Seven years after breaking up with my first love, I took in a college boy who looked just like him. Everyone around me said he was just a substitute, but he would only smile softly and never argue. As time went on, I felt that living like this wasn't bad at all. I warned my friends: "Don't call him a stand-in. I'm going to marry him." That single sentence caused my first love, who was halfway across the world, to book an overnight flight back to the States. Even though we had been apart for years, and he had never once come back for me. 1 When I pulled open the door, the smile froze on my face. A man I had only seen in my dreams for the past seven years stood on my porch. Ethan Vance. My first love. His features were as sharp and deep as ever, his eyes like stars. He looked more mature than before, and even more magnetic. Wrapped in a black windbreaker, he stood as tall and imposing as a tree. I had imagined what we would say to each other if we ever met again countless times, but I never expected him to speak first. He raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" When we broke up back then, it wasn't an ugly, screaming fight. It ended through his long, agonizing campaign of the cold shoulder. But I had my pride. On the day of the first snow that new year, I stood alone in the freezing cold and cried until I broke down. Yet, when I opened my phone, I simply typed one calm sentence: "Let's break up. You're free." He replied instantly—something he had almost never done during his months of ignoring me. "Okay." From that day on, my unforgettable first love came to a full stop. For years, I thought I could never forget him. But it turns out time really does smooth over everything. Seeing him again, the turbulent waves that used to crash in my chest were completely gone. Now, he sat in my living room while I meticulously decorated the house. I hung balloons and string lights. When the cake in the oven was done, I pulled it out and carefully frosted it following a tutorial. A few stray strands of hair fell across my forehead, but I didn't even bother to brush them away. I had no time to pay attention to his presence. In my peripheral vision, I only saw his fingers slowly curling into tight fists. Today was Liam's birthday. After a busy afternoon, people slowly started to arrive. They were all my friends. I wanted a full house; I wanted Liam to have a happy day. When my friends saw Ethan sitting on the sofa, those who knew our history froze in their tracks. But after glancing at me, they kept their mouths shut. At five o'clock, the doorbell rang again. I opened the door, and Liam stood there holding a bouquet of flowers, gazing at me with a gentle, loving smile. I pulled him inside as confetti cannons popped from both sides, showering him in color. "Happy Birthday, Liam!" I happily threw my arm around his shoulders and introduced him to all my friends. I went down the line, and when I reached Ethan, my tone paused for a fraction of a second before I spoke as casually as possible: "This is... Ethan Vance. An old high school classmate of mine." Ethan stared at me. When his brow furrowed, he was actually quite intimidating, his presence overwhelmingly heavy. If I went by my past knowledge of him, I half-expected him to flip the table and storm out. But thankfully, he didn't. Even when Liam extended a hand to him, Ethan gave me enough face to shake it. I breathed a sigh of relief. Throughout the entire birthday party, I made sure Liam was the center of attention. My friends showered him with relentless praise. After all, ever since I dropped that warning a while back, no one dared to tactlessly call him a substitute again. "He's so handsome, Chloe. I'm so jealous you have such a gorgeous boyfriend." "Not just handsome, but he has a great temper too! Unlike that guy you dated years ago, wow, he was a total..." The person realized what they were saying, shot a terrified glance at Ethan, and instantly clamped their mouth shut. ... The party's atmosphere peaked after everyone was full and we started playing Truth or Dare. Liam lost a round and chose 'Dare.' The condition: kiss me. Everyone clapped and cheered: "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" "Come on, kiss her! You're not a real man if you don't! That's your girlfriend!" Suddenly, with a loud bang, the front door was slammed shut. Ethan was no longer in his seat. ... 2 After the party wrapped up and everyone left, I went upstairs. Liam was sitting at his easel, earnestly studying a canvas. The soft bedroom light spilled over him, highlighting his elegant profile. He didn't know that he was far more breathtaking than the art he painted. Sneaking up behind him, I suddenly felt playful and reached out to cover his eyes. "Guess who?" Liam needed total concentration when he painted, but he never got mad at me for interrupting him. I could feel the corners of his lips curve upward as he played along: "I don't know. Who is this?" "I'm your baby," I said sweetly. I let go. He tilted his head back, smiling up at me, and then pulled me right into his lap. His embrace was broad, soft, yet strong. He enveloped me effortlessly. I buried my face in his chest and took a deep breath. That faint, signature scent that belonged only to Liam always intoxicated me. But then, he suddenly asked: "What's wrong with you today?" "Huh? Nothing's wrong." "I just feel..." His gaze fell on me, thoughtful. "You seem a little off." I didn't expect him to be so perceptive. Seeing the man I had longed for for years, no matter how calm I tried to be, I was inevitably affected. But I had no intention of telling him. To my surprise, he asked: "That guy today, the one you said was a high school classmate. I've never seen him around you before." Alarm bells rang in my head. "Oh... he went abroad right after graduation. He just moved back recently..." I thought I was acting perfectly normal, but I couldn't help the guilty flutter in my chest, silently praying he wouldn't press further. But he looked at me with a half-smile, effortlessly piercing my disguise. "That was your ex, wasn't it?" "...How did you know?" "I guessed." Looking into his eyes, I surrendered. Maybe this was a man's sixth sense. I raised three fingers, swearing to the heavens, the earth, and my heart. "I admit it, yes, he is." "But it's been so long. I have absolutely zero feelings for him anymore." "Don't you know who fills my head completely right now?" By the time I finished that last sentence, I couldn't help but grin cheekily. He gently pinched my cheek. "I know." He didn't ask anything else. This was Liam. Always graceful, always knowing exactly where the boundaries were, knowing when to advance and when to retreat. Sometimes I thought it made perfect sense why people secretly called him "Liam the Accommodating." Otherwise, with so many people coming and going in my life over the years, why was he the only one who stayed? That weekend, I was invited to play golf. It was a standard social event for the upper crust, a place where everyone networked and exchanged market insights between swings. I brought Liam with me. Many people in our circle knew about our relationship. While those elites were gossips, they wouldn't disrespect me to my face. The caddies picking up the golf balls, however, were a different story. I heard them whispering: "See that pretty boy? He's sponsored by Ms. Sterling. I heard she drops hundreds of thousands on him every month." "She treats him so well, even bringing him to play golf. A high-end place like this... he's dirtying our club's grass." "Exactly. A broke kid like him has probably never touched a golf club in his life." ... A spot opened up on the green, so I asked Liam. "Want to give it a try?" He didn't refuse. He nodded, looking incredibly elegant. He stepped up to the tee, took a ball, gripped the club, and swung. Hole in one. Perfect. People around us turned their heads in surprise. I clapped delightedly, cheering loudly, "Beautiful!" 3 I swiped my card for twenty grand on the spot. The club brought out stacks of cash, and I had them distribute it to everyone present. Whenever someone hit a hole-in-one here, it was tradition to tip out cash to the staff as a celebration. When they reached the caddies who had been whispering, I said coldly: "Skip those guys." "Their mouths are too filthy. I don't want them dirtying my money." Their faces instantly flushed with deep shame. The CEO who invited me laughed and said: "I didn't expect your... boyfriend to be so skilled." I waved my hand dismissively. "If it wasn't for his family's bad luck back then... sigh, never mind. Let's just say it wasn't easy for me to win him over." I was born into a Manhattan old-money dynasty. With a large extended family, I was groomed from childhood to be the primary heir, which gave me the capital to look down on almost everyone. It was safe to say that, aside from the massive failure I experienced with Ethan Vance, no one had ever rejected me. Just as the cash was being handed out near the edge of the green, a low gasp rippled through the crowd. A tall, remarkably handsome man stood there. I didn't know when he had arrived. It seemed like he had been watching for a while. His assistant tried to hand him a couple of thousand dollars from my tip pool with an apologetic smile, but he didn't even look at it. He stepped up to the tee and took a swing. Another hole-in-one. The crowd gasped again. He swiped his card for forty grand. When he turned his head, he saw me happily holding Liam's hand. "How are you so amazing? As expected of my boyfriend, you make me look so good!" Ethan's face darkened instantly. I was completely oblivious, continuing to praise Liam. Suddenly, a golf ball shot into my field of vision. It was moving at a terrifying speed, hurtling straight for Liam's head. It missed by a fraction of an inch, grazing Liam's temple before slamming heavily into the ground. A golf ball of that density, with that much momentum, could have easily given someone a severe concussion or worse! But Ethan just walked over and said nonchalantly: "My bad. My swing went wide." "Wide, my ass!" I couldn't hold back my curses anymore. "Vance, are you out of your f***ing mind?!" He didn't expect me to react so explosively. He held up his hands in a mocking surrender. "He's just a little pet you keep around. I heard he's even my substitute. The real thing is standing right in front of you, and you're still settling for the knockoff?" Beside me, Liam's expression didn't change, but his eyes visibly dimmed. Ethan's words stomped directly on my biggest landmine. I raised my hand, pointing a trembling finger right at his nose, gritting my teeth. "Let me make this clear. Liam is my boyfriend. He's not a substitute. You better learn your f***ing place next time, or I swear to God, every time I see you in New York, I will make your life a living hell." "You know I have the power to do it!" Strictly speaking, the Vance family controlled commerce, while my family controlled politics and infrastructure. His family still had to bow their heads to mine. Ethan's expression shifted. Slowly, his jaw clenched tight. He looked at me with pure disbelief: "You're doing this... for him?" But I was already dragging Liam away. 4 Once we were sitting in the car, my heart ached. I held his face, examining it over and over. Even though the ball hadn't actually hit him, I was still terrified. "Does it hurt?" I asked. He blinked, and a fine mist of tears pooled in his eyes. "Yeah... it hurts." My heart broke even more. Seeing him looking so pitiful made my rage toward Ethan boil over. "He got kicked in the head by a mule! That idiot, swinging without looking where he's aiming—why doesn't he just go die?!" I kept cursing a blue streak until I finally snapped out of it and realized Liam was looking at me, smiling. His gaze was infinitely gentle. For some reason, I froze for a second. "What? Is there something on my face?" His hand gently brushed through my hair, sending a tingling flutter down my spine. "I love it when you get angry for my sake." "Why?" "It shows you care about me." I grabbed his hand and poked his palm playfully with my finger. In this intimate atmosphere, I suddenly felt incredibly warm. "Of course I care about you. Hmph." He let out another soft laugh. I realized I was blushing. The news that I threatened to destroy Ethan Vance at the golf course spread like wildfire. Now, everyone in our social circle was gossiping about "the heiress who waged war for her boy toy." Even my parents found out. On the phone, my dad shouted furiously: "Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?! You threatened Ethan Vance over a plaything?!" "The relationship we've built with the Vance family for years was ruined by your one sentence! Do you know how many people are laughing at us right now?!" "You are going to apologize to Ethan, and then you are cutting off that little boy of yours!" The situation wasn't actually that dire. I hadn't truly moved against Ethan; my dad was just angry and lashing out. However, he used this as an excuse to remove me from my position as General Manager, demoting me to an unimportant department. He stripped me of my power. When I found Liam, he had already set everything up. Seeing me, he wrapped a salon cape around my shoulders. The sprays, scissors, and clippers were all laid out perfectly. Today was the day he gave me my regular haircut. He teased me: "I haven't done this professionally in so long. Aren't you afraid I'll ruin your hair?" But I didn't say a word. Sensing something was wrong, he immediately closed his mouth.
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