Five years ago, Warren’s career reached its peak—his moment of glory.

And for his success, I didn’t hesitate. I agreed to undergo artificial cornea implantation surgery.

But the surgery was far from perfect. The artificial cornea was still an experimental technology, flawed and unreliable. No one could guarantee the results.

I was little more than a test subject. The materials used were cheap, and now, after years of wear, my vision was failing. Everything before me was a blur—I could barely make out shapes, let alone faces.

Blindly, I reached down, fumbling for the check. When my fingers found it, I let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh before making my way to the payment counter.

But when I tried to cash it, I was met with cold indifference.

"The check is invalid. It can't be processed."

For a moment, I stood there in stunned silence. Then, almost instinctively, my thoughts drifted back to Warren.

When we broke up, I made sure he hated me. I sneered at his gaming dreams, mocked his future, and told him I wanted nothing to do with someone who couldn’t even see the path ahead.

I walked away without looking back.

The boy who never cried—no matter how hard life was, no matter how exhausted he became—fell to his knees that day, begging me to stay.

But I knew the truth.

We had loved each other too deeply, and I couldn’t bear for him to suffer, not even for a second. If I stayed, he would have found out about the cornea transplant. He would have worried, taken care of me, sacrificed his dreams.

I didn’t want to be the reason he was held back.

So I left.

Even if it meant being hated. Even if it meant never being forgiven.

Fortunately, he achieved his dream.

My thoughts snapped back to reality. Just as I was about to leave, Belinda appeared beside me, holding a medical report. Her eyes widened in surprise upon seeing me, but then, with a smug smile, she shook the pregnancy test results in my face, flaunting them like a trophy.

"See this? If you have any shame left, don’t ever appear in front of Warren again."

I had no intention of engaging with her. Without a word, I stepped past her.

But the next moment, she lunged forward, crashing to the ground with a dramatic gasp. Panic filled her voice as she clutched her stomach.

"My child! Ivy, how could you be so cruel? I know it upsets you that I’m pregnant with Warren’s baby, but the child is innocent!"

I froze.

Before I could even process her act, a sharp slap landed across my face.

The force was staggering, sending me a step backward. My ears rang, and my skin stung.

Warren stood before me, his eyes burning with anger and disappointment.

"Ivy, I never thought you’d stoop this low!"

Belinda whimpered, and I watched as he gently helped her up, his touch filled with concern.

It was in that moment that everything became painfully clear.

"Warren, after all these years, do you really believe I would do this?"

His expression remained cold, unmoved.

"If it wasn’t you, then what? Are you saying Belinda fell on her own and framed you?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "I thought maybe you had your reasons, maybe you were struggling—but first, you beg for money, and now you hurt people? How could you be so heartless?"

A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. After everything, was this truly how he saw me?

"It's okay, Warren," Belinda said weakly, clutching her stomach. "I don’t blame her… Fortunately, the baby is fine. But I—I feel a little uncomfortable. Let’s see a doctor, just in case."

"Of course. Let’s go."

Without sparing me another glance, he carefully supported her as they walked away.

I watched them disappear down the hall, my vision blurring—not just from my failing eyesight, but from something far deeper.

This time, I truly wanted to give up.

He was doing better, moving forward with his life. Maybe it was time for me to stop holding onto the past. Maybe I could finally accept the darkness.

But life has a way of forcing you to start over just when you’re ready to surrender.

That evening, while I rested in my small rental room, a loud knock startled me awake.

The landlady stood at the door, arms crossed, holding a roll of bills.

"Two thousand. Pay up."

I swallowed hard. I had spent every last cent on medical expenses. There was nothing left.

She studied me for a moment, then sighed.

"I’ll arrange a job for you," she said finally. "Work hard, and you’ll find a way forward."

The job she found was audio editing. She knew about my worsening eyesight and chose something I could manage—something that relied only on sound.

At that moment, I wanted to thank her.

She didn’t say much, only reminded the others to look after me.

But fate wasn’t done with me yet.

Because that was when I met Warren again.

Since I had little experience with audio editing, they assigned someone to guide me. For now, I would work as an assistant, learning as I went.

But the moment I heard his voice in the background, I froze.

Warren.

A conversation played through my headset—someone was coordinating with him about the music for their wedding.

My fingers tightened around the controls.

At that moment, I was asked to turn on the speakers. Shaking off my thoughts, I followed the instructions.

But things didn’t go as planned.

A sudden malfunction sent the sound blasting through the entire room, loud and jarring. Everyone flinched as the distorted audio filled the space.

I scrambled to turn it off, heart pounding.

When the noise finally stopped, I looked up—only to see them standing at the door.

Warren. Belinda.

For some reason, my vision sharpened at that moment, bringing everything into painful clarity.

Belinda's lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming with open malice.

"Well, if it isn’t my dear ex-girlfriend. Why do you keep haunting us?"

Beside her, Warren’s expression darkened.

"Ivy," he said coldly, "isn’t it a little pathetic to keep following me around for money?"

A lump formed in my throat.

Even if I denied everything, would anyone believe me?

Whispers rippled through the room, murmurs of curiosity and judgment.

"Wait… isn't she the ex-girlfriend of the e-sports champion?"

"I heard she dumped him because she chased after wealth and abandoned the poor. Now she probably regrets it and is trying to crawl back for forgiveness."

"This kind of woman is disgusting. Good thing the Great God saw through her sooner rather than later."

Their words pierced through me, but I didn’t respond. My silence only served as confirmation in their eyes, fueling their righteous contempt.

Belinda sauntered over, her smirk widening as she grabbed my face and shoved it away with a sneer.

"She’s that desperate for money, Warren. How about we give her a chance?" She turned to him, feigning innocence. "Let her kneel down and kowtow to me. After all, she ruined our wedding ceremony."

She ran a delicate hand over her stomach, where no baby bump was visible.

"And just now, she even scared our baby."

At that, Warren’s hands curled into fists. For a fleeting second, hesitation flickered in his eyes. But then, as if shaking off doubt, he loosened his grip and gazed at Belinda with tender devotion.

"It's okay," he murmured, "as long as it makes you happy."

Belinda beamed, her delight unmistakable.

She reached into her bag, pulled out a stack of cash, and waved it in front of me.

"You need money, don’t you? Then kneel. Bow deeply, beg a few times, and I’ll give you tens of thousands. How about that?"

I lifted my gaze toward Warren, searching for something—anything—in his expression. But his eyes were fixed solely on Belinda.

At that moment, something inside me shattered.

So this is what you want?

Fine. I’ll give you exactly what you want.

Without hesitation, I sank to my knees.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Warren stiffen, his body instinctively shifting forward—but just as quickly, he stopped himself.

I bowed my head and knocked it against the floor, once, twice, again and again.

It still wasn’t enough for Belinda.

She clicked her tongue in dissatisfaction before digging the sharp heel of her shoe onto my fingers. Pain shot up my arm, but she only scoffed.

"Are you starving or something? Bow harder!"

So I did.

The dull thuds of my forehead meeting the ground grew heavier, my vision blurring. A warm trickle slid down my face—blood.

And still, she laughed.

"Enough."

Warren’s voice cut through the room. "Revenge is revenge, but does it really have to be this cruel?"

Before I could process anything, strong hands yanked me up. It was my landlady, arriving too late to stop it but just in time to witness the aftermath.

She looked furious.

"I told you to come here to work, not to kneel and treat these people like they’re your ancestors!" She turned on Warren, her voice sharp with disdain.

"Mr. Cline," she spat his name, "do you even know that Ivy donated her cornea to you five years ago? That’s why she has to rely on an artificial one now. She loses her vision constantly—because of you.

"And this… this is how you repay her?"