The day I was pushed down the stairs—the day my left kidney ruptured and had to be surgically removed—was the same day Margot called me, her breath hitching in that way it only did when she was with him. “Are you dead yet?” her voice rasped through the speaker. “If not, get over here. Bring a fresh set of Egyptian cotton sheets and sign the divorce papers.” She paused, a sharp, triumphant exhale following. “I’m pregnant with Dominic’s baby. I won’t have my son born a bastard. It’s time to give them the legal status they deserve.” I stared at the address she’d texted. In the past, I would have been blinded by a white-hot rage. I would have called my lawyers, gathered my pride, and stormed that penthouse to catch them in the act. Instead, I felt a strange, hollowed-out calm. I typed back a single word: Okay. Margot had no idea that in the original script of this world, she was nothing more than a minor character destined to die young from a terminal illness. She was only breathing because I—a traveler from another reality—had shielded her with my "Guardian Halo," a cosmic tether that kept death at bay. And her precious little lover? He wasn't the soulmate she thought he was. He was a "Virus" sent by the System to correct the timeline and drag her back to her grave. Now, the shield was shattered. Margot, my love, you have no idea how little time you have left. … When I reached the address Margot gave me, my legs were still shaking from the surgery. My face was a mask of cold sweat, and every breath felt like a serrated blade twisting in my side. The door swung open, revealing Margot’s face—sharp, beautiful, and twisted with immediate irritation. She glanced at the haphazard bandages on my elbows and knees, where blood was already seeping through the gauze. There wasn't a flicker of concern. No softening of her eyes. Just a deepening scowl. “What took you so long?” she demanded. “You weren't answering your phone. And these sheets... I told you Dominic likes the midnight blue set, not this charcoal grey.” She stepped back, letting me into the foyer. “He’s sleeping on the sofa now because I was afraid he’d catch a cold on the damp bed. I had to let him settle for a nap.” I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow and forced a thin, fragile smile. “My phone died. The boutiques were closed. This was the only new set we had left at the house.” I leaned against the doorframe, my vision swimming. “I would’ve been faster, but when Dominic pushed me down the stairs at the mall, my kidney ruptured. I had to have it removed. It took some time.” The truth was, I’d seen them earlier that afternoon. I’d caught them coming out of a high-end baby boutique, hand-in-hand, glowing with the secret of her pregnancy. I hadn’t even opened my mouth to confront her before Dominic started his performance. “Oh, God, Miles! Please don't hit me!” he’d shrieked, cowering like a kicked puppy. In the chaos that followed, I felt a violent shove. The world tilted, and I tumbled down the concrete steps. As I lay broken at the bottom, I heard Dominic sobbing, “Margot, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just so scared. I know I’m just the other man, and I deserve whatever he does to me, but I couldn't let him hurt our baby. Even if the world never knows he’s ours, I have to protect him.” Because of the countless times I’d tried to "save" our marriage by confronting her affairs, I already had a reputation in our social circle as the jealous, unstable husband. I looked down to see a pool of red spreading beneath me. I clutched my stomach, gasping Margot’s name, pleading for her to look at me. But she didn't. She simply wrapped her arms around Dominic’s waist, her eyes filled with a fierce, protective love I hadn't seen in years. “I know,” she whispered to him. “Don’t be afraid. I’m going to give you and the baby a real name. A real life.” I watched her pull a diamond the size of a postage stamp from her pocket. In front of a crowd of strangers, she dropped to one knee and proposed to her side-piece while her husband bled out ten feet away. I blacked out to the sound of people cheering for their "true love." A stranger called the ambulance. Margot never even looked back. And now, here she was, remembering I existed only because I was an obstacle to her new family. I reached out for the divorce papers. As I tried to step into the living room to sign them, my knees buckled. I tripped over the threshold and slammed onto the floor. “Argh—” The pain was blinding. Huge drops of sweat rolled down my face as I lay there, unable to get back up. Margot’s first instinct wasn't to help me. She whipped her head around toward the sofa, checking if the noise had woken Dominic. When she saw he was still asleep, she turned her venom back on me. “Seriously? Stop it,” she hissed. “Don’t think you can win me back with a pity play. Even if you were dying, I wouldn’t change my mind about this divorce.” She stepped over my legs as if they were trash. “And even if you had both kidneys, I never wanted a child with you. Dominic doesn’t want anyone competing with our baby for the estate. Don’t worry, though. For the sake of the years you spent following me around, I’ll give you a settlement. It’ll be enough for you to live out the rest of your pathetic life.” I stared at the jagged scar on my wrist, a relic from a darker time. I felt surprisingly... hollow. Margot wasn’t lying. She’d made her stance on "our" children clear years ago. When I first caught her cheating, I’d spiraled. I thought my death would finally make her regret hurting me. I’d slit my wrists in the bathtub, the water turning a sickening crimson. Our housekeeper, Mrs. Adler, had screamed for Margot. Margot had merely leaned against the bathroom doorframe, exhaling a thin cloud of cigarette smoke. “Miles, give it up,” she’d said, her voice devoid of warmth. “When I loved you, a single sneeze from you felt like a knife in my heart. But seeing all this blood? It just bores me. Honestly, I’m mostly annoyed that you might ruin the dress I bought for my date with Dominic tonight.” She’d looked at me with pure clinical detachment. “Get the message. When it’s over, it’s over.” That night, while I was being resuscitated in the ICU, Margot was at a rooftop garden restaurant, singing love songs and celebrating her "three-month anniversary" with Dominic. That was the moment I stopped fighting. I stopped trying to pull her back. Margot didn't realize that she was a glitch. She was supposed to die at twenty-three. I was the one who cheated the System, giving her my "Guardian Halo" to keep her heart beating. But Dominic was the Virus. Every time they slept together, the Virus ate away at her protection. The moment I’d gone under the knife for my kidney, a cold, synthesized voice had echoed in my mind: [Guardian Halo compromised. Virus integration: 90%. In thirty days, Subject Margot will succumb to terminal brain cancer.] A ballpoint pen clicked near my ear, snapping me back to the present. Margot was looking down at me, a mocking tilt to her head. “What? Do you need me to carry you to the table to sign? Get up. Honestly, every time I touch you, I feel like I need a shower.” She leaned in, her voice a cruel whisper. “I never wanted to carry your child. Having a baby with a man like you... I’d rather be dead. So stop stalling. Sign the papers before I lose my patience and decide you don't get a dime.” She was referring to the years I’d spent working three jobs—including a stint as a host at a high-end club—to fund her first startup. She called me "dirty" because I’d let women touch my arms and flirt with me to earn the tips that paid her medical bills. I was an accidental traveler in this world. The System had told me I’d be sent home once the "narrative" was repaired. Until then, it gave me the Halo to survive. But I’d arrived with nothing. I was a nobody in a cold city. When I was cornered in an alley by thugs years ago, before the Halo could even trigger, it was Margot—then just a scrappy girl working construction—who had saved me. She’d cracked a lead pipe over a man’s head and dragged me back to her crumbling studio apartment. She’d fed me ramen. She’d given me a place to sleep. She wore patched-up overalls so she could buy me decent clothes. When she got extra meat in her lunchbox at the site, she’d save it for me, tucked away like a treasure. One night, she’d bought me a ring with three months' worth of savings. “Miles,” she’d said, her eyes shining in the dim light. “You don’t have anyone. I don’t have anyone. But together? We’re a family. I’m going to give you the world.” Back then, the System had already warned me of her fate. She was sick. She fainted constantly. I lied to her, told her it was just low blood sugar, while I worked myself to the bone to pay for treatments she didn't know she was receiving. I’d endured the wandering hands of club patrons, the humiliation, the exhaustion—all to keep her alive. But she kept fading. Finally, I’d found a loophole. I permanently transferred my Guardian Halo to her. It was an irrevocable gift. The price? I lost my ticket back to my real world. I thought it was worth it. I was an orphan anyway. Wherever Margot was, that was home. With her health restored and the business insights I provided from my knowledge of this "story," she climbed from a construction worker to a CEO. And then... she met Dominic. Her "pure, clean" assistant. When I finally caught them in a hotel room, she didn't even flinch. “Miles, back then, I didn't have choices. You were the best I could do,” she’d said, buttoning her shirt with casual grace. “But now? I have everything. Every time I look at you, I think about how you sold yourself to get the information that built this company. You’re tainted.” She’d laughed when I tried to tell her the truth about being a traveler. “You think I’d believe that fairy tale? You were a broke nobody. You got those tips by sleeping around. Dominic is different. He’s innocent. He’s fresh. Being with him makes me feel like life is actually beautiful.” So, I’d learned to be silent. I’d watched her leave me on our anniversaries. I’d ignored the stray items left in her car. I waited, teeth grit, for the Virus to finish its work. The System had made me a new deal: Once Margot died and the timeline reset, I could finally go home. And as a final severance package, I could take every asset she owned with me. I pulled myself up using the doorframe, the pain a dull throb now. I took the pen and signed the papers with a steady hand. The moment I finished the last stroke, the lights flickered and died. A power outage. Dominic appeared from the darkness of the living room, holding a flickering candle. He walked toward me with a sweet, nauseating smile. “Mr. Sterling, I’m so sorry you had to make this trip. The sheets got... well, quite messy,” he said, his voice dripping with false modesty. “But since the power’s out, the elevators won’t work. You’ll have to take the stairs.” He paused, tilting his head. “I’d offer you a flashlight, but everything in this house was bought by Margot and me. I’d hate for a stranger to walk off with our things. Sorry~” He took the sheets from my hand and leaned into Margot, circling her waist with his finger. “Margot, babe... I’m awake now. And I’m feeling lonely again.” Margot’s breath hitched. She leaned in, devouring his lips, and slammed the door in my face. In the suffocating dark of the hallway, listening to the muffled, rhythmic sounds of her betrayal, I began the long, agonizing trek down forty-six flights of stairs. By the time I made it back to our—her—estate, I could barely stand. My clothes were shredded from a few stumbles in the dark. Mrs. Adler, the housekeeper, gasped when she saw me. She rushed to help me onto the sofa and ran for the first aid kit. I plugged my phone in, and almost immediately, it began to ring. It was the hospital. “Mr. Sterling? We have Mrs. Sterling’s lab results. It’s... it’s not good. Early-stage glioblastoma. Brain cancer.” The doctor sounded confused. “That’s strange. I looked at her file this morning and it seemed perfectly clear... but these new markers are aggressive.” Margot hated administrative "nonsense," so I was the only one on the contact list. “Luckily, we caught it early,” the doctor continued. “Please, make sure she comes in for a follow-up immediately. We might still be able to save her.” I stared at the wall. Save her? Not a chance. I wanted her to spend every waking second with Dominic. I wanted them to "love" each other ten times a day until the Virus reached her brainstem. And she complied. Margot stopped coming home entirely. She was too busy flying Dominic to Paris for custom suits, or spending millions on pink diamonds at auctions, designing a wedding ring that made our marriage look like a footnote. I became the city’s favorite punchline: the discarded husband of the Year. I didn't care. I sat in my quiet house, listening to the System’s daily reports on her deteriorating cells. Until her lead assistant called me in a panic. Margot had been arrested. She’d physically assaulted a high-profile client at a gala because the woman had made a comment about Dominic being a "kept man" who didn't belong at the table. The client’s husband was a shark; he wasn't just suing—he wanted her destroyed. When I arrived at the precinct, Margot was standing in front of a red-eyed, sniveling Dominic, shielding him with her body as she glared at the client’s husband. “Sue me,” she spat. “I’ll go to jail before I let anyone disrespect my man.” I froze for a heartbeat. Years ago, in a smoky club, she’d stood in front of three men who were trying to drag me into a car. She’d been beaten bloody that night, but she never moved an inch. “I’ll die before I let them touch my Evan!” she’d screamed back then. The names had changed. The sentiment remained the same. I stepped forward to offer an apology to the client, Mr. Harrison, but he wasn't interested. He threw his lukewarm coffee directly into my face. “God, Sterling, aren't you pathetic?” he sneered. “Your wife treats you like gum on her shoe, parades her boy toy around, and you’re still playing the martyr? You’re lower than the side-piece.” He turned back to the officers. “My wife is in the ER. Unless this bitch and her lapdog give a public apology and a full confession, we’re going to trial. I want her in a cell.” Margot watched me wipe coffee from my eyes with a chilling indifference. A faint, mocking smirk touched her lips, as if laughing at my meddling. But when Harrison insulted Dominic again, her face went dark. She lunged, and it took two officers to hold her back. I didn't care about her reputation or the insults. But if Margot went to prison, the company’s stock would tank, and that would hurt my eventual inheritance. I wiped my face and leaned into Harrison’s ear, lowering my voice so only he could hear. “Mr. Harrison, we both know your wife started that fight. A public trial drags everyone’s laundry out. Margot isn't a soft target.” I paused, my voice turning cold. “But if you trust me, I can give you something better. Give me one month. I guarantee you that both she and her company will disappear from this world.” Harrison looked at me, his eyes narrowing. “You? The man who can't even handle a twenty-two-year-old intern?” I pulled up Margot’s digital lab report on my phone and slid it toward him. “You’ve seen how fast this company grew,” I whispered. “It wasn't Margot’s 'intuition.' It was me. I know about a project—a massive acquisition—that no one else has touched yet. If you move now, your net profit by next year will be nine figures.” I looked him in the eye. “Sign the waiver for Margot. I give you the data. You can choose to fight a dying woman, or you can choose to be the richest man in the state. Your call.” Everyone in the city knew the Sterling Group’s meteoric rise was legendary. They just didn't realize when the "magic" had stopped. It stopped the day I caught her in that hotel room. Harrison was a shark, and sharks know when to bite. He signed the release. As he left, he gave me a long, contemplative look. “Margot is a fool. To have a weapon like you and waste it on a boy like that...” He shrugged. “When the divorce is final, call me. I have a daughter who actually knows the value of a partner.” I smiled politely and said nothing. He didn't see me as a person; he saw me as an asset. Just like Margot had. I remembered the way she’d looked at me once the money started rolling in. “Miles, if I hadn't pulled you out of that alley, you’d be dead or worse by now. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” I didn't need a "home" from her anymore. I just needed the cash. I drove back to the villa, but as I went to unbuckle my seatbelt, a pair of blinding high beams flooded my vision. A car roared toward me. CRASH. The impact shattered the night. Even with the airbag, I felt the warm slip of blood down my temple. My ribs screamed. The door was ripped open. Margot grabbed my collar and hauled me out of the wreck, her face twisted in a mask of fury. “You disgusting, pathetic snake!” she screamed. “You signed the papers, and then you went behind my back to have Harrison’s wife humiliate Dominic again? Do you know how hard he’s been crying?!” She shook me, her nails digging into my skin. “How did you get to Harrison? Did you sleep with him too? Do you think destroying Dominic’s reputation will make me come back to you? You make me sick. I wouldn't touch you if you were the last man on earth!” Mrs. Adler ran out of the house, sobbing at the sight of my bloodied face. “Oh my God! Mr. Sterling! Come inside, let me help you—” “Don’t you dare call him that!” Margot roared. “From now on, there is only one master of this house, and it’s Dominic!” She turned her cold eyes on me. “This is my house. I bought it. You have no right to step foot inside. Mrs. Adler, Dominic is distraught. He hasn't eaten. Go fix him some soup. If I see you helping Miles, you can pack your bags and leave with him!” Mrs. Adler looked at me, her hands trembling in her apron. I gave her a small, reassuring nod. It's okay. After she went inside, I tried to reach for my phone to call 911. Margot snatched it out of my hand and hurled it into the lake. “I built this empire,” she said, her voice dropping to a terrifying, quiet chill. “I didn't need your 'tips.' I did this myself. So stop pretending you’re a martyr. I owe you nothing.” She stepped toward the door. “Since you wanted to play games with the divorce, consider this your punishment. The car, the phone, the house—they’re mine. I’ll burn them before I let you have a cent.” She disappeared inside. A second later, the electronic lock chimed. Code changed. The night air was freezing. My lungs felt like they were filled with glass. I thought about how she used to say that everything she had was mine. How she just wanted me to stay home and be happy. Since her word meant nothing now, I supposed it was time to take back the life and the fortune I’d lent her. The door opened again. Mrs. Adler rushed out and pressed a roll of cash into my hand. “Mr. Sterling, please. It’s my salary from this month. I withdrew it yesterday. Take it, get a taxi, go to a doctor.” She was shaking. “She’s... she’s just confused. When she calms down, she’ll fix this. I know she will.” As the words left her mouth, a pile of clothes and objects were hurled from the second-story window. Our wedding photos. My suits. The hand-painted gifts I’d given her for every birthday. “Margot, please... I’ve never done it in your house before,” Dominic’s voice drifted down from the balcony, a playful, suggestive whine. “I want to do it in the bedroom, and on the stairs... I want every corner of this place to smell like us.” There was a pause, then Margot’s voice, husky and raw. “Whatever you want, baby. Anything.” “Silly girl,” Dominic chirped. “This is our home now. For our baby. We’re going to be together forever.” As they spoke, one last item was tossed into the dirt. My heart twinged for a second when I saw what it was. Before I’d given her the Halo, when she was still weak and terrified of dying, she had climbed three thousand stone steps to a mountain shrine on her hands and knees. She’d brought back a hand-carved wooden plaque with our names on it. “To Miles: May we grow old together in peace and happiness.” Now, the wood was splintered. The names had been gouged out with a knife. It was just a piece of trash. Mrs. Adler went silent, looking at the wreckage of my life. I patted her hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Adler. I’ll pay you back. I promise. Many times over.” Good people deserve a reward. And the heartless? Well, they don't get to grow old. Six hours after I left the ER with a row of stitches in my head, the System pinged. Margot had been trying to "celebrate" with Dominic on the balcony. A sudden, blinding migraine had struck. Her vision went black. She’d tumbled over the railing and fallen two stories to the pavement.
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