Great Stories, Perfectly Sized.

He Got Married to Someone Else on My Wedding Day

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 14:20:09 +0800

I had already decided to dump my ambitious lawyer boyfriend, and he was completely clueless.

He promised wed get married the second he made partner at his firm.

For that promise, I hid my identity as the Sinclair family heiress and wasted nearly five years with him in a shitty apartment in Queens.

But on the day we were supposed to go to City Hall, as I stood there all dressed up, I watched Liam Donovan lean down and kiss a woman in a wedding dress.

I pulled out my phone and saw the Instagram he had just postedDa photo of him and his childhood friend, Brielle Vance, holding a marriage certificate.

The caption read: "It's official. Congrats to us, everyone!"

I typed "Congrats" in the comments, then called my parents for the first time in nearly five years.

"Mom, Dad, I'm done. Liam and I are over."

...

After the call, I went back to the apartment we shared.

I tossed my things into suitcases. As for the furniture and appliances I couldnt take, I smashed them to pieces.

I had bought most of Liams things.

He graduated from a second-rate law school, and his relentless drive was what initially attracted meDhe was determined to break into the elite circles on his own merit.

To avoid wounding his pathetic pride, I kept my Sinclair background a secret and moved into this rental in Queens five years ago.

I surveyed the wreckage, then called a moving company to haul all my things away.

Next, I contacted the property manager of my building in midtown Manhattan and told him to get in touch with the buyers who had previously made offers.

The building was in a prime location in the financial district. I had bought it at a premium, intending to give it to Liam as a gift to start his own law firm. The interior renovations were almost complete.

Liam didn't want to work with partners or for someone else forever.

To avoid pressuring him, I bought the building without his knowledge and paid for the renovations, planning to surprise him after he made partner.

I was even so afraid of embarrassing him that I told him I had "pulled some strings" to "rent" the space for him at an incredibly low price as a temporary office.

Now that it was all over, I didn't need to protect his fragile ego anymore.

I told the property manager to have the crew rip out all the interior work. Id pay them double.

And the high-end office equipment that hadn't been installed yet? Donate it all to charity.

I had just caught my breath and was about to leave when Liam came home.

He froze in the doorway, his hand on the knob.

"What the fuck happened here?"

I shrugged, my voice casual.

"I did it."

Liam's face darkened instantly, and he snapped, "Chloe, what is your fucking problem? And I've been texting you all day, why didn't you answer?"

It was always like this. It was his fault, but his words always dripped with righteous accusation.

"Answer what? Should I have congratulated you on your new baby?"

"Liam, let's just call these five years a very expensive lesson. You chose to marry someone else, so from now on, there's nothing between us. Good luck."

I tried to walk past him, but he chased after me and blocked the door.

"Chloe, can you just calm down for a second? I've explained this to you a million timesDBrielle is my best friend. Today was meant to be a surprise for you, a grand gesture, that's all."

"That Instagram post was a joke, and the marriage certificate was fake, just a prop. Chloe, do you have to overreact like this?"

I stared at him and couldn't help but laugh.

The temperature had dropped today. When Brielle shivered, he immediately took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, even wrapping the scarf I gave him around her neck.

I just watched, my heart aching. In five years, Liam had never once been that considerate to me.

I glanced at my watch and said, half-joking, "If that's the case, City Hall closes in half an hour. Let's go right now, how about it?"

A flicker of unease crossed Liam's eyes. He gently tugged at my sleeve, his voice low and coaxing.

"Chloe, getting registered at City Hall in New York is so lame. It's like waiting in line at the DMV, there's no feeling. Didn't you always want to go to Paris? Why don't we just fly there for our honeymoon? That would be romantic."

"As soon as I win one more big case, we'll have the money to go. By the way, doesn't your boss have that multi-million dollar case? You could put in a good word for me..."

No matter how well-mannered I was, at this moment, I saw him for what he was: a hopeless fucking idiot.

Just a moment ago, I was scrolling through TikTok in the living room when the algorithm served me Brielles new video.

It was filled with clips of Parisian streets.

The caption read: "Countdown to my honeymoon in Paris with my fianc ??"

To get that big case from me, Liam was dangling my dream city as bait.

His real plan was to earn that massive legal fee and take Brielle to Paris.

I let out a cold laugh, violently shaking his hand off and striding towards the door.

Liam yelled from behind me, "Chloe! I'm talking to you! I already promised to take you to Paris, what more do you want?"

I walked out the door, his voice still chasing me.

"If you walk out that door today, don't you dare expect me to come back for you!"

I smirked. All these years, he used my love for him to take and take, pushing me to give in again and again.

And I was stupid enough to think it was because he cared about me.

I stopped, turned around, and yelled with all my strength.

"Liam Donovan, we are completely and utterly done!"

Then, I walked away without looking back.

My phone buzzed. It was a notification that the deposit from the new buyer of the office building had arrived.

I looked at the long string of zeros added to my bank account and immediately hailed a cab to a top-tier spa on Fifth Avenue.

For five years, I had suppressed everything to fit his "started from the bottom" narrativeDmy identity, my spending habits, my contact with my family, everything.

But just as I stepped out of the spa, I got a frantic call from the property manager.

"Ms. Sinclair, can you come over right now? There's a woman here with a group of people causing a scene in your building, and she's live-streaming it!"

My heart sank. It had to be Brielle.

She was a local New York influencer with a decent following; live-streaming was her whole career.

After confirming it was her, I rushed over.

The property manager met me as I got out of the car in front of the building.

"Ms. Sinclair, thank God you're here!

The buyer brought their design team for measurements today, but they were blocked by that woman and her crew.

She was holding up her phone, live-streaming, and yelling that if anyone dared to touch anything in 'their law firm,'

she'd make sure they'd be ruined in New York's social scene.

The buyer got pissed and left on the spot, saying the property has a title dispute and demanding his deposit back!"

I frowned. "Didn't I tell you to handle it with the deed and my power of attorney?"

The manager looked helpless.

"Ms. Sinclair, I showed them a copy of the deed right away, but the woman didn't even look at it.

In front of thousands of viewers on her stream,

she accused me of forging documents and then ripped it to shreds!"

I stormed upstairs and pushed open the office door. It was empty except for a voice coming from the innermost room.

I pushed that door open and saw Brielle, sitting at a desk and live-streaming to her phone. Behind her, the door to a lounge was open, and a Herms bag was tossed carelessly on the sofa.

I frozeDthis wasn't the design plan I had originally approved.

As I got closer, my heart sank like a stone.

That wasnt an office lounge area. It had been converted into a luxury apartment suite.

The suite was twice the size of the original plan; they had knocked down a wall to an adjacent office to expand it. It was filled with professional live-streaming equipment and signs of being lived in everywhere.

The bed was from a custom Italian luxury brandDa model I had been eyeing for years but never brought myself to buy.

No wonder the renovation crew said the furnishings were over budget and needed more funding.

To keep my parents from worrying, most of the money I'd saved these past few years came from selling my old jewelry and bags. Buying the building and paying for the renovations had nearly wiped me out.

I had initially refused the budget increase, but Liam convinced me. He said that only with proper rest could he work better, earn more money, and give me a better life.

And I believed him.

It turns out, all of it was for Brielle.

I was shaking with rage. I grabbed the nearest thing on the desk and started smashing everything I could get my hands on.

Brielle suddenly appeared behind me, pointing her phone at my face.

"Chloe, have you no shame? You've been mooching off Liam for years, living here for free, and now that he wants to break up with you, you come to his office to throw a tantrum?"

I shoved the camera away and pointed at her.

"Get the hell out of my property right now, or I'm calling the cops."

Brielle covered her mouth in a fake laugh. "Your property? Chloe, yesterday you were living in a rundown apartment in Queens, and today you're claiming a midtown Manhattan skyscraper is yours?"

She let out a few dramatic wails, drawing the attention of the friends she had brought with her.

"Brielle, don't be scared, Liam is on his way!"

"Liam wouldn't be where he is today without Brielle supporting him from behind the scenes! Women like you just know how to take advantage!"

The group became more aggressive, starting to shove me.

I took a step back and yelled, "The property deed is a legally binding document! You're trespassing on my property and assaulting me, aren't you afraid of getting sued?"

Their shoves became harder.

I finally snapped. I lunged forward and slapped Brielle across the face. Her phone went flying, the screen shattering on the floor.

And at that exact moment, Liam pushed the door open.

It only took Brielle a second for tears to start streaming down her face as she clutched her cheek, sobbing quietly.

"Brielle!"

Liam shoved me aside and pulled Brielle into his arms, stroking her face tenderly.

"It's all red, it must hurt so much. Don't worry, I won't let the person who hurt you get away with it."

The concern in his eyes was real, and his words were deadly serious.

I saw clear as day how he felt about Brielle, and I heard the disgust he had for me in his voice.

Liam turned to me, a flicker of shock in his eyes.

I thought for a moment that seeing my disheveled hair, my torn collar, and the scratch marks on my neck and arms might soften him.

But the hesitation vanished in an instant, and his gaze turned to ice.

"Apologize to Brielle."

My heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand, the pain so intense I could barely breathe.

He hadn't asked a single question. He just declared me guilty.

I clamped my lips shut, staring daggers at him.

Brielle cried even more pitifully, pointing a finger at me. "Liam, she's the one who hit me! She also trashed your studio and smashed all the equipment you bought for me!"

"And she was waving around some fake property documents, saying this building is hers and that she's selling your law firm!"

Liam gently soothed her, a look of adoration on his face I had never seen before.

"Don't waste your time with a psycho. It breaks my heart to see you cry."

Brielle blushed instantly, burying her head in his chest and murmuring about how sweet he was in front of everyone.

The teasing from their friends made me dizzy, and I nearly lost my footing.

In five years together, I always thought Liam just wasn't the type to say sweet things. He told me he came from a humble background, worked his way through school, and didn't know how to charm girls, asking me to be patient with him.

Back then, I only saw his resilience and ambition and chose to understand.

But now I realized, it wasn't that he couldn't do it. He just wouldn't do it for me.

After calming Brielle down, Liam turned to me, his tone cold. "Chloe, are you okay? Your injuries don't look serious, but Brielle's face is swollen, so you should still apologize."

Brielle lifted her head from his chest, looking at me with a triumphant smirk.

I snorted.

"Liam, is this how you handle your cases? You don't even bother with the basic facts before delivering a verdict?"

Liam's face flushed with embarrassment.

"Chloe, are you not listening to me anymore? I already explained everything to you, so what are you doing causing a scene here?"

Seeing that I was no longer the obedient girl I used to be, he stepped closer and whispered in my ear.

"Chloe, this isn't the place to talk. Go home and wait for me, okay? I'll come back and explain everything."

He grabbed my wrist and tried to drag me out, but just then, his phone rang.

His face fell as he answered the call.

He grabbed me by the collar, his voice a low, furious hiss. "Someone just said this office was soldDwhat's going on? The firm is supposed to launch any day now, what am I supposed to do?"

Liam's eyes were bloodshot as he shook me back and forth.

"Chloe, you go contact that landlord right now. I don't care how you do it, you have to save this law firm!"

I pushed him away and gestured to the property manager outside the door.

The manager immediately stepped forward, holding out a tablet and several legal documents stamped with official seals to Liam.

"Mr. Donovan, these are the latest property records from the New York County Clerk's Office, along with the power of attorney signed by the Sinclair Family Trust."

I looked at him coldly. "I am the absolute owner of this building. Liam, now I'm asking you to take your people and get the hell off my property, or I will sue you for illegal commercial trespass."

Mom's April Fool Prank Killed Me

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 14:00:16 +0800

I was still at the office pulling an overtime shift when my mother called me, sounding like her world was ending.

Nia! Your father's having a massive heart attack! Get to the hospital right now!

My dad has had heart issues for years. Hearing that, I didn't think twice. I abandoned my work and raced toward the hospital.

In my panic, I lost control of the wheel and slammed into a guardrail. I blacked out instantly.

When I finally regained consciousness, my mother was sitting by my hospital bed. She was casually munching on a bag of potato chips.

"Mom, how's Dad? Is he okay?!" I croaked, my head throbbing.

To my shock, she actually burst out laughing. She looked at me with total amusement.

"Oh, honey, it's April Fool's Day! I was just pulling your leg. I can't believe you actually fell for it!"

"Your father is perfectly fine. He's out at the bar with his buddies right now."

"But you? You have zero sense of humor. You can't even drive a car right. I had to leave my poker game early just because you ended up in the ER..."

She gave me a disgusted look and reached out, smacking me hard right on my bandaged head.

"It's not even that big of a deal! I'm going back to my game. Don't bother me unless it's an actual emergency!"

The impact on my fresh concussion made the room spin. I leaned over and vomited until I was dry-heaving.

I stayed in that hospital bed for days. Not a single soul from my family came to visit me.

My mother even posted a photo of my bloodied, battered face on Facebook. She mocked me for being "too sensitive" to take a joke.

Before I could even be discharged, another bombshell dropped.

"Mom! You need to come to the clinic for a follow-up immediately! Your physical results show you've contracted..."

"Contracted what? Don't you dare try to pull that April Fool's crap on me! Stop trying to curse me just because you're bitter!"

I stared at the medical report in my hand and suddenly started laughing.

"Mom, April Fool's was days ago. Today is a day for the dead."

I hung up before she could respond.

After all, she was the one who tested positive for the virus, not me.

This time, I wasn't the one who needed to hurry.

Just as I clicked off the phone, Dr. Miller stood beside me, his brow furrowed in concern.

What did Mrs. Vance say? When can she come in for the confirmatory testing?

The initial screening is positive, and her charts show clear symptoms of the acute stage. Its almost certain she has the virus.

If she doesn't start treatment now, shes a danger to herself and everyone around her.

Dr. Miller tried calling her again, but she had already blocked the hospitals number.

I knew exactly what she was doing. She was at the casino or a poker table, convinced I was just playing a prank on her.

This condition isn't a death sentence anymore, but she needs to cooperate. She could live for years with the right meds.

The doctor sighed, looking at me with pity.

Its tough having a mother like that. You nearly died in that crash, and when she got here, she asked if we could just patch you up and send you home to save money.

Now shes ignoring her own life-threatening diagnosis. We can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved!

Over the past few days, I had become the main topic of gossip among the nurses.

Everyone knew about the crash. The paramedics said I was covered in blood and drifting in and out of consciousness, screaming about my dads heart.

The ER doctors actually thought my father was the one in surgery at first because of how much Id rambled about him.

When it came time to sign the consent forms, my mother showed up looking annoyed.

She didn't spend a dime of her own. She dug through my blood-stained purse to find my credit card to pay for the deductible.

When I woke up, she didn't ask how I felt. She just ridiculed me.

She took a photo of me wrapped in bandages and posted it for all our relatives to see.

Some people just can't take a joke! Look at this idiot who wrecked her car over a little prank! [Laughing Emoji]

My aunts and cousins chimed in, calling me a buzzkill. They said I looked like a hideous mummy.

Some of them even turned my pain into memes and sent them to me privately.

Then there was my father.

He kept calling me, not to check on my health, but to complain that my hospital stay was cutting into my work hours and his allowance.

Everyone thought I deserved the crash because I couldn't handle a simple April Fools joke.

But in that moment on the highway, I wasn't thinking about the date. I was thinking about my fathers life.

I was terrified Id never get to say goodbye.

Looking back at how much I cared, I felt like the worlds biggest fool.

Dr. Miller was still trying to reach her. I shook my head and spoke calmly.

My wounds aren't healed yet, so I can't drag her here myself.

Just mail the official report to the house. Once she sees the hospital seal, shell have to face it.

I said that, but in my heart, I stopped caring about her survival.

I didn't judge people with the virus, but my mothers situation wasn't an accident.

She and my father had been sleeping in separate rooms for years because they loathed each other.

My mother was never lonely, though. She was constantly bringing home different men she met at the poker halls.

They were always shady, transient types. She never used protection, and she never cared about the risks.

I had tried to warn her about her lifestyle before, but she just told me to shut up and stop ruining her fun.

Fine. She was a grown woman. She could live with the consequences of her own choices.

I thought shed come to the hospital quietly once she saw the papers.

I was wrong. She was crazier than I imagined.

The next morning, a familiar screech echoed through the ward before the nurse could even check my vitals.

Nia Vance! Get your pathetic ass out here and look at what youve done!

I jumped, my heart hammering against my ribs. Before I could sit up, my mother stormed in and slapped me across the faceDtwice.

The nurse froze in shock. Patients and staff from the entire floor started crowding around the door to watch the drama.

My mother threw the medical report at my chest, her face purple with rage.

You little brat! How dare you forge a medical report to humiliate me! This is the most disgusting prank yet!

Positive for antibodies? You even made it look professional. Did you think you could actually scare me with this?

She sneered and turned to the growing crowd of onlookers.

Listen up, everyone! My daughter, Nia, has been sleeping around behind our backs. Shes the one whos sick!

She tried to swap her test results with mine to cover her tracks! Isn't that just the lowest thing youve ever heard?!

The only people who knew the truth were me and Dr. Miller.

But Dr. Miller was off-duty today. There was no one to verify the truth.

The crowd immediately shifted. People started looking at me with pure disgust.

Wait, isn't that the girl who was in the car wreck? I heard she was a mess.

No wonder her mom treats her like garbage. If I had a daughter that shameful, I wouldn't claim her either!

It wasn't just strangers. Some of my coworkers from the accounting firm were visiting someone else and joined the crowd.

They saw my mothers righteous anger and whipped out their phones to record me.

Expose her! Nia Vance from Accounting is a total predator!

Shes carrying the virus and trying to frame her own mother! Stay away from her desk!

We need to audit the books. Who knows what kind of filth shes touched with her hands!

They uploaded the videos to the company Slack and social media. My phone began vibrating non-stop with angry messages from my boss.

The crowd was getting louder. I rubbed my temples, trying to stay calm.

But my mother wasn't done. She started squeezing out fake tears, playing the part of the grieving parent.

I raised her with everything I had, and this is how she repays me? Doing such filthy things in secret...

Its a terrible disease, but Ill spend every penny I have to keep her alive, even if she hates me...

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, a glint of triumph shining through her fake sobbing.

She was playing the martyr to ensure I was completely destroyed.

The onlookers were touched. Don't blame yourself, ma'am! Its not your fault!

Exactly! Nia brought this on herself. She doesn't deserve a dime of your money!

Even the nurse who had been kind to me all week was now looking at me with a mix of fear and judgment.

I took a deep breath and looked my mother dead in the eye.

Whether Im sick or not isn't up to you. And its not up to me.

Lets call Dr. Miller, the head of the department. Hell tell everyone the truth.

The mention of Dr. Miller made the crowd quiet down. He was a renowned expert and the next candidate for Chief of Staff.

The tide of the crowd began to turn. They were hesitant to pick a side if a major doctor was involved.

Lets hear what the expert says. I don't want to get sued for defamation.

Yeah, stay sharp, guys. Don't let her mom use us as a mob if it's not true.

My mother crossed her arms and smirked. She clearly thought I was bluffing.

She still believed the report was just a clever April Fools prank Id made on a laptop.

I dialed Dr. Millers number while everyone watched in anticipation.

I thought this would end the nightmare.

But the phone just kept ringing. No one picked up.

When the automated voice told me the call couldn't be completed, my mother started clapping loudly. She spat on the floor near my bed.

Still trying to buy time with your imaginary friends? You don't know a big-shot like Dr. Miller. You were just faking that call!

I was breaking into a cold sweat. I tried to redial, but she lunged forward.

She knocked the phone out of my hand, sending it skittering across the floor.

Dr. Miller is a busy man. He doesn't have time for a lying little tramp like you!

Nia, Ill give you one chance. Get on your knees right now and apologize. Beg for my forgiveness.

If you don't, Im going to your office and showing every single person there what a degenerate you are!

I snatched the medical report off the bed and flashed a cold, sharp smile.

You say Im a degenerate? Wheres your proof?

This paper has your name on it, Martha Vance. It has the hospitals official seal.

Mom, lying is easy, but facts are hard. Tell us, what exactly did I do that was so filthy?

The crowd, which had been ready to tear me apart, looked at the document. Seeing her name and the official seal made them whisper again.

Wait, the paper really does say Martha. Is the old lady the one lying?

I bet shes the one whos been getting wild...

Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, a roar came from the hallway.

You want proof?! Ill give you proof!

My father shoved his way through the crowd. He was holding a clear plastic bag like it was a trophy.

I found all of this in my daughters bedroom! Right under her bed!

She lives under our roof and brings home absolute trash to sleep with!

When I saw what was in the bag, my head spun.

The crowd gasped. Used lace lingerie and open condom wrappers... Oh my god. She did that while living with her parents?

Theres no doubt now! Nia must have forged that report to blame her mother for her own mess!

I looked at my fathers smug, greedy face. I knew exactly why he was doing this.

Ever since his crypto investments tanked a few years ago, he had become a degenerate sports gambler.

He had begged me for money dozens of times. When I refused, he made my life hell.

He had keyed my car and even shown up at my office to scream at me for being an ungrateful bitch.

Now, he had gathered some random trash to frame me.

My mother, despite hating him, instantly teamed up with him for the kill.

Im so ashamed! I can't even look at you, Nia!

The people around my bed scrambled backward like I was a leper.

I was standing right next to her! Do you think I caught it?

Man, I need to get tested. I just came here for a checkup and now Im exposed to this filth!

Someone threw a banana peel at me. Then a half-eaten lunch box.

The greasy food stained my thin hospital gown, and the smell of old meat clung to my skin.

I took several deep breaths, forcing the air into my lungs.

Since none of you believe me, lets go to the lab right now. Well do a blood draw on the spot.

The truth will show up in the blood. Lets see whos actually sick.

The crowd, which was about to leave, turned back around.

My mother shrugged, looking completely unbothered.

Fine by me. Ive got nothing to hide. Why would I be afraid of a little needle?

Nia, you better get ready to cry. Everyone is going to see the monster you are!

I walked to the lab with a frozen expression. I paid for the expedited testing.

In less than thirty minutes, the results were printed.

The crowd surged forward. When they saw the paper, there was a collective gasp.

My heart stopped. I stared at the results in disbelief.

My mother grabbed the paper with a triumphant yell and read it out loud for the cameras.

Martha Vance: Negative.

Nia Vance: Positive!

Ungrateful Son Forgets My Birthday

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 13:35:44 +0800

My daughter-in-law and I share the exact same birthday.

For her, my son bought an eighty-thousand-dollar luxury handbag.

For me, he handed me a single sheet of A4 paper with a generic letter printed on it.

As I held that cheap piece of paper, my phone buzzed with a notification from Quinn, a student I had been sponsoring for years.

"Auntie, I am so sorry I could not make it back in time for your birthday celebration," the message read.

"I have sent a small token of my appreciation. I will make it up to you properly when I return."

Below the text was a bank transfer for fifty thousand dollars.

I looked at my son, whose eyes were fixed entirely on his wife, and felt a cold smile spread across my face.

A son who forgets his own mother the moment he gets a wife is a son I no longer need.

On the day of my birthday, my son Justin and his wife Melanie brought their three children over. I had spent the entire morning preparing a massive feast.

As soon as the kids walked in, they started sprinting around the house. My husband, Victor, had to run after them to keep them from breaking anything.

"Oh, careful, my little angels!" Victor called out, breathless.

I turned to Melanie and asked her to help me with the final touches in the kitchen. She didn't even look at me as she walked toward the sofa.

"Mom, I really can't get my hands dirty," she said, admiring her manicure. "I just applied a three-hundred-dollar hand cream. It's not meant for kitchen work."

Justin immediately jumped in to defend her.

"Exactly, Mom. We don't know how to do any of that stuff anyway," he said dismissively. "You've always done it yourself, haven't you? Just hurry it up. We're starving."

He led Melanie to the couch and sat her down like she was royalty.

Then, Melanie shouted toward the kitchen.

"Mom, I really want some honey-glazed ribs and grilled lobster tails! I don't see them on the table. Can you add those two dishes?"

I looked at the spread I had already made: garlic butter shrimp, spicy chicken, mushroom soup ten gourmet dishes in total. And yet, she wasn't satisfied.

"There are already ten dishes here," I said, my voice tight. "You really want more?"

Melanie pouted and leaned into Justin's chest, whispering something to him.

Justin immediately grew impatient. "Mom, it's Melanie's birthday. The birthday girl gets whatever she wants. Can't you just show her some respect and cook two more things?"

The knife in my hand hit the cutting board with a loud thud.

"You know it's Melanie's birthday," I said, turning to face him.

"But do you even remember that today is my birthday, too?"

It was true. My daughter-in-law and I shared the same day.

I was supposed to be celebrated today as well.

But from the moment they walked in, they had treated me like a hired maid.

I felt my heart turn cold. I threw the knife down and ripped off my apron.

I was done.

Justin finally seemed to realize he had messed up. He walked over, trying to smooth things over.

"Mom, come on. I only said that because your cooking is the best," he said with a fake smile. "Of course I know it's your birthday. Look!"

He pulled a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to me.

"This is a gift I prepared specially for you. Read it carefully."

I was surprised for a split second. I unfolded the paper.

The title read: "A Letter of Gratitude to My Dear Mother."

The content was pathetic.

It was clearly a generic template copied and pasted from the internet. The font sizes were inconsistent, the formatting was a mess, and even the date at the bottom was wrong.

This was his idea of "specially prepared."

Melanie piped up from the couch in a sugary, mocking tone. "Honey, you gave Mom a gift, but what about me?"

"Oh, baby, you know I'd never forget you!" Justin replied.

He reached behind the sofa and pulled out a signature orange luxury gift box.

Melanie's eyes doubled in size.

"Oh my god! Is that a Hermes Constance? This bag costs like eighty thousand dollars!"

"Anything for my beautiful wife!" Justin beamed.

They started hugging and kissing, lost in their own little world.

I clutched that piece of A4 paper, and my heart sank into my stomach.

A printed letter that cost five cents.

An eighty-thousand-dollar luxury bag.

The gap between those two gifts was a canyon I couldn't cross.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a message on WhatsApp from Quinn, the student I had supported for the last ten years.

"Auntie, Happy Birthday! I'm away on business and can't visit today, but I'll take you and Uncle Victor out to celebrate the moment I'm back. My office has moved to the West Side, so we're neighbors now. I'll be coming by much more often."

"I've sent a small gift to the front desk of your building. It's something to help with your health. Please remember to pick it up."

Below the message was a transfer notification. Fifty thousand dollars. The memo read: "For your health and happiness."

Victor came back upstairs carrying seven large gift bags.

Inside was a treasure trove: premium bird's nest, wild ginseng, authentic deer antler, sugar-free herbal powders, high-quality sea cucumbers, and a high-tech smart massage chair.

At the bottom of the pile, there was a handwritten letter explaining how to use every single item.

Auntie, you work so hard. The bird's nest is gentle and nourishing; a small bowl every day is perfect for you.

Uncle Victor, you need to watch your energy levels as you get older. Use a bit of this ginseng when you make soup.

The deer antler is for Uncles back and joints, but don't overdo it. Just two slices a week. I checked with a doctor.

Auntie, I know youve been having trouble sleeping. Drink the herbal powder daily; it helps with digestion and rest.

I held the two letters in my handsDthe printed trash from my son and the heartfelt note from Quinn.

My heart ached with a mixture of gratitude and pure bitterness.

I had raised a son for thirty years, and he couldn't even compare to a stranger.

Justin and Melanie wandered over to the pile of gifts.

Dad, Mom, where did all this stuff come from? You guys must be loaded lately, Justin remarked.

Melanie didn't even ask whose they were. She started ripping open the packaging immediately.

Honey, these are top-tier supplements! We should take some of these home with us.

Good idea, Justin added. Mom, Dad, you two cant possibly use all of this. Well leave you a little bit and take the rest, okay?

They were always doing this. Always taking whatever they could find.

Usually, I let it slide for the sake of the grandkids.

But today, I reached my breaking point.

These were a gift from Quinn. They aren't yours, I said firmly.

Melanies face soured instantly. She nudged Justin with her elbow.

Justin looked annoyed. Mom, what is that supposed to mean? Everything in this house eventually belongs to the kids anyway. Im your only son. Who else are you going to give it to? Besides, Melanie hasn't been feeling well lately. She needs these more than you do.

Your eyes are so full of your wife that you can't even see your own mother, I snapped.

Melanie looked down, pretending to be hurt.

Mom, why are you being like this? Justin shouted. How can you say I don't care about you?

Have you even asked me how Ive been feeling once today?

You and Dad are as healthy as horses! I live with Melanie every day, I know when shes struggling. Shes had a cold and feels weak. She needs the nutrients.

Our argument grew louder, and the three children started crying from the noise.

Melanie picked up one of the kids and started coddling them.

Victor stepped in, trying to play peacemaker. He sighed and shook his head at me.

Forget it, Evelyn. Just let them take it. Its just some supplements. If you want more, Ill buy them for you.

Justin looked at the crying kids and glared at me.

See, Mom? Dad is actually reasonable. You guys can afford this stuff. Youre scaring the kids over a few boxes of herbs. Unbelievable.

My heart felt like it was encased in ice. I turned around and went back into the kitchen to serve the food.

At the dinner table, Melanie kept flashing her Hermes bag. She couldn't stop smiling.

Honey, youre the best, she cooed. Ive wanted this model for so long. Its way better than the one my friend has!

Justin leaned into her, nodding like a devoted servant. He didn't look at me or Victor once.

Only the best for my wife. If you want it, Ill get it for you. Always.

The three kids were hungry and started acting up in their high chairs.

Justin and Melanie were too busy being lovey-dovey to notice.

Victor and I had to patiently feed the grandchildren, meaning our own food was getting stone cold.

Even then, the couple kept complaining that the dishes were too salty or not spicy enough.

I remained silent.

Seeing that I wasn't engaging, Justin turned his attention to Victor.

Dad, I signed the kids up for those elite preschool classes last week. Im short about fifty thousand. Can you cover it? Ill pay you back when I have the cash.

Victor dropped his fork, looking shocked. Didn't I just transfer you a hundred thousand dollars two days ago?

Melanie chimed in, Oh, Dad, everything is so expensive now. Those classes are a fortune. With three kids, a hundred thousand barely scratches the surface. We wouldn't even ask if it wasn't for the childrens future.

Justin added, Besides, you two are rich. A hundred thousand is nothing to you!

Nothing to us? You think money grows on trees?

I couldn't stay quiet any longer. I looked pointedly at Melanies new bag.

You don't have money for the kids' school, but you have eighty thousand dollars for a purse?

Melanies eyes welled up with tears instantly. She looked like she had been slapped.

Justin, your mom thinks you wasted money on me. Maybe I should just return it. I don't want it anymore if its going to cause problems.

Seeing his precious wife cry made Justin explode.

Mom! What the hell is your problem? Its Melanies birthday. She gave me three beautiful children. Shes the hero of this family! Why shouldn't she have a nice bag?

I laughed coldly. We give you a hundred thousand dollars every single month and its never enough. Youre always coming back for more. Do you remember what you said when you married her?

Justin looked guilty. What what are you talking about?

You said that once you married Melanie, you would never take a single dime from us! You said youd support her yourself and we could all live our separate lives!

My words hit his pride like a physical blow.

Justins face turned bright red, all the way to his ears.

Melanie started sobbing. Mom, why are you bringing up the past? You clearly still hate me. I should just leave!

She grabbed her Hermes bag and stood up.

Justin pulled her back and turned to us, screaming.

Mom, youve gone too far! Were family! Melanie is giving you the joy of being grandparents. Raising kids is expensive. Isn't it your job as grandparents to help out?

I was speechless.

Giving us the joy of being grandparents?

Did she have these children for me?

Fine, Im a loser! I don't make enough money so I have to borrow from you! But its not like Im not going to pay it back! Im doing this for the kids. Once my investments take off, Ill return every cent!

Always the kids. He used them as a shield for every selfish request.

Melanie stopped crying and peeked at my reaction, her eyes calculating.

I pointed out the obvious. Neither you nor Melanie have jobs. How exactly are you going to pay us back?

That was the final straw for him.

Mom, why are you so obsessed with the money?

Youre just pissed that Im spending your precious savings!

Fine! Ill go find a job tomorrow. Ill deliver pizzas or work construction if I have to. Ill work day and night to pay you back. Are you happy now?

He slammed his utensils onto the table and roughly grabbed the kids.

Come on, Melanie. Since they don't want us here, lets go!

The kids hadn't even finished eating. Being jerked around scared them, and they burst into loud wails.

Victor couldn't stand seeing the kids suffer. He sighed and gave in.

Justin, sit down!

Ill transfer you another two hundred thousand. Will that be enough?

Take the money and pay for the classes. Just stop wasting it on yourselves!

Melanie immediately stopped pouting. Oh, Dad, we barely have enough for the kids. We don't have anything left to waste.

I looked at her designer outfit. Every piece she was wearing cost thousands.

Neither of them worked. It was obvious where that money came from.

Victor made the transfer right there. Justins face finally relaxed.

Stop fighting with your mother, Victor warned. Youre over thirty. Its time to grow up.

Don't blame me, Dad. Its Mom whos being unreasonable. Shes starting drama over a bag!

Its like she wants to destroy this family. I don't even know what to say to her anymore.

He sat back down and started eating, making sure to bang his plate loudly.

He was acting like a giant, spoiled toddler, waiting for me to apologize and coddle him.

I was so angry my fingers were shaking. I didn't say another word.

Melanie sat behind him, eating heartily as if nothing had happened. She was a total ghost in the conflict she created.

As the kids cried and my husband and I scrambled to comfort them, I felt a heavy realization settle in my chest.

That night, after they finally left, I lay in bed unable to sleep. Tears stung my eyes.

A few years ago, when Justin said he wanted to marry Melanie, I was against it.

They had only known each other for two months.

Melanie was beautiful, but every move she made felt like a calculation.

She didn't care about Justins career or his interests. She only asked about our house, our savings, and Victors retirement fund.

Victor and I knew she didn't love him. She just wanted a golden ticket.

We had owned a few small factories when we were younger.

We weren't billionaires, but we made a couple of million a year.

We wanted Justin to take over the business, but he was lazy and had no interest in work.

Even though we were at retirement age, we had to keep working to keep the income flowing for him.

When we told him Melanie was a gold-digger, he lost his mind.

I love her! I don't care what you think! Im marrying her!

He threatened to jump off a bridge or a building if we didn't agree.

He had pointed a finger at us and screamed that hed never need our help.

Victor had been so angry he nearly had a stroke. I had held him, sobbing.

But we were weak. We were parents. We gave in.

We spent our life savings on his wedding and his life.

We gave her a three-hundred-thousand-dollar dowry. Her family gave nothing.

The wedding cost half a million. We bought them a two-million-dollar starter home.

We did everything hoping they would just settle down.

But soon, Melanie decided the house was too small. She sent Justin to beg for a bigger one.

Justin threw tantrums until we folded and spent another two million to upgrade them.

Then it was the cars. Another three hundred thousand.

Then the kids came, and the bleeding never stopped.

Diapers, formula, luxury strollers, Melanies designer clothesDwe paid for it all.

Mom, the baby is out of milk. Send two thousand.

Mom, Melanie needs a post-pregnancy spa retreat. Send five thousand.

Mom, this mommy-and-me class is thirty thousand. Cover it.

It added up to hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Eventually, we agreed to give them a flat hundred thousand a month just to keep them from calling every day.

But it was never enough.

Justin would even go through our drawers when he visited, taking cash or jewelry when he thought we weren't looking.

We looked the other way for the sake of the grandchildren.

Yet, he was incredibly stingy with us.

Once, when my phone died, he paid ninety-two dollars for my groceries. He hounded me until I gave him five hundred back.

He never paid back a single loan.

When Victor was hospitalized last year, Justin and Melanie were on vacation.

He didn't even call. He didn't offer a dime for the medical bills.

When he got back, I saw Melanie had the newest iPhone. It cost fifteen hundred dollars.

My son had replaced us in his heart a long time ago.

Victor saw me crying and wiped my tears away.

Evelyn, don't think about it. Just sleep.

But today was the last straw. I looked at Victor, my mind made up.

Victor, I whispered. What do you think of Quinn?

Husband Handed My Work to Lover

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 13:23:00 +0800

Chapter 1

Sean left his laptop behind when he moved back to the city.

The company intranet was still logged into his account.

His wedding photo with Joy Jennings was plastered right on the front page.

I squeezed my thumb until the skin turned white, my heart hammered against my ribs when my phone suddenly rang.

Sean's voice sounded tense through the speaker.

"Sylvie? Are you busy in the fields?"

I let out a soft "Mhm."

He continued, his tone sounding forced.

"The company servers crashed. Some kind of virus, I heard. You didn't click on anything, did you?"

My fingernails dug deeper into my palm, but I couldn't feel the pain.

I thought he was calling to explain the photo.

Instead, he was just making sure his lie was still safe.

I closed my eyes and whispered.

"I don't even have access to the intranet, Sean. How could I see anything?"

Sean's voice instantly brightened.

"That's good. I heard this virus is nasty, it steals corporate secrets."

"By the way, the audit is next month. Get the Clearwater Valley branch files ready. I'll send someone to pick them up."

I froze, staring at the screen where he was smiling at Joy.

"You said you'd give me a position at headquarters this month, Sean."

There was a long silence on the other end.

He sighed, sounding like he was the one being victimized.

"Sylvie, I want to, but I'm still settling in. I don't have much say yet."

"I promise, once I'm stable here, I'll bring you over to work right by my side."

He said he was busy and hung up quickly.

I stared at his new title in the announcement.

"Regional General Manager, Sean Sterling."

A man in charge of every regional branch couldn't find a single opening for his own wife?

My phone buzzed again with a voice note from him.

"I forgot to mention, for the audit files, list Joy Jennings as the project lead."

My ears started ringing. I frantically typed a reply.

"Why? I've handled every single detail of the Clearwater project for three years. I've done more work than you have. Why Joy?"

Before I could hit send, two more voice notes popped up.

"You don't have an official contract yet, Sylvie. Your name isn't in the HQ system, and it looks bad for the branch."

"Joy has the right credentials on paper. Listing her makes the audit go smoother. Don't be petty about it."

I played those notes over and over.

The words I wanted to say stayed stuck in my throat.

He knew I didn't have a job title because he never gave me one.

He wasn't trying to fix my status; he was busy handing my life's work to Joy.

Three years ago, when we first moved to this wasteland, I scouted every acre of soil.

I wrote the entire proposal for the Organic Blue Potato project after months of research.

But when it was submitted, the lead name was his childhood sweetheart, Joy.

He told me back then that I wasn't in the system yet.

He claimed a regular employee could only submit three projects, and he'd used his quota.

Joy was a temp in the logistics department back then, so using her name was "logical."

I had no choice but to believe him.

Every contract with the farmers and every technical breakthrough happened because of me, but her name stayed on the paperwork.

Sean said since she submitted the proposal, she had to stay as the lead.

I swallowed my resentment, thinking my hard work would eventually pay off through his recommendation.

Then, last year, Joy showed up at the farm.

She wore a designer sundress and held her nose, looking at my muddy clothes with pure disgust.

Sean came running from the office in his suit, his face lighting up the moment he saw her.

"It's so dirty and remote here, Joy. What are you doing here?"

She smiled as he took her luggage.

"You invited me for a vacation, remember? I took three days off just to see you."

A sharp tapping on the window snapped me out of my thoughts.

It was Mrs. Gable, my neighbor.

Sylvie! Your pipes burst again! Waters leaking into my kitchen!

I rushed back to the shack to shut off the main valve, but the damage was done.

The water was already ankle-deep over the plywood floor.

Everything I owned was soaked, and the dampness was spreading through the thin walls.

I apologized to Mrs. Gable and promised to pay for the repairs.

She sighed and looked at me with pity.

This shack is a death trap, honey. When is that husband of yours coming back?

I kept my head down and didn't answer.

I dont get it, she continued. Why did you follow him to this hole in the wall?

You gave up your whole life for him, and now hes gone and left you behind.

I rubbed the thick calluses on my hands.

Yeah, I whispered to myself. Why did I give up everything?

Three years ago, we had just gotten our marriage license.

Sean was just a low-level salesman back then.

He told me he didn't want to be a nobody forever.

He said he needed to pay his dues in the field to earn a real promotion.

I was so proud of his ambition that I canceled our wedding and quit my job.

I sold the house and car my parents bought me.

I took every cent of my savings and followed him to Clearwater Valley.

On our first day, an old staffer showed us the dorms.

It was a tiny room, barely two hundred square feet, with a single cot and a plastic chair.

There was no bathroom, and the exposed pipes looked ready to snap.

Seans eyes went red as he held me.

Sylvie, I couldn't afford a real dowry, and now Ive brought you to this hellhole... Ill make it up to you for the rest of my life.

Believe in me. Ill work until I break to get us back to the city.

Back then, he was actually good to me.

He went into the fields with me and stood up for me when the farmers were difficult.

Life was hard, but he fanned me in the summer and gave me his coat in the winter.

I really thought we were building a future together.

But as soon as the blue potato harvest became a success, he found reasons to move into a climate-controlled office.

He stopped helping with the manual labor.

He just sent people to bring me the ledgers and contracts to review while he sat in the shade.

Then Joy arrived.

He said her parents were pressuring her, and she needed a break.

He booked her a nice hotel in town and took her to fancy dinners while I ate canned soup.

Then he said shed be forced into an arranged marriage unless she got a corporate job.

So, he used the success of my project to write her a glowing recommendation.

With a few strokes of a pen, he gave Joy everything that belonged to me.

The shack was uninhabitable now, so I moved back into the shipping container by the field.

After changing into dry clothes, I saw an unread email.

Dear Ms. Hart, we regret to inform you that your job application has been rejected.

Three years. Twelve applications. All rejected.

It didn't make sense.

I had the degree and three years of results. Why wouldn't they hire me?

I scrolled to the bottom of the rejection letter to see the sender's name.

j.jennings@aegisgroup.com

Joy Jennings.

I thought she was in logistics.

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as I searched her name on the intranet.

Joy Jennings. Assistant Manager of Human Resources. Lead Recruiter for HQ and Regional Branches.

Sean had been lying to my face.

He gave my credits to Joy so she could become the HR manager.

And she used that power to block me from ever leaving this farm.

They were the power couple, while I was the dirt under their boots.

Was I just a stepping stone for them?

I didn't sleep at all that night.

The next morning, I packed a bag, determined to go to headquarters.

But when I stepped out of the container, a group of angry farmers blocked my path.

Hey, Sylvie! Were still missing two hundred thousand for last months harvest!

Your man ran off to the city. If you dont pay up, you aren't leaving this valley!

My throat was so dry it felt like swallowing glass.

But they were right.

Since Sean left, he had transferred all twenty-five employees out of this branch.

I was the only one left, and I wasn't even on the payroll.

Two hours later, I was on a bumpy bus ride to the station.

I had used the last of my savingsDthe final $200,000Dto pay the farmers.

I only had a few bucks left for a bus ticket.

Three years ago, I came here with two million dollars.

I had sunk almost all of it into the project, and I hadn't seen a dime back.

I wasn't the spoiled girl I used to be.

I clutched my old backpack and didn't make a sound.

I could handle the labor, but I couldn't handle being discarded like trash.

I needed an answer from Sean.

Clearwater was so far away that I didn't reach the city until three nights later.

I managed to sneak into the company headquarters.

Passing the grand ballroom, I saw Joy in a stunning evening gown.

On the massive screen behind her was the presentation I had stayed up all night to finish.

But where my name should have been, hers was written in bold letters.

I felt like I couldn't breathe. Then Sean walked onto the stage.

I heard the employees near the door gossiping.

Mr. Sterling is personally presenting the Manager of the Year award to his own wife. They really are the ultimate power couple.

Did you see the prize? A five-million-dollar bonus and a luxury penthouse downtown!

I gripped my backpack straps, watching Sean hand the trophy to Joy.

The look they shared was sickeningly sweet.

Joy Jennings stayed in the trenches, dedicated herself to the Blue Potato project, and led her team through every crisis, Sean announced.

Last year, she made this project the top performer in the company. This award is well-deserved!

Well-deserved?

How could he even say that?

I funded the project. I solved the technical crises with the engineers.

Sean spent his time drinking tea in his office. He didn't even deserve a thank you.

And Joy, who only visited for three days, deserved nothing.

I started to march toward the stage, but a security guard grabbed my arm.

Who are you? Which department?

Show me your ID badge.

I jerked my arm away and turned, locking eyes with Joy as she stepped off the stage.

She froze, her face turning pale for a split second.

Then she walked toward me with a smug look.

What are you doing here?

I glanced at the trophy in her hand.

Why are you on that stage, Joy?

She was wearing four-inch heels, making her tower over me.

She hid the trophy behind her back and leaned in close to my ear.

Come to my office. Ill give you what you want.

Joy dropped a contract on the desk and pushed a pen toward me.

Sign this, and youre an official employee. 0-05,000 a month, a year-end bonus, full benefits, and a housing allowance.

She leaned back in her expensive leather chair with a mocking smile.

For a farm girl like you, thats a fortune, isn't it?

I sat across from her, staring at the calluses on my hands, then at the contract.

The position was for a junior sales rep back in Clearwater Valley.

The lowest rank possible, but with an unusually high salary.

It was hush money.

I looked up. Whats the catch?

She shrugged.

Simple. You sign this and you go back to the valley.

You don't come back to the city without a formal transfer order from HQ.

I stood up so fast my chair nearly flipped.

Youre out of your mind, Joy!

I want to see Sean. Right now.

She tapped her knuckles on the desk.

What good will that do? Hes the one who drafted this contract.

My anger turned into a cold weight in my chest.

What did you say...?

The door opened, and Sean walked in, looking sharp in his designer suit.

Joy, give us a minute, he said.

Joy smirked at me, patted Sean on the shoulder, and stood up.

Dont be too long, babe. We have a victory party to get to.

He nodded, closed the door, and rushed over to me.

Why didn't you tell me you were coming? What if someone saw you?

What are you afraid of, Sean? Afraid theyll find out you dumped your wife in the woods so you could marry another woman?

Seans expression hardened.

So you know.

He lowered his voice to a hiss.

Corporate policy forbids managers from having family members in their direct line of command to prevent nepotism.

Im the Regional GM now. If people knew my wife was the lead on the Blue Potato project, it would ruin my career!

Joy already had the credits, but shes in HR now. If we pretend to be married, no one asks questions. Its the only way to protect what Ive built!

I was stunned by his audacity. I stared at him for a long time.

Three years ago, I sacrificed everything because he said paying my dues would lead to a great future.

Now, he was erasing our entire marriage for that same future.

I squeezed my palms until the skin broke. The sharp pain cleared my head.

I actually started to laugh.

Sean, you told everyone Joy is the mastermind. You told everyone shes your wife. How could I possibly hurt your career?

Seans eyes darkened.

Because everyone in Clearwater knows youre the one who actually did the work.

I pointed at the contract on the desk.

You wrote this?

He nodded.

Every word. I fought to get you that salary. Im trying to take care of you, Sylvie.

I swore Id never let you suffer after all those years in the dirt...

I cut him off.

So your plan is to keep me trapped in that valley forever?

He shook his head quickly.

No, but my position depends on the success of that project. If things go wrong there, Im finished. I need you to keep things running.

Everything was about him. His job. His career. His reputation.

It was pathetic. I had spent three years in the sun and rain for this.

Sean picked up the pen.

Sign it. Ill have Joy advance you three months' pay right now.

Trust me, Sylvie. Once I have more power, Ill bring you back here.

Ill tell everyone the truth then. Ill make sure everyone knows youre the real genius behind the project!

I looked at the pen, then picked up my bag.

Forget it.

He looked shocked that Id say no.

I walked out before he could say another word.

But I didn't leave the building. I took my phone, which had been recording the entire time, and headed straight for the CEOs office.

Breaking Free from the Little Tail and Finding My Own Path

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 13:06:25 +0800

On the night before the study abroad application deadline, the class group chat exploded.

Oh my god, Chloe! Why did you change your application to the UK? Weren't you going to France with Julian?

Chloe said casually, I changed it, that's all. He has my account password anyway.

Once he sees I changed it, he'll definitely change his too. That little tail can't leave my side!

I held my phone, my mind completely blank.

Among the scattered luggage on the floor was a gift I had specially prepared for Chloe.

I exited the group chat, threw the gift away, and didn't look at the application system again.

She didn't know.

She could give up a future with me for Mason, and I could also give up on her, firmly choosing my own path.

Those countless days and nights of hard work had never been just for her.

...

Chloe's words felt like a knife slicing my heart apart.

The schools in France were institutions we had seriously decided on after working hard together for twelve years.

Now, she changed her mind just like that.

Without even telling me face to face.

Someone in the group asked her.

What if Julian doesn't see it? The application closes tomorrow night at midnight.

Chloe replied with faint mockery.

Since the application started, Julian checks it every ten minutes, more diligently than my dad. How could he not see it? Ugh, you wouldn't get it.

Everyone started hyping it up, all saying, You're amazing, Chloe.

Someone else chimed in.

What if Julian doesn't change it? The school in France is better for him, after all.

Chloe was silent for a few seconds before answering, her voice cold.

Bullshit.

Julian has separation anxiety. Before, if he didn't see me for just one day, he'd drop everything and come find me. This time, if he doesn't follow me, he won't see me for three years.

To him, I'm more important than his school. So, he'll definitely choose me.

Everyone fell silent.

After a long time, someone cautiously spoke up.

Chloe, isn't this a bit unfair to Julian? Everyone saw how hard he worked before.

You should at least tell him.

Chloe impatiently said, Tsk, and after a long pause, finally spoke.

Annoying. Don't want to.

You all know what Julian is like. If he finds out I changed it for Mason, he'll just argue and give me a headache.

Better not to say anything. Saves me the trouble.

The group chat became lively again.

True, no matter how good Julian is, he's still not quite as good as Mason.

Chloe, you're something else.

...

Their teasing almost crushed me.

I really wanted to call her, to lose my temper and demand an explanation.

But my finger hovered, unable to press the call button.

In the end, I just numbly threw myself into bed.

Staring at the ceiling, my consciousness began to drift.

How can someone be so fickle?

Back when we were studying French to go to France, we cried our eyes out but never thought of giving up.

Whenever we felt we couldn't go on, we'd look at pictures of the Eiffel Tower and encourage each other.

The day we received the school offers, we cried and laughed, feeling like all our suffering was about to pay off.

But just when the happy ending we wanted was within reach, she suddenly let go of me and ran toward someone else.

Actually, if she wanted to change, I wouldn't have blamed her.

But why couldn't she tell me?

In her eyes, am I really that insignificant?

If she found me annoying, what did that promise she carefully made to me that deep night mean?

Was the night too dark, the light too dim, that she couldn't see clearly who was in front of her?

I held myself tightly, hiding in the darkness, releasing my sorrow.

Actually, it's not that I can't live without her.

I don't have separation anxiety at all.

Since we were kids, whenever we chose different schools or classes, she would become upset for no reason, and only felt better after seeing me.

So I steadily moved forward with my own plans while bringing her along with mine.

Chloe wasn't wrong; I had always included her in my future plans.

When it didn't affect my future, I was willing to follow my heart.

But that doesn't mean I would endlessly indulge her.

I closed the application form I had accidentally opened, wiped my tears.

And never opened the application system again.

She has her choices, I have my principles.

From now on, we'll just go our separate ways.

Right after I washed my face, my phone rang with a video call from Chloe.

Little tail, pick up the phone, I need to see you!

When I didn't answer, she sent several more videos, and finally said:

We're all waiting for you at the usual spot. Come quickly, take a taxi.

But I didn't want to go.

Tired, don't want to go out.

The message was sent, and I immediately got a reply.

Are you sick? I'll come find you.

No, don't come.

I frowned and replied, then received a message from Mason.

I'm sorry. I was the one who insisted on coming with Chloe. I didn't know you'd be upset. I'll leave right away.

As long as you come, it's fine whatever happens to me.

My phone instantly felt like a scented sachetwith a hint of green tea.

Before I could reply, someone started frantically tagging me in the small group chat.

Julian, what's your problem? Can't stand anyone else by Chloe's side? Can't you be less petty?

Jealous that Mason is hotter than you and now you're throwing a tantrum? So lame.

I was stunned for a moment, instinctively wanting to explain, when I saw a message from Chloe.

Julian, I was the one who invited Mason. If you're mad, take it out on me. Why are you making things difficult for him?

Whatever. Come or don't come, we'll have more fun without you anyway.

Then, they sent me several pictures of the food.

Someone said sarcastically:

Food tastes better without vinegar.

What a bunch of psychos.

I left the group without a second thought, and blocked Chloe right after.

No matter how we fought before, she was always my top contact.

But now, she only deserves to be in the blacklist.

Actually, when Mason first transferred here, he was my friend.

Back then, Chloe even warned me that Mason didn't seem like a good person and told me not to get too close to him.

I tried hard to improve their relationship.

Until the welcome party, when Mason took off his dorky black-frame glasses and made a stunning appearance in a white suit.

Chloe never again told me to stay away from him.

She and Mason grew closer and closer.

She even introduced Mason to her childhood friends and other friends.

Before I knew it, my friends had become Mason's friends.

Chloe treated Mason specially.

That one time, Chloe and I had a huge fight, then gave each other the silent treatment for three months.

I said, If you like Mason, then I'll step back.

But Chloe cried and said:

You're the one I care about most.

Mason has depression and comes from a single-parent family. I just feel sorry for him and want to help.

I believed her.

But Chloe treated me like a fool.

Their interactions kept increasing, and the word friends became their cover.

Until now, she changed her application for Mason.

Making me look like a complete idiot!

When I snapped back to reality, it was already dark. My mom had come back at some point and said with a smile when she saw me:

Fighting with Chloe again? You even blocked her on WeChat.

She wants you to unblock her.

I brushed it off casually and went out.

Earlier, our advisor had asked us to confirm our applications at school one more time.

When I arrived, there was an empty seat next to Chloe.

Usually, that was my spot, but Mason sat right down in it.

Chloe didn't say anything. Instead, she casually took the bag Mason handed her.

Her eyes occasionally glanced in my direction.

She was waiting for me to back down.

But this time, she was wrong.

I turned and sat next to the school belle, Lily, far away from them.

Everyone, check carefully. The application channel closes tonight. No regrets later.

The advisor was speaking enthusiastically on the podium when Lily suddenly glanced at my application form.

What a coincidence, I'm going to France too.

Before I could respond, someone tapped my shoulder.

Julian, don't you have anything to say?

I ignored them and was about to talk to Lily when Chloe pulled me out by my arm.

Julian, are you done yet?

Throwing a tantrum, and now you've even blocked me?

I'm warning you, unblock me right now, or don't even think about adding me back later.

I was forced to look at her for a few seconds.

Oh, I wasn't planning on adding you back anyway.

Chloe's face instantly darkened.

Fine. Don't come begging me to talk to you later.

I turned to leave, but she suddenly grabbed me, her eyes serious.

It's almost time. Check your application again carefully, don't make a mistake

She seemed like she wanted to say more, but Mason came over and interrupted her.

Chloe, there's something I don't quite understand. Can you help me look at it?

Okay, I'll check it for you now.

Chloe immediately lowered her head to look at Mason's materials.

I smiled mockingly and walked away.

By the time she wanted to say something else, I was almost back in the classroom.

Julian, remember to check it again, check it carefully!

The Winter They Left Me

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 12:48:16 +0800

Winter in New England had come again.

And just like every year, my husband David and my son Leo developed a bizarre allergic reactionDsevere eczema and rashes all over their bodies.

Every allergy test we did came back negative.

So, they had to quarantine themselves from me, moving into our lakeside cabin in the Adirondacks.

David didn't even come back when I slipped on the icy driveway and needed stitches on my forehead.

He wasn't there when I got into a car accident and faced a long recovery in the hospital alone.

We had become the most familiar of strangers.

To hear them tell it, I was a walking allergen, and getting too close to me would make it hard for them to breathe.

I stayed in our big, empty house, surviving one snow-locked night after another, just waiting for the spring when my family could come home.

That was until one afternoon, just before they left, when I overheard a conversation I was never meant to hear.

"Dad, we only get to see Aunt Emily in the winter. Can't we stay a little longer this time?"

Emily? Davids high school sweetheart?

Through the crack in the door, I saw David affectionately ruffle Leo's hair.

"Too many allergy pills are bad for you, Leo. Aunt Emily would worry. But don't you worry, Dad will take you to see her as soon as I can."

Leo clapped his hands in excitement.

"Awesome! I love the Reese's Peanut Butter Cups we get in the winter. We can only eat them there, and I get to see Aunt Emily!"

Peanuts.

The one thing I fought tooth and nail to keep away from Leo, his deadliest allergen. He has a severe nut allergy that could send him into anaphylactic shock.

I stood in the freezing wind until my hands and feet were numb, then silently went back inside.

When spring finally came, I packed away all my warmth and affection.

"Go ahead, eat whatever you want. If you think this is child abuse, you can call CPS. I don't mind losing custody."

Leo wasn't used to this cold version of me. He froze, not daring to speak for a long moment.

After a while, he tentatively tore open the wrapper of a peanut butter cup.

The look of anticipation in his eyes was a knife in my heart.

He must have thought that one bite would transport him back to the warm embrace of his "Aunt Emily."

All my warnings, the words engraved on his medical alert bracelet, had become a joke.

David rushed over and slapped the candy out of Leos hand.

"Sarah, what the hell is wrong with you today? Leo almost ate peanuts! Do you have any idea how serious his allergy is? That could have killed him!"

Oh, yes. I knew.

I was the one who acted like a paranoid lunatic, throwing out anything in the house that might contain even a trace of nuts.

I was the one who studied ingredient labels at the grocery store like I was doing academic research, terrified of letting anything slip by.

I was the one who told Leo, over and over again:

"You can't eat anything with peanuts, no matter who gives it to you, understand? Your throat will swell up, and we'll have to go to the ER to get a tube put down it. It will hurt a lot."

I was the one who repeated to his teachers and the school nurse, endlessly:

"Leo has a severe nut allergy. Please be extra careful during his lunch."

I treated peanuts like the enemy. But this peanut butter cup was a gift from David. It was their ticket to Emily.

I composed myself, looking at David with cold eyes.

"How did he get a peanut butter cup in the first place? Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

A flash of panic crossed David's eyes before he muttered a few excuses and took Leo upstairs.

In years past, they would have come home expecting a huge, Thanksgiving-style feast and a pile of gifts Id wrapped myself, a celebration of our reunion.

Not this time. The dining table was bare. Not even a pizza box in sight.

David frowned.

"Sarah, what is going on with you today?"

He saw the redness in my eyes, sighed, and softened his tone.

"Are you still upset about the winter? I'll find a way to fix our immune system issues. I hate this goddamn winter for keeping me away when you needed me most."

My nails dug into my palms, drawing blood.

So he did remember.

The year I was pregnant, my mother was diagnosed with leukemia. The doctors said it was critical. David wanted to protect the baby, but I wanted to save my mom.

"I'm doing the bone marrow transplant. No one is stopping me."

No one faced a harder choice. I loved the baby in my belly, but this was the woman who gave me life.

But it was as if my mother knew. Her condition deteriorated rapidly, and she was no longer eligible for a transplant.

It was then that we found out she had secretly stopped her medication. She had given her chance at life to her grandchild.

I gritted my teeth and gave birth to Leo, only to be hit with severe postpartum depression from the hormonal crash.

Winter was the worst. When the snow buried everything, loneliness would swallow me whole.

I couldn't find joy in anything. Several times, I thought about ending it all with the hunting rifle, but then I would think of my son

The child my mother died to bring into this world wasn't even grown. I could never pull the trigger.

I did everything to keep them with me. I'd bundle up like an astronaut, install the best air purification system, and wear an N95 mask inside my own home. But it seemed they couldn't even breathe the same air as me. The rashes always came back, and we could never find the cause.

David would grab our son and rush for the door.

"Sarah, the allergies are acting up, we have to go. Just hang in there. I'll bring him back in the spring."

I couldn't understand it. Id scrub myself raw in the shower, convinced it was my fault.

I felt like I was being punished by God, and I would lie in the bathtub crying until I passed out.

Those winters were so painful they shattered my heart.

And it was all a complete and utter lie.

I pulled my hand away from David's grasp and went back to the master bedroom alone.

That night, Leo ended up in the ER anywayDhe'd gotten greedy and eaten a peanut butter cup hed hidden in his backpack.

A small child can't keep a secret. The allergic reaction made him delirious, and he kept murmuring:

"I want Aunt Emily I don't wanna go home"

Every word was an icicle stabbing into my heart. I had just finished taking notes from the doctor, and I nearly collapsed.

I handed David the notebook with all the instructions and sighed.

"Let's get a divorce. Let his Aunt Emily take care of him."

David thought I was joking, forcing a weak smile.

"He's just talking nonsense because of the fever. You can't believe that."

He looked me in the eyes, his explanation half-truth, half-lie.

"Emily, you know her. We haven't really talked since we got married. I ran into her once when I took Leo skiing. He's probably just mixed up his memories. It's the novelty of seeing someone new."

Before I could respond, Emily Parker herself rushed into the emergency waiting area, making a beeline for Leo's bed.

She hugged him tightly, then turned to scold me.

"Sarah, how could you let him eat peanuts? Leo is such a good boy, why would you let him suffer like this? He was perfectly fine and healthy when he was with me just a few days ago."

The nurses and other families around us started whispering.

"Looks like the stepmom isn't as caring as the real mom. Poor kid."

Perhaps noticing my icy glare, she quickly changed her tune.

"Sarah, don't get the wrong idea, that's not what I meant. I was just so worried about him. It breaks my heart to see him in pain."

I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, trying to calm myself.

He was suffering like this to escape me, to be with his Aunt Emily.

From age three until now. Six whole years...

When I returned, I was about to push the door open when I heard laughter from inside the room.

"Daddy, I want to stay with Aunt Emily for a few more days."

He said it so sweetly. Emily looked at David with hopeful eyes.

David refused without a second thought.

"No. It was dangerous enough for you to come running over here this time. I told you, we can't let Sarah find out about this."

Emily bit her lip, pouting.

"Just this once, please? We just have to make sure Sarah doesn't see. I'll leave as soon as I'm sure he's okay. I only get to see him for three months a year. What's a few more days?"

David stared into her eyes and finally gave in.

"Just this once."

I laughed bitterly to myself. Standing outside the door, I felt like the other woman trying to break up a happy family.

A doctor came in to do his rounds. He looked at David and asked a few questions about Leo's allergy history. David didn't know a single answer. The doctor was getting annoyed.

"What is the child's prior history of allergic reactions? What antihistamines has he used before? What were his most severe symptoms of shock Don't you know these things as his parents?"

Emily wrung her hands awkwardly. David was secretly texting me for help from his pocket.

Just then, I pushed the door open.

"Talk to me. I'm..."

Never mind.

I expertly recited Leo's entire medical history and medication contraindications to the doctor. After all, I carried him for nine months. I couldn't stand to watch him suffer.

Back in the room, Emily made a show of getting ready to leave.

Leo looked at me and suddenly burst into tears.

"No! No! I want Aunt Emily!"

His piercing cries echoed through the room. I knew what this was. They were putting on a show.

They wanted me to leave so they could have their space.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I fought them back. I took one last, long look at Leo.

"Fine. I won't be back."

That night, my head was splitting. In a haze, I instinctively called David.

He rushed home immediately, getting me water and feeding me my pills.

"Don't blame the kid. It's just the novelty of it all. In a few days, he'll be crying for his mommy again. You should use this chance to get some rest. You look like you've wasted away."

He saw that my breathing had steadied and was about to head back to the hospital.

But over the next few days, I became incredibly drowsy. When I was awake, I had a bitter taste in my mouth and sharp, twisting pains in my stomach.

I forced myself to get up and go to the hospital alone.

My family doctor looked at my pale face with concern.

"Sarah, have you changed your medication? Your old antidepressant was working so well for you. You shouldn't switch without consulting me."

I shook my head. I always carried my pills with me, still in the same orange prescription bottle.

But the doctor took the bottle, ran a quick test in the lab, and found something wrong.

"The composition is very similar to Ambien. Aren't you intolerant to this type of medication? I prescribed it for you once before when your insomnia was severe, and you had these exact side effects. Your sleep is fine now, who switched your prescription?"

An icy chill shot through my body.

I remembered seeing David crushing pills in the kitchen the other day. I couldn't believe it.

David was annoyed that I had called and disturbed them that night. To prevent it from happening again, he had been feeding me sleeping pills.

Just a little while ago, he had been pretending to be concerned.

"Be careful not to mix up your pills when you take them."

Now, the best way to keep me from bothering them was to keep me asleep.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

My heart felt like it was being sliced open, slowly, with a dull knife.

I went home and started packing. I couldn't delay the divorce any longer.

While sorting through papers, a crumpled sheet of composition paper fell out.

The teacher's comment was written in red ink: [A+. A sincere love, just for Mom. Great job!]

I froze for a moment. I remembered when Leo was in kindergarten, the first song he learned was "You Are My Sunshine."

I'd hold his hand on the way home, and he'd sing in his little voice:

"Mommy, I'm going to buy you a big house one day. My mommy is the best in the world."

I picked up the paper and began to read.

[My mom and I are like frost on a winter night. We only come together in the cold, and as soon as it gets warm, we melt away. I just wish winter would come sooner.]

Every line was filled with love, but it wasn't for me. A wave of defeat washed over me, and I felt my spine collapse.

I sat alone in the living room for a long time. Then I stood up, wiped my mother's urn clean, and held it tightly in my arms.

Mom, the "gift" you left for me is broken. I'm taking you with me.

I don't need anyone else.

The sound of the lock turning snapped me out of my thoughts. David was home with Leo, who was now out of the hospital.

Leo was still a little kid, unable to hide his excitement.

"Dad, now we have to wait another nine months. I have to sit up straight at dinner again, and I can't eat this, and I can't touch that. It's torture."

David tapped him lightly on the head.

"Don't say that. Your mother is just trying to do what's best for you."

Leo pouted.

"But I'm not happy. Aunt Emily isn't like that."

So that's how it was.

Hearing those words, I felt strangely calm.

The nine months he called "torture" were the months I cherished, the months I spent pouring all my love and care into him.

I was constantly terrified, scared the three-month "allergy" season would get longer, scared I would lose them.

And to them, it was a prison sentence.

Seeing me in the bedroom, David assumed I hadn't heard. He signaled for Leo to be quiet and walked in.

"Sarah, he's just being a brat. It's a good thing you didn't come to the hospital; he would have driven you crazy."

I mumbled a reply, placing my mother's urn into a travel bag.

I made an excuse about going to the grocery store, grabbed my marriage certificate, and went to see a lawyer. The young lawyer only had to glance at the document before his brow furrowed.

"Mrs. Sarah. There's a problem with this marriage certificate."

He sighed, his eyes filled with pity.

"This is a forgery. Or rather, it's invalid. We've seen a number of cases like this recently. If this is the case, you don't need a divorce, because legally, you were never married. In fact, you could sue him for fraud."

I was so exhausted I could barely stand.

All these years

I felt like a complete and utter clown. I didn't even have the right to be angry.

My cherished family wasn't my family at all.

I started to wonder if I was losing my mind. The child I nearly died to bring into this worldDwas he not even mine? Did he just happen to look a little like me?

How could he do this to me?

In my mother's final days, I had become the "mistress" she always hated, giving birth to a child out of wedlock.

When I got home, Emily was there again. She was sitting on the sofa and quickly stood up when she saw me.

"Oh, Sarah, you're back. I was just about to leave. I was just passing by and wanted to see how Leo was doing."

I stopped her, closing the door behind me.

"You don't have to go. There are some things we need to clear up."

I pulled the invalid marriage certificate from my bag. My voice was calm, but broken.

"I want an explanation."

I was a masochist, torturing myself. What misunderstanding could there possibly be? He hid it for six years, but I just wanted to hear it from his own mouth.

I begged him, silently. Just tell me another lie. Tell me the lawyer was wrong. Tell me I was his legal wife.

Tell me there was no bigamy, no fraud.

Tell me the love, the sweetness, the simple happiness of the past years were all real.

Tell me the allergy was just some curse, and that all my prayers were about to break it.

David looked incredibly uncomfortable under my stare. Finally, he spoke.

"Sarah, something happened with Emily back then. She got really sick and needed good health insurance. If you and I didn't get married, I couldn't have added her to my plan She's an old friend, I couldn't just let her die. I had to but I swear, my feelings for you are real."

My ears were ringing. I couldn't hear anything anymore.

I wouldn't listen. I wouldn't listen...

So it was for insurance fraud. For bigamy.

I didn't even have a legal claim. I had no right to scream.

David touched my shoulder.

"Sarah, calm down."

But I was already calm. Too calm. I couldn't even raise my hand to shout "get out," because in this legal reality, I was the one who didn't belong.

I almost wanted to laugh. This house, this family I was the intruder.

I remembered how he started traveling for "work" so often right after we got "married."

And what a blessing my child was for them. They found the perfect excuse in his "allergy" to spend three glorious months together every single year.

It must have been so hard for them.

David stared at me, stunned.

"Sarah, don't be like this. My marriage to Emily isn't real it's in name only. I was going to annul it, but her health has been so poor all these years, I just never got around to it. I'll go file the paperwork in a few days."

Emily came over, offering a fake apology, but then she "accidentally" knocked over a nearby display shelf.

As the heavy shelf tipped over, David's first instinct was to pull me to safety. But in the next second, he let me go and lunged to shield Emily.

I was knocked to the ground by the shelf. Shards of glass sliced open my arm, and blood poured out.

And that father and son, they rushed to Emily's side.

"Are you hurt? Does it hurt anywhere? You're so fragile, come on, let's get you to a hospital!"

As they fussed over another woman, I pulled myself up from the floor, clutching my bleeding arm, and walked straight out the door.

I started humming the song from our wedding.

Back then, we only had eyes for each other.

We should never see each other again.

By the time David turned around, Sarah was gone. All that was left was a shocking trail of blood on the floor. He shot up and ran outside.

But the hallway was empty.

Sick Daughter Is Only an IOU

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 12:37:36 +0800

Since I was a child, I've known that my parents were my biggest creditors. They were the ones I'd never be able to pay back.

When I brought home a perfect report card, my father would scowl. That's what you're supposed to do, he'd bark. Don't get cocky.

If I did poorly, my mother would scream. You're a waste of food! We're raising a parasite for nothing!

When I started college, they made me sign a formal IOU for every cent. Four years, fifty thousand dollars. I had to pay it back with interest the second I graduated.

After my first paycheck, my father demanded I transfer every penny to his account. My mother stood by his side, sharpening her words like a knife.

"We raised you for twenty years," she said. "Your salary belongs to us until that debt is cleared."

Even when I took a sick day and my pay was docked, they teamed up to berate me. "Useless brat," they'd say. "Losing money is a sin. Raising you is nothing but a burden."

But this time, I'm done.

I'm not paying another cent.

And I'm never going back to that house.

The lights in the hallway were blindingly bright when I walked in, clutching my bag of medication.

All I wanted was to crawl into my room, take my pills, and sleep for a century.

I had barely kicked off my shoes when my parents cornered me in the living room.

My mother was wiping the coffee table. Her eyes flicked to the pharmacy bag in my hand, and she froze.

She slammed the rag down with a wet thud.

"Buying more useless junk, I see!" she shrieked.

"Willa, what's with the drama now? Are you just trying to skip work? Inventing excuses to dodge your debts?"

My father stood up from the sofa, holding a printout of my digital pay stub. His face was a mask of cold fury.

"You complain about every little ache," he spat. "Back in our day, we sucked it up. You're not that special."

"Faking a sickness just to avoid your responsibilities... it's pathetic."

I gripped the paper bag so hard my knuckles turned white. The hard edge of the targeted therapy box dug into my palm.

"I'm not faking," I said. My voice sounded thin and mechanical, even to me.

"It's cancer. The doctor said if I don't take these"

My mother let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Or what? You'll die?"

She lunged forward and snatched the bag from my hand, tearing it open to find the box.

The moment she saw the price tag on the receipt, her face turned a sickly shade of gray.

"Two thousand dollars? Are you insane?" she screamed.

"You could have bought a pack of aspirin for five bucks! You're throwing money away!"

"We didn't raise you to be a spendthrift! This is our money you're burning!"

My father chimed in, his voice dripping with resentment.

"We never go to the doctor. We handle our own pain. We only buy the generic stuff when it's absolutely necessary."

"And here you are, acting like a little princess, spending a fortune on a common cold."

I watched them, their faces twisted with greed, and I couldn't stay silent.

"This isn't for fun. This is for my cancer. It's my only chance to stay alive."

My mother laughed again, a high-pitched, grating sound that set my teeth on edge.

"Cancer? Willa, if you're going to lie, at least make it believable. You're so desperate to get out of your debt that you'd claim to be dying!"

Before I could blink, she swung her hand and slapped me across the face.

The force sent me sprawling to the floor. I felt the metallic sting of blood in my mouth.

She looked down at me with zero pity, only pure, unadulterated rage.

"How dare you talk back? Even if you are sick, it's your own fault for not taking care of yourself."

"Wasting our money on this... you deserve whatever happens to you!"

My father stepped forward and kicked my side, a dull thud echoing in the room.

"Is this why we raised you? To watch you squander everything?"

"Return those drugs and give us the cash by tonight, or don't bother coming back inside."

I lay on the floor, hand pressed to my burning cheek. My vision was blurred, the air filled with their insults.

Memories flooded back.

When I had a 103-degree fever, my mother had just felt my forehead and sneered.

"Stop acting. Get up and get to work. You owe us money."

When I came home crying after being bullied, my father had just shrugged.

"You must have done something to deserve it. Don't bring your drama to this house."

When I won my first scholarship and wanted a new backpack, my mother snatched the check.

"You don't deserve new things. This goes toward your debt."

Suddenly, my mother's eyes widened as if she'd remembered something. She bolted into my bedroom.

A moment later, her scream pierced the air. "Harold! Get in here! Look at this!"

My father rushed in. His voice roared from the bedroom.

"I knew it! You've been hiding money! Were you planning to run away and stiff us?"

My mother marched out, holding a small metal tin. She shook it at me while I was still on the floor.

"We worked ourselves to the bone for you, and you've been hoarding cash behind our backs!"

"You have no heart. No gratitude. We should have never had you!"

I looked at the tin. I looked at their monstrous faces. And suddenly, I started to laugh.

I crawled to my feet, wiped the blood from my lip, and stared them down with a terrifying calm.

"That's my survival fund," I said quietly. "That's for my treatment. It's not your debt. And it's not yours."

My mother began to wail, covering her face in a mock display of heartbreak.

"Harold, look at her! Look at the daughter we raised!"

"We gave her everything, and now that she's 'sick,' she wants to leave us to starve! She doesn't care if we live or die!"

She pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling as she opened the family group chat.

Notifications started chiming instantly as she typed out her sob story.

"Family, please, I need your help! Tell me if I'm wrong!"

"We've lived on scraps just to put her through school. We don't even buy medicine for ourselves!"

"But Willa? She's been hiding a secret fortune while we struggle! She even attacked us when we found out!"

"Twenty years of sacrifice, and now that she's successful, she wants to throw us away like trash!"

The messages from relatives started flooding in.

Aunt Brenda: "Kids these days are so entitled. How could she treat her own parents like that?"

Cousin Mike: "Unbelievable. My kids give me their whole checks. Willa was always a brat."

Uncle Jim: "Don't cry, Martha. She just needs to be put in her place. She forgot where she came from."

My mother held the phone up to my face, her eyes gleaming with malice.

"See, Willa? Everyone knows you're a disgrace! How can you even stand there?"

My father growled, "Give us the money, or we're going to your office. We'll tell your boss exactly what kind of person you are."

"We'll make sure you never work in this town again."

I looked at the screen, then at them. I walked to the sofa and picked up my own phone.

I opened the group chat and typed a single sentence.

"You're right. I've been selfish. I'll hand over every cent of my salary and bonuses from now on. It won't happen again."

The moment I hit send, the screen filled with praise. Thats a good girl, and Glad you finally came to your senses.

Each message felt like a fresh slap to my face.

My mothers tone shifted instantly to a fake, sickly sweetness.

Since youve apologized, you can keep the medicine for now. But I want your debit card.

Your check will be direct-deposited into my account from now on. Its for your own good. You clearly cant be trusted.

A week later, I received my quarterly performance bonus. My phone exploded before I even left my desk.

It was the company-wide Slack channel. I was tagged in dozens of messages.

My mother had somehow bullied her way into the contact list. Shed posted a long, rambling voice note.

Her voice was shrill, echoing through the quiet office. Listen up, everyone! Im Willas mother!

I need you all to know what kind of person Willa Lane really is! Shes a liar and a thief who steals from her aging parents!

The office went silent. I gripped my phone, my stomach churning with a familiar, stabbing pain.

Then, a message from my father popped up. He had tagged the CEO, Mr. Miller.

Mr. Miller, that bonus you gave Willa? Youre encouraging her to be a bad daughter!

Youre helping her hide money from the people who raised her! You have no morals!

The CEO replied a few minutes later. His tone was professional but icy.

Willa earned her bonus through hard work. Her private life is her own.

Please refrain from using our professional channels for family disputes.

My father went nuclear. He started spamming the channel with dozens of messages a minute.

Private life? She owes us everything! Her money is our money!

Youre corrupting your employees! Youre teaching them to be ungrateful!

Listen up, everyone! You all owe your parents! Your paychecks belong to them!

Don't be like Willa! Don't be a debt-dodger! An ungrateful child has no place in society!

Debt must be paid! Helping her is a sin!

The channel fell into a deafening silence. No one defended me. No one even looked at me.

My mother posted another audio clip, sobbing loudly.

We sacrificed for twenty years, and now shes trying to run away with her secret cash! We have nothing!

Finally, a younger coworker named Sarah typed a small message.

Maam, Willa is a great worker. Im sure theres just a misunderstanding

My mother tagged her immediately. Shut up! Youre just as bad as she is! Youre helping her ruin us!

Then she turned her sights back on me.

Willa, post a public apology right now. Admit youre a liar and a debt-dodger.

Promise to hand over every cent. If its not sincere, don't bother showing up for work tomorrow.

My father added: And record a video of yourself reading it. We want everyone to see your shame.

If you don't, well be standing at the front door of your office tomorrow morning with signs.

When I posted the apology and the video, my fingers were numb.

In the video, I held the paper with trembling hands, reading the words like a script for a play I hated.

The office remained a ghost town for me over the next few days.

People who used to grab coffee with me now took the long way to the breakroom to avoid my desk.

At lunch, I sat alone. A sea of empty chairs surrounded me like a moat.

On Friday afternoon, the bosss secretary tapped on my cubicle. Mr. Miller wants to see you.

I walked into his office, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Willa, youre a talented girl, he said, not looking me in the eye. But this drama is a distraction.

The team is uncomfortable. I think you need to take some time off to handle your family issues.

As I walked out, the whispers followed me like a physical weight.

So she really was stealing from her parents?

No wonder they showed up here. Imagine being that heartless.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell them about the hospital visits and the scans. But the words wouldn't come.

When I got home, my parents were waiting on the sofa like vultures.

We saw the video, my mother said, her face smug. Itll do for now.

But wheres the bonus? Transfer it. And I want you to ask for an advance on next months pay.

I felt a surge of desperation. I can't. I have an appointment next week. I need the co-pay for the new meds

My father slammed his fist on the table. Meds again? Youre obsessed with this lie!

Transfer the money, or were going back to your boss to tell him youre still lying.

I watched their faces, twisted and ugly. I hit the transfer button. I even requested the advance.

When the transaction cleared, my bank balance was less than fifty dollars. Not even enough for the generic stuff.

A week later, I went for my check-up. The oncologist looked at my scans and sighed.

The tumor is spreading, Willa. We need to switch to the aggressive, imported treatment immediately. If we don't

I took the results home and showed them to my parents. I was practically begging.

Mom, Dad, its getting worse. I need some of that money back. Just enough for the first round.

My mother didn't even look at the papers. Imported drugs? Why don't you just ask for a private jet?

Youre making this up to get your money back. We aren't stupid, Willa.

I tried to push the papers toward her. Its right here! The doctor wrote it down!

My father grabbed the papers and ripped them into confetti. The doctor is probably your friend!

Get out! Youre a curse on this house! If you want to play dead, go do it somewhere else!

He grabbed my arm and shoved me toward the door. My mother helped, pushing my back with her heels.

The door slammed shut, locking out the warmth and the light.

I stood in the cold hallway with nothing but a small suitcase and a dying body.

I found a tiny, illegal basement apartment in a rough part of town. It was damp and smelled of mold.

I lived on instant noodles and cheap over-the-counter painkillers, dragging myself to work every day.

One afternoon, the room started spinning.

The pain in my abdomen was a white-hot iron. The words on my screen turned into black ants.

Right before I hit the floor, I heard someone scream. Then, everything went black.

I woke up to the sound of a siren. Someone was holding my hand.

In the ER, the nurse tried to call my emergency contact.

When my mother picked up, her voice was loud enough for the whole room to hear.

Another stunt? Tell her we aren't coming! Shes just trying to skip her debt!

Shes faking it! Don't call us again!

The nurse looked at me with such profound pity I wanted to vanish. They hung up, she whispered.

I stared at the flickering fluorescent lights.

In their eyes, my life wasn't worth a single cent of the debt they claimed I owed.

I checked myself out of the hospital against medical advice. I couldn't afford the bill.

Back in my damp basement, I curled up on the thin mattress. The pain was winning.

Sarah from work came by a few times. She cried when she saw how thin Id become.

She pressed two hundred dollars into my hand. Please, Willa. Get some real food.

I couldn't even find the breath to say thank you.

A few days later, I started coughing up blood. The fever was a constant, burning haze.

I couldn't get out of bed to go to work. I sent a sick-leave request with a shaking finger.

But my parents found out. They went on the warpath again.

On Facebook, my mother posted: Our daughter is hiding in a basement to avoid paying us back!

Shes a monster! We are starving while she hoards her riches!

You Left Me in the Rain, I Built an Empire

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 12:29:30 +0800

The day I broke up with Liam Carter, he was fixing Chloe Vances computer.

I placed my apartment key on the console table in the entryway.

He didn't even look up.

Just eat the Chinese takeout on the table. Chloe needs this presentation ASAP.

I glanced at the greasy paper box leaking sauce, the General Tso's chicken he'd grabbed from the 24-hour place on the corner.

Meanwhile, he was cradling Chloes brand-new MacBook Pro, the one shed brought back from Europe, like a newborn baby.

"Liam, let's break up."

I said it calmly.

His fingers paused on the keyboard, and then he scoffed.

"Eva, don't be dramatic. It's just a computer. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

I didn't say another word.

I just grabbed my suitcase, which was already packed, and walked out the door.

The rain in New York was heavy that night.

He didn't follow me.

He didn't even send me a text.

I found out later that he stayed at Chloe's apartment until three in the morning.

And me? I waited two hours for an Uber in a torrential downpour, my fever spiking to 102 degrees Fahrenheit.

...

The wheels of my suitcase hummed a dull tune against the wet asphalt.

Icy rain trickled down the back of my neck from the edge of my umbrella.

I didn't call a car right away.

I just wanted to see if the man who once swore hed drive across all of Brooklyn to pick me up, no matter how late, would push open that door for me now.

The old apartment building behind me was lit up.

A warm, yellow light glowed from the fifth-floor window on the left. Our home for two years.

I saw a figure move past the window. It was Liam.

He seemed to be hunched over a desk, working quickly.

Chloe was probably sitting right beside him, her chin in her hand, praising him for being so smart and capable in that sweet Southern accent of hers.

It was a scene that had played out countless times over the past six months.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I thought it was him.

It was a notification from DoorDash, asking me to rate my last order.

The traffic light at the corner changed colors with a mechanical click.

I stood in a puddle, watching the neon lights of Times Square blur in the distance.

Liam was a persistent man, I'll give him that.

When we were starting out together at an ad agency on Madison Avenue, wed pull all-nighters for a pitch, and hed give me the last Red Bull in the office.

"Eva, once I make enough money, I'll give you a life where you can walk down Fifth Avenue and buy anything you want."

Back then, his shirt collar was smudged with dirt, but his eyes were impossibly bright.

Hed saved up some money now.

He was the creative group head.

But the life he promised now had Chloe Vance squeezed into it.

Chloe was his college classmate, "the one that got away," as he called her. She had just moved back from London.

All she had to do was frown a little, and Liam would drop me, burning up with a fever, to go help her change a lightbulb.

"She's all alone in New York, it's not easy for her."

That was his favorite line.

And what about me?

I was alone, too.

The rain fell harder, blurring my vision completely.

I finally hailed a yellow cab.

"Where to?" the driver asked in a thick Bronx accent.

I opened my mouth, but I realized I didn't have anywhere to go.

My family was all the way in California.

In this East Coast city, the only thing tying me down was the key I had just left on that console table.

"Just drive. Find a clean motel,"

I said softly.

The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, said nothing, and hit the gas.

I leaned against the window, watching the city streak past.

It was a strange feeling.

There was no hysteria, no soul-crushing heartbreak.

Just a vast, hollow exhaustion.

It felt like I had been running a three-year marathon, and right before the finish line, I just decided to stop.

My phone buzzed again.

This time, it was Liam.

"Eva, are you done with your tantrum? Where did you put the key? Chloe's backup hard drive is in the drawer, and I can't find it."

I looked at the text and laughed bitterly.

He hadn't even noticed that I had taken all of my clothes and makeup.

All he cared about was that damn hard drive.

My fingers moved, and I blocked his number.

The moment I did, I could breathe again.

Turns out, cutting someone out of your life only takes a second.

The motel sheets smelled of cheap disinfectant.

I lay there, staring at the smoke detector on the ceiling.

Waves of dizziness from the fever washed over me, my limbs heavy as lead.

I threw up twice during the night. My stomach was empty and clenched in pain.

I forced myself up and swallowed two Tylenol and a painkiller.

With Liam blocked, the world was finally quiet.

The next morning, I was jolted awake by a call from my boss, Kate.

"Eva, the client for the medical device project wants an in-person meeting this afternoon. Get ready."

I clutched my cramping stomach, my voice a raw whisper.

"Kate, I have a high fever. I need to take a sick day."

Kate was silent for a moment, then her tone turned sour.

"A sick day? Liam just told me you were ignoring my calls because you're having a fight with him. He said you're perfectly fine."

"He also said you're just being a 'drama queen' again and that I shouldn't indulge you."

My hand holding the phone started to shake.

So thats what he thought. My misery, my sicknessDit was all just an act to get his attention.

"I understand. I'll be there on time."

I hung up and dragged myself to the bathroom.

The woman in the mirror was pale and lifeless.

I put on heavy makeup, choosing a bright red lipstick to hide how sick I was.

Before leaving, I took two more painkillers to fight off the crushing weakness.

At two p.m., I walked into the client's conference room.

Liam was already there, handing Chloe a bottle of Evian water.

Chloe was dressed in a classy Burberry suit, attending as the client's legal counsel.

When he saw me, Liam frowned, his voice dripping with arrogant victory.

"So you finally decided to show up? Eva, there's a limit to these tantrums. Was blocking me really necessary?"

I ignored him, walked straight to the head of the table, and opened my folder.

The fever was making my vision swim with double images.

I bit my tongue, hard, using the sharp pain to stay focused.

Chloe spoke up, her voice sweet and gentle.

"Eva, Liam told me you were upset last night. Was it because of my computer? Did I get in your way?"

I looked up, my eyes cold as I scanned her face.

"Ms. Vance, this is a business negotiation. If your professional skills only extend to gossip, you can wait outside."

The smile on Chloe's face froze.

Liams expression soured. "Eva, don't be an bitch. Chloe was just trying to be nice."

I let out a cold laugh, pushed myself to my feet, and started my presentation.

Every word I spoke felt like fire in my lungs. Cold sweat soaked through my blouse.

I was running on fumes, relying on muscle memory to deliver the hard data I knew by heart.

My logic had to be flawless, my voice steady, even though the hand holding the laser pointer wouldn't stop trembling.

When the meeting ended, the client's director looked impressed. Liam, however, looked at me with suspicion.

He must have noticed something was wrong.

I closed my laptop, my body so weak I thought I would collapse.

"Eva, your hand is burning up."

Liam reached for me, but I dodged his touch.

"Mr. Carter, don't waste your concern on a 'drama queen.' I wouldnt want you to catch it."

Chloe chimed in. "Liam was just worried. He even made a reservation at your favorite sushi place to make it up to you"

A bitter smile touched my lips as I looked at Liam's guilt-ridden face.

"Liam, I became allergic to seafood a year ago. I can't eat at that restaurant anymore."

"I guess you save all your attention to detail for other people."

Liam's mouth opened, but no words came out. His face turned from pale to red.

I didn't wait for his reply. I straightened my back and walked out of the conference room.

Liam blocked the elevator door, refusing to let me leave.

"Eva, can you stop being so aggressive all the time? I admit I neglected you last night, but didn't I apologize?"

His apologies always had that condescending tone.

Like he was doing me a huge favor by even speaking to me.

I looked at him, and for a moment, his face seemed like a stranger's.

"Apologize? Liam, what was in that apology besides 'I didn't mean it'?"

I pointed to the mirror next to the elevator.

"Look at yourself. When you were defending her in that meeting, did you even remember I was your girlfriend?"

Chloe spoke up from the side, her voice soft.

"Liam was just being professional, Eva. Don't you think you're being a little too sensitive?"

"Professional?"

I sneered.

"Since you want to talk about being professional, Ms. Vance, let me ask you something. In the draft contract, your legal interpretation of the liability waiver in clause three clearly favors your client. As a legal counsel, where the fuck is your professional integrity?"

Chloe's face went white.

She never expected me to call her out on a technicality.

Liam frowned, instinctively moving to shield her.

"Eva, you don't have to target her."

"I'm targeting a professional error."

I pressed the down button for the elevator.

"And by the way, Liam, we're broken up. From now on, call me Eva. Or Ms. Miller."

The elevator doors slowly closed, and I saw the flash of anger and shock on Liam's face.

He probably thought I'd come crawling back, just like all the other times, if he just said a few sweet words.

Back to that apartment filled with his takeout dinners but empty of any real affection.

After leaving the office building, I went straight to a real estate agency nearby.

I had already found a studio apartment in Manhattan online the night before.

It was expensive, but it was close to the office, and more importantly, it didn't have the stench of Liam all over it.

I signed the long-term lease, paid the deposit and first month's rent, and got the keys. By the time I was done, it was eight p.m.

I sat on the floor of the empty apartment, looking out at the city lights.

My phone lit up with messages from my best friend, Maya.

"Eva, you really did it? I just saw Chloes Instagram. Is that Liam cooking her pasta?"

I opened the screenshot Maya sent.

In the photo, under warm lighting, Liam was in the kitchen wearing an apron, busy at the stove.

The caption read: "It feels so good to take care of you. #homecooking #cozy"

I stared at the familiar figure in the picture.

That apron. I had bought it last month at Williams Sonoma. It was part of a matching set.

And that pasta he had promised to make it for me countless times but never had.

"Good for them,"

I texted Maya back.

My heart didn't even ache.

Maybe I was past the point of pain. My nerves were just numb.

"Good for them? My ass! You're burning up with a fever while he's playing house with his old flame. That man is a walking piece of trash."

Maya sent a string of angry emojis.

"Just wait, I'll set you up with some hotties from Wall Street. We'll make him sick with jealousy."

I put my phone down without replying.

I didn't want a hot guy right now.

I wanted money. Lots and lots of money.

Only money could give me security, a real foundation in this city, instead of just drifting like a weed.

For the next week, I buried myself in work.

The medical device project was in a critical phase, and I worked past midnight every day.

Liam, who was on the technical side, had to work with me.

He sent me a few personal messages.

"Eva, I packed up all your stuff. When are you coming to get it?"

"Eva, stop sulking and come home. I've already cleared things up with Chloe."

"It's not safe for you in a motel. Listen to me."

My reply was always the same: "Ship it to the office."

On the ninth day, a huge box arrived.

Inside were my clothes, skincare products, and other small things.

He even sent back the matching watches I had bought for us.

I tossed my watch into the trash without a second thought.

My coworker, Sam, walked by and gasped.

"Eva, that watch is worth hundreds of dollars! Why did you throw it away?"

"It's broken. Can't be fixed," I said flatly.

Just then, Liam walked in.

He was probably there to go over some data with me.

He heard what I said and saw the watch in the trash can.

His face turned ugly.

"Eva, do you have to be like this?"

He stood in front of my desk, his voice tight with anger.

I looked up and smiled politely.

"Liam, if it's work, let's talk. If not, please move. I have a report to finish."

"You saved up for two months to buy me that!" he hissed.

"You said it yourself. I bought it."

I stared him straight in the eye.

"And now I don't want it anymore. Is it illegal to throw away my own things?"

Liam's fists were clenched, a vein throbbing in his forehead.

Our coworkers were stealing glances at us.

Chloe appeared out of nowhere, holding two Starbucks cups.

"Oh my, Liam, what's all the shouting about? Eva, don't be mad. Liam just thinks it's a shame to throw away the watch."

She placed a coffee on my desk.

"This one's for you. A skinny vanilla latte with one pump of syrup. I asked Liam what you like."

I looked at the coffee, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Ms. Vance, your intelligence sources are a little outdated."

I poured the coffee into the planter next to my desk.

"I'm not just allergic to seafood. I gave up sweets a long time ago."

I stood up, looking directly at Liam.

"And Liam, stop parading your little 'sister' around me. It's fucking disgusting."

The air in the office froze.

Chloe's face went from white to red, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Eva, I was just trying to smooth things over"

Liam finally lost it.

"Eva! That's enough! Chloe is humbling herself to be nice to you, and you treat her like this? Who the hell do you think you are?"

He was so indignant, you'd think I was the one bullying the poor, innocent girl.

I looked at him and laughed out loud.

"Being nice to me? Liam, are you even listening to yourself?"

I walked around my desk and stood in front of Chloe.

"Ms. Vance, a few minutes ago in the break room, you were telling Julie from reception that I was 'too aggressive' and that it's 'no wonder I can't keep a man.' You didn't look so sweet and innocent then."

For a split second, Chloe's mask cracked.

She probably never thought someone would overhear her in the break room.

"You you misheard me,"

she stammered, shrinking behind Liam.

Liam frowned.

"Eva, are you sure? Chloe's not like that."

"You'll find out what she's like sooner or later."

I turned away from them and sat back down at my computer.

"Now, please leave my desk. If this personal drama affects the project timeline, I will report it to Kate. In full detail."

The mention of Kate's name seemed to deflate him a little.

Kate was known for being an iron-fisted manager who hated office romances interfering with work.

He shot me a venomous look, then pulled Chloe away.

Later that afternoon, Maya messaged me.

"Eva, latest update! Chloe is telling everyone at her law firm that you're using your position as project lead to bully her. You need to be careful."

My fingers never stopped typing.

"Let her talk. The legal department isn't stupid. They care about results, not tears."

I knew exactly what kind of person Chloe was. Her whole strategy was to play the victim.

But she forgot one thing: this is the corporate world, not a reality TV show.

A few days later, the project reached the final bidding stage.

We were up against several competitors.

We needed to submit a highly detailed report on our technical framework and legal compliance.

Liam was in charge of the technical part, and Chloe handled the legal side.

It was their first time collaborating so closely on this project.

I reviewed their first draft. It was full of holes.

To show off, Chloe had cited a bunch of outdated European court cases that sounded impressive but were completely irrelevant.

And Liam, trying to accommodate her "logic," had turned his solid technical plan into a convoluted mess.

I sat in my office, looking at their report, and I just smiled.

I didn't correct their mistakes.

I had already warned Liam twice to focus on the core technical logic.

His response? "Chloe says this gives us a more global perspective. You need to stop thinking in such an old-fashioned way."

Fine. Let them present their "global perspective."

On the day of the pitch.

Chloe was wearing an expensive Chanel suit, radiating confidence.

Liam was dressed to kill, looking like a big shot.

When it was our team's turn, Chloe stood up and began her presentation.

She was passionate, even cracking a few jokes.

But the panel of experts in the audience just kept frowning.

Finally, the lead expert, an older man, cut her off.

"Ms. Vance, could you please explain why, in chapter three, regarding cross-border data transfer compliance, you cited a European Union treaty that was superseded by a new GDPR addendum three months ago?"

Chloe's confident smile vanished.

She just stood there, fumbling through her notes.

"Well it's the standard international approach"

"An approach doesn't override the law," the expert said sternly.

Liam quickly jumped in to save her.

"Sir, our technical architecture is designed to circumvent"

"Circumvent? How can technology circumvent a hard legal requirement? Mr. Carter, your technical logic is a contradiction in terms."

Another expert chimed in.

Liam was sweating bullets.

He looked at me, a desperate plea in his eyes.

I sat in the corner, sipping my water, and said nothing.

In the end, our proposal was rejected on the spot.

It was the company's biggest project of the year, with a projected profit of nearly ten million dollars.

Walking out of the conference room, Kate's face was beyond furious. She had been in the meeting with us.

"Liam, Chloe, I want a full incident report on my desk when we get back to the office,"

Kate's voice was ice.

"Eva, you're riding with me."

I grabbed my bag and followed her without a word.

Liam called after me from behind.

"Eva! You knew, didn't you? Why didn't you say anything?"

I stopped and turned around.

"Liam, first, you're the tech lead, and she's the legal counsel. It's not my place as the project coordinator to second-guess your expertise. Second, I warned you twice, and you told me my thinking was 'old-fashioned.'"

I smiled.

"You two love to innovate so much. Well, now you can enjoy the consequences of your innovation."

Liam slumped onto a bench in the hallway. Chloe buried her face in her hands and started sobbing.

This time, he didn't have the strength to comfort her.

The Last Ticket Stub

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 12:29:07 +0800

After four years together, Elias suddenly suggested we go to City Hall and make it official.

But a week before our appointment, deep inside his camera bag, I found a few perfectly preserved concert ticket stubs.

They were for my favorite indie rock band, a band Elias was always too busy with work to see with me.

I sat on the old leather chair in my study for a long time, clutching those tickets.

I didn't move until the sky outside was completely dark. Then, I finally stood up and called Professor Miller, asking to join the "Alaskan Polar Ecology Expedition" leaving in two weeks.

On the day the bride was supposed to be at City Hall, she was a no-show. And he, apparently, was tearing the world apart looking for me.

Two weeks earlier, after seeing an off-Broadway show with Elias, he casually asked me in the middle of the crowded lobby:

"Harper, what do you say we get married?"

He said it so casually, his eyes still fixed on a movie poster on the theater wall.

I whispered yes.

Elias and I had been together for years. At every Thanksgiving dinner, our relatives would tease us about when we were tying the knot.

I always thought marriage was just a piece of paper.

But when he finally asked, I felt a wave of happiness so strong I thought I would burst.

The next day, I dragged Elias to pick out engagement rings, then made him try on wedding dresses and contact photographers. We were up until three in the morning.

Elias said since we were just signing papers at City Hall, we didn't need to make such a big deal out of it.

But I couldn't help myself. I started creating frantic wedding inspiration boards on Pinterest.

Engagement photos, the reception in Napa Valley, the honeymoon tripDI had printed out dozens of pages of my plans.

Until today, I believed Elias was the man I would spend the rest of my life with.

This afternoon, I wanted to export our photos from the DSLR to make digital invitations, but in the side pocket, my fingers brushed against those old ticket stubs.

I looked through them, one by one. Without exception, they were all for that one band's tours.

They started from Elias's sophomore year of college and went all the way to this year. I couldn't even count how many there were.

The stubs were carefully preserved in plastic sleeves, with words written on the back in permanent marker.

[Sophomore year, Boston. The first time we escaped Earth's gravity together.]

[Senior year, Seattle. You said this was all you needed.]

The most recent one read:

[Maybe this is the last time we'll feel the summer wind.]

So, all these years, he had been going to every single concert with someone else.

And I was the fool who was kept in the dark.

A bitter taste rose in my throat, and my stomach churned.

Elias and I were opposites. He was rational and pragmatic; I was emotional and artistic.

I used to keep all our old train tickets and boarding passes from our trips together in a scrapbook.

But I lost it during one of our moves, and I was heartbroken for a long time.

Elias thought I was ridiculous. He asked why I would keep "worthless scraps of paper," calling it a classic hoarding habit.

After that, I never saved another ticket.

He could never remember the anniversary of when we met. He even got my birthday wrong sometimes.

I always told myself it was just typical guy behavior, that it didn't mean he didn't care about me.

Now, seeing these ticket stubs, always in pairs, I felt like a complete joke.

I suddenly remembered the first time Elias introduced me to his best friend, Josh. When I got up to use the restroom, I overheard Josh ask him, "Are you really over Chloe?"

I heard it, but I didn't ask.

At our age, everyone has a past.

Only now did I remember the dazed look on Elias's face at that moment.

If he was never over her, why the hell did he propose to me?

I took a deep breath, put the tickets back where I found them, and dialed my professor's number.

"Professor Miller, that Alaska project you mentioned are there still any spots left?"

Professor Miller was surprised, but his voice was filled with relief.

"I was just worrying about that! None of the students these days want to suffer on the tundra. It's freezing and completely cut off from the world. But Harper, I thought you were busy planning a wedding?"

"I'm not anymore, Professor. I can go."

The words came out strained, and I was afraid if I said anything more, the tears would start to fall.

After hanging up, I automatically opened my text messages with Elias.

The last time he'd replied to me was three days ago.

A cold calm washed over me.

So for the past few days, while I had been excitedly rambling to him about wedding details, he hadn't even sent back a single emoji.

I opened his Instagram and finally noticed his bio. It was just one sentence:

[Time is a ticket stub in the backlight.]

A sharp pain shot through my chest, and I stumbled.

He had never changed that bio in all the years I'd known him.

I once asked him what it meant, and he said it was just some lyric he'd copied down.

Now I finally understood its real meaning.

His heart had always beaten for her. It never changed.

I dragged a suitcase out of the storage closet and mechanically started throwing in some cold-weather gear from my wardrobe.

I was only halfway done when my phone rang. It was Josh.

"Harper, Elias got in a car accident. You need to come to Harborview Medical Center, now."

In the background, I could faintly hear a soft female voice. "Elias, breathe deep. Don't be scared."

The voice was gentle, but a chill ran down my spine.

Josh hung up immediately.

I went to the bathroom and splashed handfuls of icy water on my face, trying to snap myself out of it.

It took me two hours of driving on I-5 to get to the hospital.

As I approached the door to his room, I could hear people talking inside.

"Thank God Chloe was here today. We were all freaking out. But Chloe, what made you come back from Europe all of a sudden?"

I knocked, and the room fell silent.

Elias was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, his hand gripping another woman's hand tightly.

When Josh saw me, he said softly, "Elias, Harper's here."

But Elias didn't let go of her hand. He just slowly opened his eyes and gave me a cold, indifferent glance.

"Blood so much blood!"

The woman immediately covered his eyes and gently stroked his back. "It's a hallucination, Elias. Don't be scared. I'm here."

Josh looked awkward. He leaned closer to Elias and whispered, "Dude, you don't recognize her? It's Harper."

Then he turned to me and explained, "We were near Mount Rainier and got caught in a storm. The car flipped. When Elias woke up, he kept saying he saw blood everywhere. The doctor said it's retrograde amnesia from the concussion. His memory and vision might be a little mixed up."

"Chloe, can you take me away from here? I'm so scared. There's blood everywhere, and strangers," Elias whispered, tightening his grip around Chloe's waist.

Everyone in the room just shook their heads helplessly.

Chloe patiently soothed him for a while until he finally settled back down, but their hands remained clasped together.

Josh finally introduced us.

"This is Chloe, a friend from high school. She was just back from Berlin on vacation and joined us for a reunion hike. Elias's condition should get better with time. Don't take it personally."

Don't take it personally? I laughed coldly to myself.

Elias chased Chloe for three years in high school, and it was clear to everyone in this room that he never really got over her.

And now, a simple "don't take it personally" was supposed to make me pretend like nothing happened.

Chloe glanced at me, seemingly not paying any attention to Josh's introduction, her gaze quickly returning to Elias's face.

When Josh mentioned that we were about to get married at City Hall, Elias suddenly looked up and asked, "Josh, who are you talking to? Who's getting married?"

My fists clenched, my nails digging deep into my palms.

The concussed Elias remembered Chloe, he remembered Josh, but he had completely forgotten me.

So this was how little I mattered to him. A mark so faint that the slightest jolt could erase it completely.

There was never any room for me in his heart.

"It's getting late, we should probably go. Harper, we'll leave Elias with you," Josh said, giving a look to the others. They all started to leave.

Chloe slowly tried to pull her hand from Elias's. "I'll come see you tomorrow," she said softly.

But Elias grabbed her hand, his face filled with panic. "Are you going to leave me again? Are you just going to fly away? I'm so scared. Can't you just stay with me? Please? Aren't you worried about me at all?"

In that instant, the last wall I had built around my heart crumbled.

Over the years, I had told him countless times that I would always be his rock, that he could lean on me for anything.

But he always said that people need to learn to be independent, that over-reliance on others was a sign of immaturity.

He never showed a single shred of vulnerability in front of me and demanded the same from me.

The time I had the flu with a high fever, I just locked myself in the guest room, found my own Tylenol, boiled my own water, and ordered my own soup for delivery.

At first, I used to fight with him about it, telling him how cold it was. Eventually, I just gave in, assuming it was just his "independent personality."

I thought that was just his nature, that he didn't know how to express dependence.

But today, I finally understood. He just didn't want to depend on me, and he didn't want me to depend on him.

"Okay, I won't go. I'll stay here with you tonight. You just rest, okay?"

Chloe patted his back, gently repositioning his head on the pillow, her eyes full of tenderness.

Everyone's eyes were on me, their expressions a mixture of pity and awkwardness.

Chloe looked at me too, as if asking for my permission.

I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white, my heart twisting in agony.

I stared at the two of them for a long moment, then, for the sake of my own dignity, I finally spoke. "I'll come pick you up tomorrow."

Elias just kept his eyes glued on Chloe, as if afraid she would flutter away like a butterfly. He didn't even spare me a single glance.

The Intouchables

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 12:21:41 +0800

My sister and I were reborn back to the day we were adopted.

My sister, right away, grabbed the arm of the butcher, the guy who adopted me last time, and said, Mister, please, can I be your daughter?

She knew, you see, that in a year, this butcher would become incredibly rich, while the millionaire who adopted her would go bankrupt.

I just laughed.

It was obvious she was trying to steal the successful life Id had before.

What she didn't know was that the butcher's success was because he'd adopted me. Without me, he'd have stayed a butcher his whole life.

So, her little fantasy was busted from day one.

...

Last time around, my sister, Tiffany, and I grew up in the same foster home, pretty much attached at the hip. When we turned seventeen, two couples showed up at the home.

One was a guy named Earl, who ran a butcher shop, and the other was a well-known entrepreneur and his wife, the Caldwells.

Tiffany put on the charm, totally laying it on thick, and got the Caldwells to agree to take her.

When it was my turn, she pushed me out of the way, acting all sweet for the Caldwells, saying, "Daddy, can't you just adopt me? I don't want anyone else taking away my love." Even though I was her older sister.

So, I ended up with Earl the butcher.

But nobody saw what was coming. In two short years, everything flipped. The Caldwells went bust, lost everything, and Tiffany was out on the street.

Meanwhile, Earl, the butcher who I'd gone with, was shooting straight up, and became this major power player in town.

And thanks to his influence, I became a corporate manager, a city council member. People were scared of me.

But Tiffany, being the sneaky type she was, stole company data from me, and when I caught her and she was being hauled off to jail, she just lunged for the steering wheel, kicking and punching the poor driver.

She was yelling, "Lana, you little witch! You just got lucky with a good dad! Why do you have to have everything, I'm not going to let you!" and, "If you're sending me to prison, we're going down together!"

Boom, we crashed through the guardrail, straight into the river. Me and a whole carload of cops. Just like that. Gone.

Then I woke up, and there was Tiffany, grabbing this dude's hand, all cutesy, Oh, please, mister, take me, please! I eat like a bird and Ill be so good, I won't be any trouble at all."

And this dude? That was Earl, the butcher, the guy who'd adopted me.

I couldn't help but laugh. It was so transparent. She was back, all right, and wanted to get to my dad first, to steal the great life I'd had!

Standing next to him was this woman, all designer clothes, looking embarrassed. She said, Honey, we have a lot of money, Ill be really good to you, wouldnt you be happier at our place?

Tiffany reacted like she'd seen a ghost, spitting on the ground. Ugh, you're about to lose it all, what kind of life would that be?

Then she looked up all smiley, putting her hand on Earl's arm. "Mr. Earl, there's something so comfortable about you. You've got this big personality, you're going to be a huge success someday. Please, take me, I'll be a good girl.

I swear, I just wanted to howl. Last time, she was too good for a butcher. Spat in his face, practically. Now she knew he was going to get rich, she's all "Yes sir, whatever you say."

Well, this confirmed to me, I saw Tiffany for who she really was.

Earl, probably never had someone treat him so good. He grabbed her hand with his meaty paw, laughing, Alright! From today on, youre my daughter, Tiffany!

The ladys husband was furious. Shes wishing us bankruptcy? A kid this little with a heart this black? He grabbed his wife, Lets go. We're not adopting anyone!

Tiffany, being clever, suddenly cried, her voice all wobbly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Caldwell, I said something stupid." She shoved me towards him, adding, "Please adopt my sister. She'll make up for it later."

The man was fuming, but his wife had a soft heart. The foster mom, seeing a chance, kept pushing them.

So, they adopted me. They took me home and, after I devoured a big bowl of soup, I called them Mom and Dad.

After dinner, I texted Tiffany: Think youre going to have a good life with my dad, huh?

Her reply popped up immediately: Lana, youre back too? Doesnt matter, Earl adopted me. The Caldwells are going to be begging on the street in a year. You'll be right there with them, hahahaha.

I just chuckled. She has no clue. Earl's success happened because of me. Without me, he's just a butcher till he dies.

Her fantasy was busted from day one.

But Im not going to tell her that. Let her stew for a bit.

The next morning, I told Mr. Caldwell, "Dad, I've admired you for a long time, and I'm really interested in Caldwell Enterprises." "Could I visit the company?"

He just frowned, like he hadnt even heard me, and left for work.

I wasnt worried. If Caldwell Enterprises was going down in three years, there must be issues right now. If I could earn his trust, with my abilities, I could save the company.

For days, I was the perfect daughter, reading finance books, sharing what I learned with Mr. Caldwell.

And with my mom, I gave it my all. Getting her milk in the morning, learning her favorite recipes. I guess, because I never had family, I was desperate to be loved. Even when they didn't really respond to me, I didn't lose hope.

But then Tiffany showed up with a recording, and it destroyed my little dream.

It had Mr. Caldwells voice, sounding cold: "I feel like we adopted a viper. I'm not even dead, and shes thinking about running Caldwell Enterprises. She just goes on and on about Warren Buffet. I don't even understand half of those finance books, and she's acting like she knows everything.

"Lets look at terminating her adoption in a few years. We just adopted her to look good to the public.

Then there was static, and then Mrs. Caldwells voice, talking to Tiffany.

"Sweetie, your sister's so gloomy, while you're like a little ray of sunshine. I wish we adopted you. When she makes me food, I have the maid toss it, I'm scared shes going to poison me.

After the recording, Tiffany looked at me, all smug. "Lana, your parents don't like you. Last time, they loved me. They were working to earn tuition, even when they were broke. Youre just not very likable.

So that's why Tiffany had been so calm lately. She had been sucking up to my folks.

I could see she was wearing fancy new clothes. Earl was just a butcher, so there was no way he could pay for that.

She was getting money from Mrs. Caldwell.

I quietly hit record on my phone, playing it cool. You like my parents so much? We could trade.

Tiffany screeched, "That old bag? She's got such a sour face. Id never be her daughter. And her husband? He thinks he's a big deal with his big money, but last time, he was sucking up to Earl all the time."

Tiffany went on a rant, insulting everyone. Once she was done, I waved my phone around, showing her it was recording. I sent it to Mrs. Caldwell, as Tiffany watched in horror.

Tiffany tried to grab my phone, but her phone suddenly buzzed. She looked like shed seen a ghost. She glared at me, but hung up.

She can hang up her phone, but she couldnt stop me from calling Mrs. Caldwell.

Hi, Mom, I said. Tiffanys here with me. Ill put her on.

I shoved the phone at her, with Tiffany looking pale. Mrs. Caldwells voice was as cold as a judges verdict: "Tiffany, I thought you were just making jokes at the foster home, so I let it go. I even felt sorry for you with that butcher, so I bought you clothes and treats.

But youre just a mean kid. Don't contact me again.

She hung up. Tiffany started frantically texting Mrs. Caldwell, her face turning green as she stared at her screen. She was blocked.

When I got home, Mrs. Caldwell was there, and she had a bowl of hot soup for me. Mr. Caldwell was reading on the couch, looking at me like he actually cared.

After I finished my soup, he said, Lana, you can visit my company next weekend. You always wanted to, right? When you graduate, Ill get you a job, a manager position or something, whatever you want."

I looked up from my bowl, and gave him a real smile for the first time.

Oh, no need Dad, Im busy this weekend.

Whether they go bankrupt or not? Not my problem.

Back at school, Tiffany looked like she wanted to murder me. She could glare at me all she wanted, but I kept my head up and studied.

When Earl adopted me, he made me quit school to help him. I resisted, but he slapped me so hard, I never resisted again.

I had to work at the slaughterhouse, hauling meat and walking through pig manure. I came home smelling like, well, you can imagine. I was exhausted.

At night, I'd see Tiffany's posts, her designer bags, fancy dinners, trips abroad. I always wondered how it was like, to have a life like hers.

The first time I touched a book again, the pages smelled so good it brought tears to my eyes.

After class, Tiffany was surrounded by a group of her friends, all with dyed hair. She made friends with these lowlifes last time, and shed already gotten in with them again.

Whatever. Not my problem.

I had a massive headache after class, so I went to the restroom.

I was in a stall for a while. Then it got quiet outside. When I opened the door to wash my hands, there were Tiffanys little friends, standing there, arms crossed, looking hostile.

Before I could register what was happening, I got shoved against the wall. They started punching and kicking me.

Finally, I heard Tiffany yell, "Stop!"

She grabbed my hair, forcing me to look up at her. "How did Earl get rich? What happened? Tell me!"

"If you don't, theyll start up again!"

I looked at Tiffany, so stressed out, with all my bruises, and I suddenly felt calm.

Shed only been with Earl for a month, and she couldnt handle the bad life. Thats why she was trying to force me.

Fine. Ill tell you. I said.

On the fifteenth of next month, at midnight, Earl will be walking down the street behind the school.

If you follow him, youll find out how he got rich."

Tiffany frowned. "Does Earl drink? He never drinks when hes with me."

Really? I asked.

Yeah. He comes home from work at nine and makes me a snack, warms up my milk, and tells me to go to bed early."

Really? Last time, Earl was a raging drunk. He beat me, and he made me work for him. My life with him was hell.

I looked at her beautiful face, and said, He treats you so well, and youre still not happy?

She slapped me, hard. "Shut up.

What if he doesnt go out?

My last bit of compassion was gone. Then, get him drunk and take him there yourself. Then you'll get rich.