After recovering his memories and resuming his life as the scion of an Old Money dynasty, everyone assumed Julian Sterling would divorce me. Now, a single cufflink on his wrist is worth millions. And I, holding our daughter’s hand, am just the "shampoo girl from the trailer park" in the eyes of his elite friends. We look like we belong to different species. But the man looked at me with indifferent eyes and said only, "Stay by my side." I thought our marriage still counted. I thought I was still his lawful wife. Later, news of his engagement to an heiress spread through the entire Upper East Side. As for me, he said with certainty: "Nora is still here. She won't leave." I simply smoothed the hem of my dress and went to his mother: "I want to leave." Later, I went south alone. I didn't take the child. I didn't take him. 1 "Mommy, is Daddy going to marry someone else?" When Sunny asked this, the spoon in my hand clinked against the porcelain bowl. I turned around to meet her innocent, confused eyes, filled with layers of grievance. I stroked her hair, instinctively forcing a laugh. "How could Daddy marry someone else? Where did you hear such nonsense?" She picked at her fingers, her small mouth trembling. "Ms. Higgins said it. She also said... Sunny is a bastard child. Mommy, what is a bastard child?" A child's voice is crisp and sweet, but those words hit my chest like a sledgehammer. I didn't have time to think. I just hugged her tight, comforting her, but mostly trying to keep myself sane. "Sunny will always be Daddy and Mommy's treasure. Ms. Higgins is just... sick lately." I tapped her nose with a smile. "You know how people get confused when they're sick, right?" She pursed her lips and smiled a little, scrunching her nose. "Confused heads talk nonsense." I smiled back. "Exactly. You're so smart." The little girl hugged her stuffed rabbit and rested her head on my hand. "Mommy, don't be sad." My palm burned. My eyes stung. It took everything I had not to cry at her clumsy attempt to comfort me. I stared at her, my gaze moving from her face to the stuffed rabbit in her arms. The rabbit was grey and plain, with droopy ears. It looked like nothing special, but it cost $12,000. She had a room full of toys like this. Who would have thought that a year ago, the best we could give her was a $10 toy from Walmart? The room was carpeted with plush wool, silencing my footsteps. I no longer needed to tiptoe out of her room like I used to in our thin-walled trailer. Ms. Higgins was the nanny Julian brought from the Sterling estate to take care of us. I always knew she didn't like me or Sunny. Later, I found out she had a daughter who had been in love with Julian for years. The villa's security cameras were high-definition. I heard every word clearly: "The mother has no title, no ring. If the kid isn't a bastard, what is she?" I looked down, clenching my fists until my nails dug into my palms. 2 The day Julian suddenly recovered his memory, he got into a car accident. When I rushed to the hospital with Sunny, he was sitting up in bed. Hearing us, he turned his head slowly. He was still wearing the faded clothes he left the house in that morning, but his eyes were so unfamiliar that I froze. Before, whenever Sunny called him "Daddy," no matter what he was doing, he would squat down to answer her. But that day, Sunny’s voice grew quieter with each call. It wasn't until the seventh time that he gave a faint acknowledgment. I was terrified by his strangeness, but also relieved he was alive. In a person's life, no matter how much love a newcomer gives, the soul always seeks its origin. Only then is one complete. I just didn't know then that between him and me, between his world and our trailer park, lay a canyon a thousand miles wide. I thought about it countless times. If fate hadn't played a trick, our lives wouldn't have crossed for generations. When the Sterling family came to pick him up, they were swift and discreet. They didn't even alert the neighbors. Even with my limited understanding of the world, I knew in that moment: I couldn't stop him from leaving. And once he left, we would never meet again. I looked at our empty, unfinished house. The money we saved over the years was only enough for the frame. The walls were bare concrete. We needed to save for a few more years to finish it. We always said Sunny was still small; we could finish it later. In the chaos of my thoughts, I made a rational decision. I reached out to him. "You can go. But for saving your life, for our time as husband and wife, and for your duty as a father, you should give me a sum of money. I need to raise Sunny." I couldn't keep him, but logic dictated I should keep what I could. Under the dim light of a naked bulb hanging from a wire, Julian looked at my outstretched hand for a long time. No one knew what he was thinking. I only remember him grabbing my cold hand, his voice lazy and detached. "What are you thinking? You and Sunny are coming back with me." So that day, a black SUV drove straight onto a private ferry, leaving the island. Until we boarded the private jet, no one knew who was inside. Maybe I was too greedy, using the excuse of giving Sunny a complete family to step into a completely alien world. Everyone thought Julian brought me back just for show, that we would divorce soon. But for a year, no matter how busy or late, he came back to this villa. Earlier, I heard him come in. I needed to discuss Sunny with Julian. He needed to handle this. We had a marriage license, a wedding. Sunny was born of love and expectation. She was never a bastard. Julian promised that once things settled, we would register our marriage under his real identity. If he knew Sunny was being called names, he would be furious. Walking down the stairs, I rehearsed my words, trying to be tactful. The villa was so big it felt empty. I checked a few rooms but didn't see him. At the turn of the stairs, a voice came from a slightly ajar door. 3 "Julian, the Madam says you've picked a date for the engagement?" Engagement? I thought I was hearing things. The word "engagement" and Julian didn't belong in the same sentence. He had a child. He had a wife. How could he get engaged to someone else? Through the crack, I saw a man in a bespoke suit, looking impatient as he loosened his tie. His cufflinks gleamed under the light. "My mother told you?" He lit a cigarette, smoke curling around his sharp nose. "Stop prying. And keep your mouth shut in this house." "Everyone knows, Julian. I didn't need to ask your mother. I'm happy for you. Marrying the heiress of the Vanderbilt family is the right path." "Your father let that illegitimate brother of yours into the house while you were gone. He almost took your place." "You are the legitimate heir. A legitimate marriage should be with a proper family." "It's just... that Miss Ning. How do you plan to settle her? Send her back to the countryside?" Julian glanced at her. "Are you joking? She doesn't need to leave. And she won't. Sunny is here. Where would she go?" The old nanny laughed. "True. Just keep her as a mistress. It doesn't matter." From my corner, I clearly saw the indifference in his eyes. Power and privilege truly reshape a person's soul. In the past, his eyes never held this cold, god-like detachment. He used to stand awkwardly in front of a flower stall, smiling humbly, haggling patiently for a bouquet I liked. It wasn't until this moment that I truly woke up. The man named Nathan, my husband, died the moment he became Julian Sterling again. I clutched my phone, my heart a hollow cavity. I desperately needed something to fill the void. I looked around, suddenly desperate to see my daughter. I quickened my steps, shutting out the voices from that room. "And," he stubbed out the cigarette, "how many times do I have to say it? Call her by her name or Mrs. Sterling. What is this 'Miss Ning' nonsense?" "The food on the table, did she not touch a bite?" I hadn't eaten. She deliberately didn't clear the table. "She's hard to serve. Why don't you eat some? It's all your favorites." "Ms. Higgins, you better remember why I let you in here. It's been a year, and you still don't know she's allergic to eggs? If you can't do simple things, go back to the estate. Plenty of people can do your job." Julian rarely lost his temper with her. She had been with his mother for decades. A man born into privilege, after years of hardship, had lost his temper but learned to treat everyone with polished grace. Seeing her bow apologetically, he offered no comfort. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and walked out. 4 I pushed open the door to Sunny’s room. Seeing her sleeping face, my breathing slowed. If anything had kept me from collapsing under the gossip this past year, it was her. From a barren village to the neon metropolis, the world had opened a new door for me. Behind this heavy door lay a dazzling world I had never touched and was destined never to belong to. For a year, I was lost in a fog, thinking true love conquered prejudice, that life would be brilliant forever. But now, I needed to think. A warm hand touched mine. I looked down. The sleeping girl was frowning, gripping my hand tight. I wiped my tears, took a deep breath, straightened my back, and held her small hand. "Don't be afraid. Mommy is here." "Why aren't you asleep?" A slightly hoarse voice came from behind, accompanied by the scent of whiskey. I didn't turn around. I tucked the blanket in. "Julian, when are we going to get our marriage license?" It wasn't a conversation for a bedroom. We walked down the hall to his study. I crossed my arms, keeping a distance, adopting a negotiating stance. He glanced at me. Perhaps he didn't care, so he didn't question my sudden seriousness. He chuckled lightly, taking off his watch, his posture relaxed. "The books I gave you, did you finish them?" How did I not see this obvious evasion before? It was different. It was all different. Julian was just Julian. I turned away, silent. When he made that decision to engage, he knew how helpless I would feel. But now, he ignored that helplessness. I looked at the desk on the left. It was piled high with books—art appreciation, economics, management theory. For the past year, he had been like a farmer forcing a crop to grow, trying to transform me overnight. I thought it was because I embarrassed him. But he never hid me. He introduced me to his friends openly. But I had nothing to talk about with them. They talked about stocks, global economics, tariffs, billion-dollar deals. So when I came back from the restroom and heard them call me the "shampoo girl from the trailer park," I couldn't find a reason to be sad. I never mentioned it to Julian. I learned etiquette quickly. Even if I didn't, people wouldn't dare embarrass me to my face because of him. When he first told me to take the SATs and go to college, I thought it was absurd. I was anxious to prove something. "College is for getting a job to make money. I can make money." "Degrees don't make billionaires. I don't think skipping college stops me from earning." "Remember when I met you? I owed five grand. In a few years, I paid it back, built a house, and opened two salons." "I'm good at making money. My salon is still number one in town..." Under Julian's helpless gaze, my voice trailed off. I smiled lonely. "I forgot. Your family doesn't need money." He said casually, "Just study. If you get in, we'll get the license." I looked at him seriously. "Really? If I get in, will your mother like me?" He paused, silent for a moment. "She will." I had good grades in high school. If not for bad luck, college would have been easy. When I got the acceptance letter, Julian donated a building to the university, as was the Sterling custom. I was supposed to start in September. But now... I looked at Julian. Under the lamp, he was flipping through my notes.
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