My father’s company was facing a cash flow crisis, so I went to my ex-husband for help. Seeing me approach, he put down his documents and looked at me intently. “We’ve been divorced for three years. What makes you think I’d help you?” I pointed to my slightly rounded abdomen: “This baby inside me.” He chuckled at that. “Scarlett Goldsberry, if you’re going to lie, at least come up with a better reason. Whose child takes three years to be born?” At his words, I scoffed, turning to leave before he could say another word. But who would have thought, that very night, my phone wouldn't stop buzzing. [Hey, you still there? I was actually drunk earlier today. I didn’t mean what I said.] [You wanted to borrow money, right? I’ll agree. And I’ll consider the child too.] [Why aren't you saying anything? Don't you want my money anymore?] “Please, I beg you. I’ll raise the child—just don’t go looking for anyone else, okay?” 1. The day my father told me our company was facing bankruptcy, I happened to run into Chris Davies. He was impeccably dressed in a sharp suit, exuding an air of powerful confidence. A swarm of hopeful investors circled him, showering him with praises. He was a stark contrast to the skinny, blue-and-white uniform-clad boy I’d known years ago. To gain his favor, some sycophants chugged their drinks; others subtly slipped him photos and hotel key cards, their faces alight with suggestive smiles. Chris, however, politely but firmly declined each overture. Those rebuffed didn't dare show anger, merely resuming their obsequious grins. “Mr. Davies has impeccable taste; common gold-diggers certainly won’t catch his eye. And speaking of poor judgment, those who once overlooked true talent are definitely getting their comeuppance now.” Before Chris could even open his mouth, someone nearby chimed in. “Who are we talking about? The Goldsberrys, perhaps, on the brink of ruin?” “Who else would have such terrible foresight, casting aside a talent like Mr. Davies?” As the other party in their little conversation, I stood not far off, taking it all in. Chris Davies and I were high school classmates. Back then, I was Scarlett Goldsberry, the Goldsberry family heiress, while he was a struggling student whose family barely scraped by on recycling to pay his tuition. But there was no heartwarming tale of me coming to his rescue. In fact, I often teased and bossed Chris around. Even with the demanding high school curriculum, I’d order him to write my notes and do my homework. I found him attractive, so I didn't let up in college either, constantly making him run errands for me, and practically coerced him into marrying me before graduation. A few years into our marriage, the novelty wore off, and I filed for divorce. Who would’ve thought that three years later, Chris’s company would skyrocket, while our family business spiraled, teetering on the edge of collapse? Chris’s expression remained unperturbed by their taunts, leaving his admirers unsure of his mood. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t openly mocking me after hearing about my misfortunes. Chris was still a decent man. That meant there might still be a glimmer of hope. I’d tried to schedule a meeting with him to secure an investment, but his secretary always claimed he was too busy. My only shot was to corner him at tonight's gala. Finally, I caught Chris alone as he headed to the restroom. I simply waited by the door, and the moment he emerged, I rushed forward. “Chris Davies, I need to talk to you!” The man, who had been washing his hands, met my gaze in the mirror before quickly averting his eyes. He didn’t speak until he’d finished, meticulously drying his hands with a paper towel. “What is it?” “Can we find somewhere private to talk?” “No, I’m busy.” His dismissive tone made me even more anxious, but given the urgency of my situation, I didn’t care that we were standing outside a restroom. I blurted out, “Our company has a promising project. I was wondering if you’d be interested in investing.” “Why on earth would I invest in your project?” 2. I expected him to at least ask about the project, but instead, he uttered that cold, almost petulant remark. “For old times’ sake.” “What old times?” My lips trembled, and after a long silence, I finally spoke. “Chris… hey, hey, don’t walk away!” Seeing him turn to leave, I quickly blocked his path. Chris’s assistant appeared just then, handing him a document. He signed it with swift efficiency, finally sparing me a glance. “We’ve been divorced for three years, Scarlett. What makes you think I’d help you?” Considering how ugly our divorce had been, it was a testament to his character that he wasn’t mocking me now, but actually speaking to me. But I was out of options. After much thought, I pointed to my slightly swollen abdomen. “This child.” His assistant’s eyes widened, darting between Chris and me. Chris’s face grew darker and darker. Just as I thought he was about to explode and walk away, he forced a smile. “Scarlett Goldsberry, if you’re going to lie, at least come up with a better reason. Whose child takes three years to be born? Do you think he’s some kind of mythical hero?” I was about to explain, but he cut me off. “You haven’t forgotten how you treated me back then, have you? You pressured me into marriage, then forced a divorce when my feelings were strongest, playing me like a fool. Are you still trying to make a fool of me?” Chris’s voice grew louder, and people around us started to stare. My face burned, and I wished I could vanish into thin air. “Can you believe Scarlett Goldsberry still has the nerve to approach Chris Davies?” “Seriously, she forced him to marry her back then, almost drove his mother to her grave, and now she’s shamelessly begging for a partnership.” “If I were Chris, I’d kick her out.” I stood frozen as the whispers around me intensified. Meeting Chris’s gaze, I finally conceded defeat, turning to leave before he could say anything more. That evening, back home, my father eagerly asked about the situation. I could only sigh in defeat. “Maybe you should send Chris another message?” “No, it’s no use. He made himself perfectly clear.” Besides, even though I’d unblocked him, there was no guarantee he hadn’t blocked me. Why torment myself further? Before bed, I scrolled through my social media. Under a picture I’d posted yesterday of scattered documents, captioned, “Life’s a tough climb,” my childhood friend, Leo Green, had just commented. “I heard about your family’s situation. Don’t panic, I’ll help you.” Knowing his family couldn’t solve my current predicament, I joked, asking if he’d won the lottery. Leo immediately replied, “What’s to be afraid of? Worst case, I’ll just tell my parents I’m getting married and make them foot the bill. You can help me spin the story.” I chuckled at his cheeky remark, finally feeling a little lighter. Just as I was about to turn off my phone, a flurry of messages popped up. [Hey, you still there? I was actually drunk earlier today. I didn’t mean what I said.] [You wanted to borrow money, right? I’ll agree. And I’ll consider the child too.] [Why aren't you saying anything? Don't you want my money anymore?] [Please, I beg you. I’ll raise the child—I don't care if he’s a hero or a demon—I’ll raise him. Just don’t go looking for anyone else, okay?] 3. I stared at the messages, rubbing my eyes, seriously wondering if Chris’s account had been hacked. Before I could react, Chris’s call came through. “Are you asleep? Did you see my messages? I’ve thought about it. I’ll raise the child.” “And the investment…” “No problem, I’ll invest thirty million tomorrow. But I have one condition.” I took a deep breath, telling myself that no matter how harsh the condition, I had to agree. This was our family’s only chance. “What condition?” “Tomorrow morning at nine, meet me at City Hall. We’re getting married.” I froze, repeating it incredulously. “Married? Us?” “That’s right. Technically, we’re remarrying. Bring all your documents. See you at City Hall.” Chris’s call kept me awake almost all night. The next morning, I asked my dad for our family record book. He immediately clutched my arm, wailing. “Oh, Scarlett, please don’t! I know I failed you, running the company into the ground, but you can’t disown your own father because of this!” “I’m not disowning you.” “Then why do you need the family record book? You’re not trying to sever our father-daughter ties, are you?” I lowered my head, silent for a moment, then spoke softly, “I’m going to remarry Chris Davies.” My dad gasped, taking a step back. “Scarlett, you really don’t have to go this far for me. You broke up with him back then; Chris probably hates your guts. He might even torment you.” “It’s fine. I accept it.” With low marriage rates, City Hall had no queues. Chris and I arrived at nine, and within half an hour, the paperwork was done. As I held the marriage certificate, I felt a moment of unreality. How did I end up back with him? I opened the certificate, feeling the official seal was slightly crooked, and turned to ask the clerk. “Excuse me, this…” “Once you’re married, there’s no going back.” Before I could even ask, Chris grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of City Hall. I hadn’t had a chance to speak when his phone rang in his pocket. “Chris, where are you right now? I brought you breakfast, but everyone at the office said they haven’t seen you.” It was Penny Miller’s voice. I couldn’t believe she was still clinging to Chris. They were childhood friends, I remembered Chris introducing me to his friends years ago, and Penny’s face had fallen. Then, when we got married, Penny had gotten so drunk at the wedding she almost crashed her car on the way home that night. I looked up. The person on the phone was still whining, asking for Chris’s location. He remained unfazed, speaking softly into the phone. “City Hall.” “Scarlett and I remarried.” 4. Penny Miller was fast. Chris and I had barely sat down for breakfast at a nearby diner when she burst in, rushing over to our table. “Chris, did you really remarry?” Penny was panting, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her gaze darted between us, finally zeroing in on me. “It’s all because of you! Everyone knows your family’s about to go bankrupt, and you still want Chris to clean up your mess! You’re so heartless!” I said nothing, merely looking at Chris. His teacup was set down on the table with a soft clink. Penny instantly shut up, nervously watching Chris. “This is my business, Penny. It has nothing to do with you.” “But…” She started to protest, but Chris cut her off with a look. After getting our marriage certificate, we each headed back to our respective companies. Before leaving, Chris gave me a gate code, telling me to move into his house today. “Today? Already?” “Can you call a couple who doesn’t live together a couple?” I was speechless. Penny, beside me, was fuming but dared not speak. So, that day, I packed my things and moved to Chris’s address. But Chris didn’t come home that night. The social circle was small. A few inquiries quickly told me Chris was at a bar. Someone sent me a video: Chris was in a booth, drinking, with Penny chattering incessantly beside him. “Chris, why did you suddenly get married? What’s so great about Scarlett Goldsberry anyway?” “You’re not leaving tonight.” Chris tilted his head, avoiding the drink she offered, but didn't argue with her words. Oh, so that’s how it is. All men are the same, aren’t they? Get a wife, then leave her hanging. Without a word, I marched straight to the bar, kicked open the door, and the music in the private room screeched to a halt. “Chris Davies, home!” I glared at the startled man on the couch, ignoring everyone’s strange looks, and practically dragged him to his feet. “I’m telling you, a married man needs to act like one. From now on, if you’re not home by eleven, don’t bother coming back.” As I tugged his tie, preparing to leave, someone nearby rushed to stop us. “Wait, wait, let’s just sit down and talk this over nicely.” The person blocking us had a cigarette clutched in their hand, its smell, mixed with alcohol, made me want to gag. “Snuff that out.” Without a second thought, the person flicked the cigarette into an ashtray. Penny, seeing this, shot up from her seat. “Scarlett Goldsberry, what’s your deal? Why does everyone have to listen to you?” “Because I’m pregnant, and any decent person wouldn’t smoke in front of a pregnant woman, right?” Everyone’s faces changed, and they immediately looked at Chris. Chris calmly said, “My apologies, everyone. My wife is here to pick me up, so I need to head home. Also, any gatherings that won’t finish by eleven, please don’t invite me.” I was extremely pleased with Chris’s prompt understanding. I dragged him out of the bar. But we had barely walked a few steps when Penny came running after us from behind. “Wait, Chris, how could you? Don’t you remember? Today’s my birthday!” So it was Penny’s birthday. No wonder it was such a lively gathering. “Stop! Scarlett Goldsberry, have you no shame?” Penny rushed forward, blocking our way, her gaze fixed on my stomach. “You’re pregnant and you still married Chris? Don’t you think that’s incredibly unfair?” “Oh really? I don’t think so.” I even glanced at Chris. “He knows I’m pregnant too.” 5. Penny froze, her face a mask of disbelief. “What? Chris, you know she’s pregnant?” “Yes, I know.” Penny fell completely silent. I was putting Chris into the car, about to leave, when she, still not giving up, ran to block us. “Scarlett Goldsberry, everyone knows you’re only with Chris for his money. Beggars can’t be choosers, so why are you acting so arrogant and bossy?” I leaned against the car door, smiling at her. “Well, Chris hasn’t said anything, has he? He hasn’t demanded that I grovel. And he was the one who initiated the marriage, you know.” As Penny’s face grew paler, I made sure to deliver the crucial blow. “Oh, and by the way, he chose to remarry me, not be with you.” Penny swayed, her eyes red-rimmed as she looked at Chris. “Why? Chris, don’t you understand how I feel about you? She’s carrying someone else’s child; don’t you care?” Chris remained silent, but I saw his clenched fists. He turned, his gaze sweeping over my face, then my stomach, before quickly looking away. “I don’t care.” A simple sentence, carried away by the wind, yet it struck a heavy blow to Penny’s heart. She stumbled back a few steps, collapsing to the ground, and finally burst into tears. Unfortunately, my only response was to ruthlessly close the car door and drive away. To be honest, I was just as perplexed about Chris wanting to marry me again, so I couldn’t help but ask him. “Why did you marry me?” There was no reply. The man beside me seemed to be asleep. I turned my head to look at him, meeting his gaze, so I asked again. “Why did you marry me?” “To make you regret it.” I raised an eyebrow, puzzled, waiting for him to elaborate. “Scarlett Goldsberry, you’ll see the difference between our two marriages. I’ll make you regret divorcing me.” “What kind of differences exactly? Tell me, so I can prepare myself.” Chris scoffed. “Before, I’d buy groceries and cook right after work. I’m telling you, that’s not happening anymore. I’ll hire a housekeeper, and you’ll never eat my cooking again.” “And I’ll go out once a week and won’t be home until ten-thirty. I won’t sit with you every night at eight to watch those cheesy soap operas.” “Also, I won’t cut your peeled apples into slices anymore. And those strawberries you love, where you eat the tip and I eat the bottom? From now on, you’ll eat the whole thing.” What… “vicious” punishments. I was too stunned to speak. Chris glanced at me triumphantly. “Hmph, scared now, aren’t you? This is the price for insisting on divorcing me.” It did sound quite terrifying. But compared to Chris wanting us to sleep in separate rooms, it was nothing. After we got home, Chris glanced at my belongings in the master bedroom, then, without a word, grabbed a pillow and blanket and went to another room. In the dead of winter, as a married woman, my bed was ice cold. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I barely slept that night, waking up with dark circles under my eyes. Chris had already left for work. I was sitting at the dining table, eating breakfast, when the housekeeper suddenly answered a call. “Hello? Did Mr. Davies leave a document in the study? Oh, okay, I’ll bring it over?” Hearing her, I put down my breakfast and offered, “Why don’t I take it?” It would be a good opportunity to check on the investment process at his company. On the other end of the line, Chris scoffed. “No need, I’ll send someone to pick it up.” But I didn’t expect that ‘someone’ to be Penny. As I opened the door, our eyes met. “How are you here?”
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