He dared to call it a pure childhood friendship. Only a fool would believe that. Tiffany’s eyes were still red from her crocodile tears as she looked at me with feigned innocence.

“Half-Summer Sister, please don’t get a divorce because of me and Damon. That would make me feel like a homewrecker.” She sniffled and added softly, “If you really don’t want me here, I’ll move out today…”

She made a show of standing up, pretending to go pack her things. But before she could take more than two steps, Damon stopped her without hesitation.

“Tiffany, ignore her. Just stay and be comfortable here.” His voice was gentle, doting.

“You’re not married and there’s no one to look after you. What if you fall sick again like last time with morning sickness?”

The pity in his eyes wasn’t for her. It was for me. As if I were some pitiful, bitter joke.

I turned away, walked to the bathroom. And the moment I pushed open the door, splash!

A bucket of icy cold water drenched me from head to toe.

Laughter erupted outside.

“Haha! I knew Elena would fall for it!” Damon was bent over, laughing so hard he could barely stand.

“Elena, look at yourself—you’re so stupid!”

Only then did I realize someone had balanced a basin full of water on the bathroom door waiting for me. Tiffany, her red eyes still wet from her earlier tears, was now laughing so hard that new ones streamed down her cheeks.

“Half-Summer Sister, don’t be mad,” she giggled. “Damon noticed you’ve been in a bad mood lately, so he thought this would cheer you up. You’re not seriously going to get angry again over something so small, are you?”

I clenched my fists so tightly, my nails dug into my palms. The humiliation was unbearable shattering what little pride I had left.

Damon’s smile faltered when he saw my red-rimmed eyes. Realizing he’d gone too far, he approached me with a nervous expression.

“Elena, don’t cry.” He held out a tissue awkwardly. “You used to be able to take a joke. It’s just a bit of water. Go change your clothes.”

The more he spoke, the harder my tears fell. Panicked, Damon reached out to hug me. I stepped back, curling my lips coldly.

“Damon, don’t touch me. You disgust me.”

His face darkened. “What did you say?” Anger flickered in his eyes.

“Say that again? I’ve already told you, Tiffany and I are innocent!”

“She doesn’t even believe in marriage,” he added desperately, “She’s a non-marriage advocate!”

I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Innocent?” I spat. “If she’s so against marriage, why did she borrow your sperm to have a baby instead of anyone else’s? Can you explain that, Damon?”

I’d had enough of his lies. “If you’re really innocent, then go tell her to abort the baby. Do that and I’ll believe you.”

His face turned ghostly pale. Rage and shame twisted his features. “Elena, stop being unreasonable!”

“I told you this child is Tiffany’s. It has nothing to do with me. I have no right to interfere in her decision!”

Suddenly, Tiffany dropped to her knees in front of me, her face a portrait of panic.

“Elena, I went through so much just to conceive this child. She’s my life. Please don’t be so cruel…”

Her shoulders trembled as she sobbed, looking utterly pitiful. To anyone watching, it would seem like I was the heartless villain.

“Enough!”

Damon lost patience and scooped her up in his arms.

“You just don’t want to give up the room, do you? Fine, we’ll leave. I’ll take Tiffany somewhere else.”

He shot me one last, icy glare before the door slammed shut behind him.

The sound of their retreating footsteps echoed through the silence. I stared at the disheveled room.

Then, as if all the strength drained from my body, I collapsed onto the floor.

When I finally pulled myself together, the first thing I did was take down our wedding photo from the wall. Without hesitation, I shredded it to pieces with a pair of scissors.

This relationship had been built on nothing but lies, betrayal and humiliation. It was time to let it burn.

At midnight, Tiffany sent me a string of photos each more provocative than the last.

Every shot was carefully curated: the seaside villa, the candlelit dinner, her coy smile and Damon’s familiar figure beside her under warm golden lights.

They looked so close, so intimate, that anyone would assume they'd already slept together. I didn’t bother looking through them all. Instead, I forwarded the whole batch to Damon.

Two minutes later, he exploded in my inbox.

“I told you we’re just friends. Can’t friends have dinner together?”

“Elena, being married to you is suffocating!”

“Suffocating? Is it me who’s suffocating you, or are you just angry you got caught crossing the line?”

Right then, Leo messaged me: [Wait for me. I’ll complete the task within three days.]

I replied with a simple OK, my head spinning, heavy with fever and emotion. Sleep took me before I knew it.

The next morning, my phone buzzed nonstop. It was another message from Damon left sometime during the night:

[I was too harsh. Don’t take it to heart.]

[Tiffany is just a friend. You’re my wife. How could you even compare yourself to her?]

[Be good. Come back home.]

I didn’t bother replying. I deleted the messages and blocked his number without hesitation. I forced myself to eat some breakfast, but every bite tasted like ash.

When I took my temperature, the thermometer read 39°C, a high fever. I dragged myself to the hospital to get medicine.

As I was standing at the payment counter, a sudden commotion erupted nearby.

“Doctor, please! Save my girlfriend first, she’s pregnant!”

The voice struck me like a bolt of electricity. Familiar. Urgent.

I turned slowly and there he was. Damon, disheveled and wild-eyed, rushing into the ER with Tiffany in his arms. His shirt was half-open, hair a tangled mess like a bird’s nest.

He looked like a man in total panic.

The receptionist told me the payment system was down and asked me to wait. So I sat on a bench in the corridor and overheard the nurses gossiping nearby.

“Did you see that girl just now?”

“I heard she and her boyfriend stuck a lightbulb inside her… can you believe that?”

“These young people are insane, nothing is off-limits anymore!”

I felt nauseated literally. I clutched my stomach and almost vomited. When the staff finally told me I could check out, I paid as fast as I could. All I wanted was to get away.

But just as I turned to leave, our eyes met. Damon froze in place, his face draining of color.

“Elena? You… why are you here?”

I said nothing. I turned and kept walking. But he rushed after me and grabbed my wrist, his tone sharp and accusing.

“Did you follow me here just to humiliate me?”

“Have you been spying on me this whole time?” He even pulled out his phone to check it, muttering darkly.

“I knew it. You must’ve installed some kind of eavesdropping app…”

I yanked my hand free. “Stop flattering yourself.”

His movement knocked the medicine from my grasp. The bottle clattered to the ground and he glanced down—his expression shifting.

“Fever meds?”

“Elena… you have a fever? Why didn’t you tell me?” He reached out, trying to feel my forehead, but I pushed him away coldly.

“Aren’t you busy playing house with Tiffany? My health is none of your concern.”

Damon exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples.

“You’ve misunderstood. I told you, Tiffany and I are just...”

Before he could finish, a nurse called from the ER, “Who’s the family member of Tiffany?” Without thinking, Damon replied, “I am!”

That one sentence cut deeper than anything else. I smiled bitterly, a twisted sort of resignation curling at my lips.

Still trying to play both sides. As if to make things better, he shoved a small gift box into my hands.

“This is for you. I got it to apologize. Please take it… I’ll come find you once I’m done here.”

I stared down at the box, then at the man who used to be my husband. He was already turning away.

And I realized whatever was left of “us” had already crumbled.

After saying those words, he disappeared.

I stood silently at the hospital entrance, the sun behind me casting a long shadow. Inside, I could still see Damon fussing around Tiffany’s bedside like a devoted lover.

I lowered my gaze and opened the gift box he had hurriedly thrust into my hands. Inside was a turquoise bracelet. Cheap. The kind of trinket you could buy at a roadside stall for a few dozen yuan.

Even now, he hadn’t changed. Still pretending. Still trying to placate me with meaningless things like I was someone easily dismissed. I shook my head, not in anger, but in quiet disappointment.

I tossed the box into the trash without a second glance and walked away from the hospital. Just as I stepped off the curb to hail a taxi, I heard two short honks behind me.

A sleek car pulled up and the window rolled down to reveal Leo’s effortlessly striking face. He smiled, the kind of smile that warmed the air around him.

“Get in,” he said simply.

Inside the car, he handed me a divorce agreement. Damon’s name was already signed.

Surprised, I asked, “How did you pull this off?”

Leo gave me a mischievous grin. “Take a guess.”

Then, seeing the disbelief in my eyes, he quickly added, “I slipped the divorce papers into a stack of work documents and told him it was a routine contract. He didn’t even read it before signing.”

He said it with caution, almost like he didn’t want to scare me off. Then he looked at me seriously.

“You said you'd marry me after this… does that still stand?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

I looked out the window, feeling a strange sense of peace. “After being so stubborn all these years… it’s time I went home.”

Years ago, I had a terrible falling out with my family over marrying Damon, a poor man with nothing to his name. I was young, reckless and thought love was enough.

But time changes people. My parents had aged. They had messaged me many times, begging me to visit. They even said they no longer cared about my marriage to Damon that I could bring him home if I wanted.

But before I ever got the chance to tell him I was the daughter of the Whitmore family, the wealthiest family in Chicago, he had already gotten Tiffany pregnant. There was no point in explaining anything anymore.

I sold the small apartment I had lived in for the past three years.

Leo helped me list it on a second-hand housing site, shaking his head in admiration.

“I can't believe Miss Whitmore managed to endure in a place this small for three years.”

I rolled my eyes and playfully smacked his arm. “Cut the sarcasm. Just sell it within two days, we’re going to Bali in three.”

Leo lit up with joy. After all, our wedding was going to be held in Bali.

He had already showered me with gifts, antique paintings, designer handbags, luxury items, calling them my “dowry.”

I was just about to have the driver take me back to my villa when suddenly, a black car sped toward me from behind.

I instinctively stepped aside, but Damon rushed over and shoved me out of the way just in time. He frowned deeply, his tone sharp.

“Elena, are you blind? Didn’t you see that car coming? If I’d been a second late, you would’ve been hit!”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t owe him anything anymore.

Then Tiffany came running over, her voice saccharine and full of fake guilt.

“Elena, I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize you from behind. I didn’t mean to almost hit you…” She glanced over at the luxury car behind us and suddenly smirked.

“Elena, I know you’re jealous of me for having luxury goods. But honestly, even if you’re envious, there’s no need to buy fakes, right?”

Her eyes sparkled with malice. “Everyone knows you're broke. You can’t even afford a real designer bag, yet here you are, parading around with all these counterfeits...”

She covered her mouth and giggled and a few passersby cast mocking glances my way. I shot her a cold look.

“Not everyone depends on a man to afford nice things. Unlike you, I already had them.”

Damon scoffed beside her. “Elena, stop pretending. We were married for three years. I know exactly what kind of life you lived. You think I can’t tell a fake from the real thing?”

He reached out and casually picked up one of the antique vases in the car trunk, planning to make a point, but then he froze.

“This… this is real?” His tone shifted, disbelief creeping in.

I calmly pushed him aside and shut the trunk. He stared at me, suspicion growing in his eyes.

As if, for the first time, he was realizing, He had never really known who I was.