears, pushing me past my limit. I swung my hand back and slapped her hard across the face. “Sienna, you ask if I’ve respected you? Have you ever respected me? You aborted our child to carry one for Ryan.” “I am your legal husband, the father of that child, yet I had no right to know. Did you respect me then?” “Don’t let me stand in the way of your true love. Ashley’s right, you should follow your heart.” “A petty man like me isn’t right for you. Go find someone who can tolerate everything about you.” “I’ve already emailed you the electronic version of the divorce papers. Remember to sign.” With that, I stepped around her, pushed open the gate, and walked away. She yelled desperately after me, “You’ll regret leaving!” How could I regret it? This whole ordeal had finally woken me up. Leaving her would only make my life better. Back at my parents’ house, they anxiously asked about the divorce the moment they saw me. My mom’s eyes were red; she had clearly been crying. I told them everything – about Sienna aborting our child and then carrying one for Ryan. My mom pulled me into a hug, her voice thick with sympathy. “I told you from the start she wasn’t reliable.” My dad, after a moment of silence, said firmly, “Divorcing her is the right thing to do.” Truthfully, my parents had always had reservations about Sienna, feeling she wasn’t genuine with me. But I hadn’t listened back then. I’d chased her for five or six years, and finally getting together felt like a victory. I thought time would prove everything. Turns out, I was wrong. The marriage finally ended. It took me nearly ten years to understand that forced happiness isn’t sweet. After waiting a long time, Sienna still wouldn’t sign the divorce papers. Only when I threatened legal action did she finally respond, saying she would meet me and make Ashley and the others apologize. Her text message radiated exhaustion: “I’ll come pick you up with Ryan tomorrow. I’ll make Ashley and the others apologize to you. Can you please stop making things difficult for me? It’s so hard. Both you and Ryan put me in such an awkward position.” “I apologize to you. You know I’m someone who keeps my promises. I promised Ryan I’d help him, I can’t just abort the baby now.” “He also told me that once the baby is born, he won’t bother us anymore. It’s just that during this time, he kept saying he wanted to accompany me to the prenatal checkups. After all, I am doing him a big favor.” “Actually, his wife was supposed to go with me, but she’s not around lately. So, Ethan, please try to understand.” 4. She always claimed she didn’t know who to choose between Ryan and me, but her actions repeatedly showed that Ryan was always her priority. On our wedding day, she ditched me to comfort Ryan, who was arguing with his wife. On our anniversary, she ignored me because Ryan was afraid of thunderstorms. On my birthday, she went to celebrate Ryan’s. During holidays, she bought two sets of gifts – one for me, one for Ryan. It seemed fair on the surface, but it was utterly ridiculous. I expressed my dissatisfaction many times. She always promised to change but inevitably repeated her mistakes, even accusing me of being too sensitive. Looking back, the happiest moment between us was the day I proposed. On Skyline View Point, high above the city, under a sky full of stars, I planned a proposal just for us. That moment, the way she looked at me was filled with love, her vows warm and sincere. But now, everything had changed. When Sienna didn’t get a reply from me, she called directly. “Ryan has already booked the restaurant. Everyone’s coming to apologize to you. Don’t be angry anymore.” I responded calmly, “Will Ryan be there too?” “Yes, he’ll be there.” “Okay, come pick me up tomorrow.” If the apology was only for me, what was the point? Sienna’s car pulled up downstairs. When the window rolled down, Ryan was in the driver’s seat. He gave me a slightly apologetic smile. “Ethan, sorry about this. Sienna’s pregnant, so she can’t drive. I drove instead.” I smiled back. “No problem, I understand.” Previously, this would have bothered me, but now, whatever Sienna and Ryan did, I wouldn’t easily get upset anymore. Truth be told, even if Sienna had been driving, the passenger seat wouldn’t have been mine. At the restaurant, Sienna’s friends were already seated, waiting for the three of us. Ashley came over, greeted me, and insisted I sit next to her. “Ethan, sit here. I need to properly apologize to you later.” Her tone sounded more like a warning than an apology. Once everyone was settled, Ashley poured me a glass of wine first, saying it was her penalty. She downed it in one gulp, then began her “apology.” “Ethan, I’m a straightforward person, don’t take it personally. I used to think you weren’t good enough for my best friend.” “But since Sienna is still willing to be with you, then today, for her sake, I’ll apologize.” She poured another glass, held it towards me, and said, “This one is a sincere apology. I misspoke that day. I’m sorry.” As soon as she finished, Sienna’s other friends quickly followed suit with their apologies. Sienna, seeing the atmosphere easing, quickly encouraged everyone to start eating, trying to lighten the mood. But suddenly, Ryan raised his glass of fruit wine, stood up, and addressed me: “Ethan, I also need to say sorry. Sienna cares too much about me, and it’s caused you a lot of grief.” Sienna immediately pulled Ryan back down into his seat. “It’s not your fault, you don’t need to apologize.” Then she turned to me, looking earnest. “I’m sorry. I failed to handle this relationship properly.” I chuckled. “It’s okay. Actually, there’s someone else who’d like to hear your apologies too.” Just as I finished speaking, the door swung open, and a woman in high heels walked in. Ryan instantly panicked.

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On my deathbed, my husband, who had supposedly been “dead for years,” strolled in with his young, beautiful mistress, just to gloat. “Sarah, thanks for paying off all my debts. Allowed me to live it up overseas all these years, you know?” My chest flared with pain. Kevin Davis coolly yanked out my oxygen tube. “Honey, legally, I’m still your husband. So, all your assets? I’ll gladly take them off your hands.” Kevin watched coldly as I took my last breath. I closed my eyes, filled with regret. When I opened them again, I was back on the day my husband faked his death. 1 “Mrs. Davis, please accept my condolences.” Dr. Miller’s voice was low, trying to comfort me. I stared blankly at the figure covered by a white sheet, my mind still foggy. I glanced up at the digital clock on the wall. Somehow, I was back fifteen years in the past! The day Kevin supposedly killed himself! In my past life, Kevin had racked up enormous gambling debts and borrowed heavily from loan sharks. To protect his reputation as a respected teacher, he left a suicide note and staged his death. But even after he “died,” the creditors didn’t stop chasing the debt. To preserve my husband’s lifelong reputation and shield our family from harassment, I took on his burden. I sold both our houses, worked three jobs a day, pinched every penny. After ten long, hard years, I finally paid off the millions he owed. But the toil destroyed my health. At only fifty, I collapsed. As I lay dying, Kevin reappeared. He’d been living comfortably abroad, dodging his debts. The first thing he did upon returning was pull my oxygen tube to inherit my estate! Now, I’m reborn. And I’m going to watch you, you deadbeat scumbag, go straight to hell! 2 My thoughts snapped back to the present. I gathered my emotions, let out a loud wail, and threw myself onto Kevin’s body. “Honey! Don’t leave me!” I sobbed, pounding on Kevin’s “corpse.” I used about ninety percent of my strength, hitting him with solid thuds. Since Kevin was faking death, he obviously couldn’t move. Dr. Miller couldn’t stand it anymore and pulled me up. “Mrs. Davis, please calm down. You can’t bring him back.” I looked at Dr. Miller’s pudgy face, a fire igniting inside me. Kevin couldn’t have faked his death without help. That accomplice had to be the attending physician who declared him dead. Last time, I was too overwhelmed with grief, letting this doctor wheel the supposed body into the morgue. My mother-in-law handled the arrangements; I never even saw Kevin cremated. I just numbly accepted he was gone. It seemed I was the only one they kept in the dark. Fine. This time, I’ll settle the score with both of you! 3 I gathered all my strength and slapped Dr. Miller hard across the face. He was stunned. I howled uncontrollably: “Why? My husband was such a good man! Why couldn’t you save him?!” Like a madwoman, I grabbed Dr. Miller’s collar and started punching and kicking him. In the chaos, I managed to land a few more solid hits on Kevin. “Mrs. Davis, Mrs. Davis, calm down! I understand how you feel, but we need to take Mr. Davis to the morgue now,” Dr. Miller stammered, rubbing his already swelling cheek. I fell silent, staring at Dr. Miller, and said coolly: “Okay. I’ll go with you.” Dr. Miller hadn’t expected this request and looked hesitant. “Mrs. Davis, according to regulations, unauthorized personnel are not allowed in the hospital morgue.” I changed tactics: “Fine, then I’ll stay here with him. Kevin always hated the cold. I can’t bear the thought of him lying in one of those cold drawers.” Dr. Miller looked troubled. My actions were clearly throwing a wrench in their plans. “Mrs. Davis, it’s hot weather now. If Mr. Davis isn’t taken to the morgue, the body will start to decompose quickly.” I replied firmly: “I don’t care.” Dr. Miller grew anxious. But no matter how he tried to persuade me, I refused to leave Kevin’s side. Sweat beaded on Dr. Miller’s forehead. My lack of cooperation was making things difficult for him. He quietly slipped out of the room and made a hushed phone call. I sat silently by the bedside. The thought of Kevin lying under that white sheet, enduring this minute by minute, almost made me laugh. Twenty minutes later, my mother-in-law, Brenda Davis, burst in like a storm. “You jinx! Are you trying to stop my son from resting in peace?” Brenda pointed a finger right at my nose and started yelling. I looked coldly at her fierce, unpleasant face. In my past life, Brenda conspired with Kevin to deceive me, happily living off my hard work. This time, I wouldn’t be so weak. 4 “A jinx? Dad died young; does that make you a jinx too?” My sharp retort left Brenda momentarily speechless. “I don’t care! You can’t stop my son from finding peace!” Brenda moved to push the gurney. I stood in front of it, staring coldly at her. “Oh, God help me! My son just died, and now my daughter-in-law is trying to drive this old woman to her grave!” Brenda plopped down on the floor, slapping her thighs and wailing accusations at me like a common thug. A crowd began to gather, but I remained calm. “This woman! She deliberately wants to keep my son from being buried properly! She wants him to be a wandering ghost, unable to move on!” Brenda got more dramatic, playing to the onlookers. She accused me of being lazy, mooching off them, and bullying her. The bystanders started giving me suspicious looks. I didn’t rush. Copying Brenda, I sat down on the floor and started wiping away tears. “Mom, oh Mom! I married into your family five years ago. I worked tirelessly, taking care of both of you. Look at your hands, so white and soft. Not like mine, dark and rough.” I cried while holding up Brenda’s hand. Facts speak louder than words. Brenda’s hands clearly hadn’t seen a day of hard work. She was plump, well-dressed, a large gold bracelet gleaming on her wrist. I, on the other hand, wore simple clothes and looked haggard. Hardly the image of a domineering, cruel daughter-in-law. Brenda was thrown off by my tactic. “You brat! What nonsense are you spouting?” Brenda pointed at me, yelling. I pretended to be terrified, covering my head and screaming: “Don’t hit me!” My sleeve slid down, revealing the crisscrossed scars on my arm. Seeing this, the crowd immediately turned on Brenda. “Looks more like you’ve been bullying your daughter-in-law, doesn’t it?” “Yeah, you look well-fed, unlike her. She’s so thin, clearly been through a lot.” “Are those bruises on her arm? Should we call the police?” The accusations and criticism rained down on Brenda. She was furious, yelling at the crowd: “Get lost! Mind your own business! This is family stuff!” Brenda stood with her hands on her hips, ready to argue with everyone. And now, it was time for my next move. 5 “Excuse me, are you Mrs. Davis?” Several people in uniforms entered the room. The room instantly fell silent. I wiped my tears and shook their hands. “Yes, I’m Sarah Davis, Kevin Davis’s wife.” “Who are they?” Brenda eyed the newcomers warily. “Oh, they’re from the organ donation center. They’re here to help Kevin fulfill his final wish,” I said casually. “What organ donation? What are you trying to do?” Brenda raised her voice, blocking the gurney. “You know, donating his corneas, heart, liver… to save other people in need!” I explained calmly. Brenda panicked. She stood protectively in front of Kevin, shouting her refusal: “His body is sacred! It came from his parents! I don’t agree!” “Mom, you can’t ignore Kevin’s wishes! He always wanted to contribute to society!” I said righteously. To prove my point, I pulled out the organ donor registration document Kevin had signed from my phone. Thanks to Kevin’s hypocritical nature, always trying to build a saintly image at work, he had actually signed up for organ donation years ago. Brenda’s face flushed red, but she still wouldn’t let anyone near Kevin. Beside her, Dr. Miller was sweating bullets. If Kevin’s fake death was exposed, he’d be the first one to go down. To make it even harder for them to back down, I had another card up my sleeve. 6 “Make way! Is the hero donating all his organs in this room?” A swarm of reporters pushed into the already crowded, small hospital room. “Who are you people?” Brenda was on the verge of tears. “Ma’am, hello, we’re reporters from the local TV station. We heard that a hero’s family wishes to donate their deceased relative’s organs, and we came to cover the story,” a reporter answered with a smile. Brenda was dumbfounded. As the grieving widow, it was naturally my place to take charge. “Everyone, my husband, Kevin Davis, was a middle school teacher. He dedicated his life to educating others and was a man of great integrity. It was my husband’s wish to donate his organs. As his wife, I certainly won’t disappoint him. I have decided to donate all of my husband Kevin’s organs!” My passionate speech earned a round of applause. Camera flashes went off nonstop. Hearing the news, Kevin’s school principal and other administrators also arrived. They wouldn’t miss an opportunity that brought positive attention to the school. The situation had reached its peak. 7 “No!” Brenda clung desperately to the gurney, refusing to let anyone touch her son. “Ma’am, your son contributing to society is a noble act!” People in the crowd tried to persuade Brenda. Seeing that he was about to be taken away for dissection, Kevin finally couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I don’t agree!” Kevin’s sudden resurrection startled many people. “What’s going on?!” The reporters, though experienced, were visibly shocked, but their cameras remained steady. “Kevin! You!” My eyes widened as I pointed at Kevin in feigned shock. Kevin looked furious, glaring daggers at me. “Why aren’t you dead?” Angry and desperate, I slapped Kevin across the face. “How dare you lie to me?” I screamed, seemingly devastated. Kevin awkwardly shielded his face, growling at the reporters: “Stop filming!” But how could reporters pass up such a bizarre story? The scene descended into chaos. A man declared dead suddenly comes back to life! It was undeniably huge news. “Kevin, you… how?” Even the school officials were too stunned to speak coherently. Kevin frowned, stammering nonsensically. As people grasped the situation, they turned on Kevin with angry shouts. “This guy faked his own death to scam his wife! What was he planning?” “His mother must have been in on it too! Poor wife, kept completely in the dark.” “I bet he was planning to run off with money! What a terrible thing to do to his wife!” Kevin wished the ground would swallow him whole. He wanted to run, but the thick crowd blocked any escape. I smiled faintly. Was it over already? Not quite. 8 “Well, well, what’s all the commotion here?” Several menacing men, arms covered in tattoos, pushed their way into the room. Seeing them, Kevin’s face instantly turned deathly pale. “Kevin, pal. You were supposed to pay the interest. What’re you doing in the hospital?” One of the large men clapped Kevin on the shoulder with a humorless grin. Kevin actually collapsed onto the gurney bed. “Who… who are you people?” I timidly stepped forward. The big guy, dangling a cigarette from his lips, said casually: “You must be Mrs. Davis, right? Your husband, Kevin, did some gambling on our turf. Long story short, he owes a bit of money. Borrowed quite a chunk from my associates too. Payment’s been overdue for a few days now.” Kevin hung his head, silent. I looked around at the gawking crowd and the filming reporters, then asked directly: “How much does my husband owe you?” The big man waved his hand dismissively: “Not much. Just over a million bucks.” “Whoa!”

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