Evelyn’s past had shaped her rebellious streak. She had grown strong, fiercely independent and stubborn to a fault. Her reasoning was simple: if even her own parents had abandoned her, how could she possibly expect goodness from anyone else?

That was, until she met Christopher.

The day they met was etched into her memory—a moment both humiliating and life-changing.

She had been grabbed by a group of angry strangers, accusing her of being a mistress. The crowd around her jeered, their judgmental whispers cutting like knives. No one listened to her frantic protests that she didn’t even know these people. No one stepped in to help.

Then, like a figure descending from the heavens, Christopher had intervened.

He pulled Evelyn out of the mob, his deep, calm voice cutting through the chaos like a balm. His words were firm, authoritative and laced with an unshakable confidence, “I’m her husband. Who are you? Let go of her, or I’ll call the police.”

Just like that, he had saved her.

As the mob dispersed, Evelyn shoved herself away from him, her pride as bruised as her arms. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the only money she had left—a single crumpled hundred-dollar bill—and thrust it toward him. Her distrust of people dripped from every syllable.

“Thanks for saving me. This is all I’ve got. Is it enough? If not, I’ll find a job and pay the rest later.”

Christopher had looked at the wrinkled bill, his lips quirking into an amused smirk. He should’ve walked away, but instead, he lingered, something about her defiance intriguing him.

“Well,” he said, “as it happens, my company’s looking for a clerk. Interested?”

Evelyn frowned suspiciously, snatching the bill back. “You’re not part of some scam, are you? Pretend to save me, then trick me into something worse?”

Christopher blinked, momentarily stunned. “...You’re unbelievable.”

In the end, with nowhere else to go, Evelyn followed him.

What began as an arrangement of necessity gradually blossomed into something deeper.

At first, Christopher admired her tenacity. Maybe it was because she was so different from the women in his world—particularly Charlotte. Evelyn’s fiery independence and unpolished honesty were a stark contrast to Charlotte’s delicate, polished demeanor.

For three years, their relationship was blissful. They were inseparable and for the first time in her life, Evelyn felt like the world wasn’t entirely against her.

But then Charlotte returned.

Fresh from her studies abroad, Charlotte re-entered Christopher’s life with all the subtlety of a hurricane. Her presence disrupted the fragile balance Evelyn and Christopher had built.

It was around this time that Christopher’s feelings began to shift.

At first, he appreciated Evelyn’s stubbornness, her refusal to conform. But then he began to see it as a flaw—a flaw he wanted to fix.

“You can’t keep acting like this. You need to change.”

“Evelyn, why can’t you be more like Charlotte? Do you always have to be so difficult?”

“There’s only so much patience a person has. Don’t test mine.”

Evelyn loved Christopher deeply, but she wasn’t naive. She knew love wasn’t permanent. Her parents’ love for her had faded; why wouldn’t Christopher’s?

So, she began changing—bit by bit, piece by piece—molding herself into the version of Evelyn that Christopher seemed to want.

She hid her temper, bit her tongue and tried to be as poised and agreeable as Charlotte.

But the more she changed, the less of herself remained. Depression crept in and soon, Evelyn was a shadow of the person she used to be. She spoke less, smiled rarely and lost interest in everything.

And yet, it still wasn’t enough for Christopher.

Now, as snowflakes tumbled from the sky, Evelyn knelt in the courtyard, her body trembling from the cold. The icy flakes melted on her cheeks and trickled down her neck, but she didn’t move.

Through the windows of the villa, warm light spilled out, accompanied by the sound of laughter. Christopher and Charlotte’s voices mingled inside, their laughter ringing clear as they talked about something amusing.

Human instinct craved warmth and light, but Evelyn only bowed her head lower. Her legs had gone numb long ago, but the faint smile on her lips was bitter and indifferent.

None of it mattered.

A month from now, she would be on the operating table, her life hanging by a thread. She had already decided that if she didn’t make it, so be it.

Warmth, love, health, life—it all seemed so pointless.

Later that night, after the birthday celebration, Christopher drove Charlotte home.

As he passed the courtyard, he saw Evelyn, still kneeling in the snow. She didn’t lift her head to look at him, her figure a motionless silhouette against the white backdrop.

Christopher hesitated for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. He climbed into his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly, annoyance flickering in his chest.

He didn’t know why he felt that way, but it bothered him.

Breaking the silence, he glanced at Charlotte and asked, “Do you think I’m... too harsh on her?”

“How’s the surgery coming along? Did they find a donor?” Charlotte asked, her tone light and cheerful.

Her smile brightened as she added, “Oh, I was just about to tell you—Mother sent word. It’s all settled. The donor is from Cedar Creek and the surgery is scheduled for the end of the month. The paperwork’s already signed.”

Christopher gave a small nod. “Be sure to thank them. This surgery is risky—you could still die on the operating table.”

Charlotte frowned, brushing the concern aside with a casual wave. “There’s no need. Mother mentioned the donor insisted on staying anonymous. Apparently, they didn’t want to meet me and even refused the money we offered.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile as she added, “From what Mother said, the donor has been dealing with depression for a long time—didn’t want to live anymore. It took a lot of convincing for them to agree. Let’s not bother them unnecessarily.”

Charlotte’s emotions were a whirlwind that day—disheartened by Christopher’s persistent concern for Evelyn, yet buoyed by the news of her impending heart transplant. Despite her outward composure, unease lingered.

Someone willing to give up their heart so easily, choosing to remain anonymous… Why?

What if reaching out to thank them caused them to change their mind? The thought alone sent a chill through her.

Besides, her family had already offered payment and the donor had refused. If the donor no longer valued their life, perhaps they viewed this as a form of gratitude to themselves.

Christopher’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Alright. Handle it as you see fit.”

Charlotte exhaled in relief, her tense shoulders relaxing. She gave him a soft, bashful smile. “Chris, you said you’d grant me any birthday wish this year. About the wish I just made…”

“No.”

He cut her off sharply before she could finish.

Her smile faltered and she noticed the shift in his expression. His eyes had opened, cold and unyielding, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

“I won’t leave Evelyn. Don’t bring it up again, Charlotte. I’ll grant you anything else, but not this.”

For a moment, Charlotte sat frozen, the rejection sinking in. The corners of her lips twitched awkwardly, but she quickly recovered, masking her disappointment with her usual charm.

Disguising her true feelings had become second nature—she knew exactly how to present herself as the woman Christopher admired.

Two seconds later, she giggled lightly, as though his stern words had rolled right off her. “Alright, then let’s pretend I didn’t make that wish. But if that one doesn’t count, you still owe me a wish for later, okay? You’ll have to agree to one condition in the future!”

Her playful tone was enough to make Christopher chuckle. “Fine. Save it for later.”

Satisfied, Charlotte straightened up, choosing not to press the issue further.

But inside, resentment burned hotter than ever, simmering beneath her polished facade.

This was the first time Christopher had denied her anything—and it was because of that woman, Evelyn, who had only entered their lives five years ago.

In the past, Christopher had entertained other women in his life, but none of them had ever mattered. Charlotte had always been his priority, his constant. If she’d asked him to end things with someone, he wouldn’t have hesitated.

Why was Evelyn different? What made her so special?

If Charlotte hadn’t left for her studies abroad, Evelyn would never have had the chance to worm her way into Christopher’s life.

But no matter. Soon, Charlotte’s health would be restored and time would be on her side. She had no intention of losing to Evelyn.

***

Later that night, when Christopher returned home, he found Evelyn still kneeling in the snow.

Her body trembled from the cold and snowflakes had piled onto her shoulders, forming a thick, undisturbed layer. She hadn’t even bothered to brush them off.

Christopher stood there for a moment, watching her silently. The sight of her like this stirred something unnameable within him—frustration, concern, perhaps guilt.

Finally, he walked toward her and broke the silence.

“Do you know what you did wrong?”

Evelyn’s eyelashes quivered as the frost clinging to them glinted faintly in the moonlight. The icy crust masked most of the emotions in her eyes, leaving her expression unreadable.

Evelyn lifted her head slowly, her voice barely above a whisper, hoarse and broken,

“Chris, my knees hurt.”

Her words hung in the icy air, fragile yet defiant.

Christopher let out a soft sigh, the kind that spoke of exasperation laced with resignation. He crossed his arms, visibly trying to rein in his temper.

“Evelyn, you know Charlotte and I grew up together. I’ve always been close to her and I care about her like family. That’s not something you can just change.”

He paused, searching her face for understanding, then continued, “I know you don’t like her, but you can’t lash out at her like that. She’s not in good health—her heart condition makes things worse. She can’t handle the stress.”

Christopher felt as though he was being more than fair, speaking to Evelyn with patience despite his frustration. To him, this was her chance to reflect and apologize.

If she just took responsibility, he might be willing to forgive her.

But instead, Evelyn repeated the same words, her voice softer this time,

“Chris… my knees hurt. I can’t kneel anymore.”

His patience snapped.

The calm facade melted away as his brows furrowed and anger darkened his gaze.

“Don’t act like you haven’t knelt before. You’ve been through this and come out fine. So why now? Why pretend you’re in pain after just one night?”

His voice grew sharper, harsher. “I didn’t save you or stand by you just so you could throw tantrums. Stop pushing your luck, Evelyn.”

A bitter laugh echoed in Evelyn’s mind, though her face betrayed no emotion. She had known this would happen. She had known he wouldn’t care—wouldn’t believe her.

Once, Christopher had always been the one to shield her. When he’d made her kneel in the past, it had been more for show than punishment. The moment she’d looked truly pained, he would falter, his heart softening enough to pull her back to safety.

It hadn’t taken her long to learn the rules. Back then, she could feign discomfort and he would carry her back inside, guilt etched on his face.

But this time was different.

Yesterday, everything had changed.

Evelyn and Charlotte had fought—words sharp enough to cut, leaving deep wounds. Charlotte had hurled cruel insults, accusing Evelyn of being manipulative, of worming her way into Christopher’s life and ruining their bond.

“You’re just like your mother,” Charlotte had sneered. “Pathetic, unwanted. No wonder your father left her—and you.”

Evelyn couldn’t hold back. Years of life on her own had given her a sharp tongue and she let loose with biting retorts that left Charlotte visibly shaken.

But then Charlotte had done the unthinkable. With a shove, she’d sent Evelyn tumbling down the staircase, leaving her knee bruised and swollen.

And, as if on cue, Charlotte had played the victim perfectly. The moment Christopher appeared, she clutched her chest, gasping, feigning a heart episode.

“She attacked me,” Charlotte had cried, her voice trembling.

Christopher hadn’t even looked at Evelyn before sweeping Charlotte into his arms and rushing her to the hospital.

Hours later, Evelyn had spent what little energy she had dragging herself to a clinic. The doctor’s words had been blunt: a hairline fracture in her knee. Rest and hospitalization were recommended. But Evelyn had refused, swallowing painkillers instead.

Now, after kneeling in the snow for hours, the pain had reached unbearable levels, radiating up her leg and threatening to consume her.

Christopher didn’t know any of this. He only saw her silence, interpreting it as stubbornness. His frustration mounted.

“I’ve been too lenient with you,” he finally said, his voice low but cutting. “But this time, Evelyn, I won’t let it slide.”

With that, he turned and walked into the house, leaving her alone in the biting cold.

Evelyn tilted her head back, staring at the sky as snowflakes continued to fall, their icy edges slicing into her skin like tiny knives.

The wind howled, relentless, tugging at her hair and clothes. Her lips quirked upward in a faint, bitter smile.

“You haven’t been soft on me for a long time, Chris,” she murmured.

***

When Charlotte arrived the next morning, Evelyn was still there—kneeling in the same spot, her body almost entirely buried in snow.

Charlotte snorted derisively, a cruel smile spreading across her face. “This is what happens when you cross me,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. “So what if you’re Chris’s girlfriend? He’ll always put me first.”

Evelyn didn’t respond. Her lips were pale, her body swaying unsteadily, barely holding itself upright.

Charlotte adjusted her coat, brushing past Evelyn with deliberate force, causing her to stumble to the side.

Once inside, Charlotte shrugged off her coat and hung it neatly by the door. Her mood lightened as she spotted Christopher seated on the sofa, engrossed in a discussion with his assistant, who held a tablet and gestured animatedly.

Charlotte approached with a casual grace, her eyes glinting with anticipation.