My sister invited me to her wedding, but standing at the altar was a face I knew all too well. It was the man who had pressed a soft kiss to my lips just this morning before leaving our apartment. Now, I was watching them recite their vows and exchange wedding rings. My sister looped her arm through his and elegantly reminded me: "I specifically asked Caleb to take care of you before, but now, Hazel, it's time you found a real boyfriend." I glanced at Caleb Wright. He smirked slightly, gazing lovingly at my sister, offering absolutely no explanation. Whatever. I didn't want him anymore. Even if Caleb stood outside my rundown apartment door in the future, calling me "sweetheart" over and over again, I still wouldn't want him. 1 When Caleb left the house this morning, he had pressed a light kiss to my cheek. He reminded me, just like he always did: "Food is in the fridge. Heat it up when you wake up, and make sure you eat." So, when I saw Caleb's face at the wedding, my first reaction wasn't anger, but pure, disorienting disbelief. As the officiant read the vows, Caleb looked at my sister with absolute devotion, leaving me with only a view of his profile. There was a tiny mole right at the corner of his eye. So many times, when he had to cancel a date because he was "busy" and made me mad, he would cling to me and whine sweetly. "I'll let you kiss the mole by my eye. Don't be mad. I know it's your favorite." I never mistook him for someone else, but why was it Caleb? After being taken back to the Thorne family, I rarely appeared in public. I never told anyone I was a member of the Thorne family, and I never coveted anything that didn't belong to me. I didn't get to choose my origins, but I had tried my absolute hardest to stay away from the Thornes. So why was my boyfriend standing at the altar with my sister? My eldest brother, Sebastian, suddenly grabbed my wrist tightly just as the officiant asked Caleb: "Do you take Vivienne Thorne to be your lawfully wedded wife, regardless of..." At the same time, Sebastian's voice dropped into my ear. "Forgot to tell you, Caleb and our little sister are childhood sweethearts. We've spoiled her rotten, so she does whatever she wants." "I apologize to you on her behalf." The "little sister" he was talking about wasn't me. It was Caleb's bride, Vivienne, the elegant heiress of the Thorne family. Sebastian always did whatever he pleased. He was speaking to me so politely not out of respect, but out of sheer disgust. I deliberately ignored Sebastian's words and stared intensely at Caleb. He didn't even spare me a glance out of the corner of his eye. He just looked at my sister, his gaze tender and affectionate, and answered firmly: "I do." I couldn't ignore those words. A sharp, stinging pain pierced my chest, and tears instinctively rolled down my cheeks. The hand gripping my wrist pulled away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sebastian using a tissue to meticulously wipe his long fingers. His disdainful voice floated down lightly. "Hazel Thorne? You really have some nerve, dreaming about things way out of your league." 2 "Vivienne, come here. Let your big brother see how beautiful his little sister is." Vivienne lifted the hem of her wedding dress and jogged over. Caleb followed closely behind her, guarding her carefully. "Sebastian, is it pretty? Caleb spent months picking it out." There were tiny rhinestones near the corners of Vivienne's eyes. As she moved, they caught the light beautifully, matching the diamonds on her dress. It was indeed beautiful. Sebastian reverted to his usual nonchalant demeanor. "Of course my sister is beautiful. Even if you weren't wearing the dress that brat Caleb picked out, you'd still be gorgeous." His tone was incredibly familiar. After speaking, he looked at Vivienne and Caleb with a gentle smile. Caleb wore a faint, confident smile on his face—a look I had never seen on him before. "Sebastian, we still have to go toast the guests. Vivienne and I are going to find Mom and Dad first. We'll catch up later." Throughout the entire exchange, I didn't get the chance to say a single word. In fact, no one even spared me a glance. The disdain was blatantly obvious. It was exactly like the day I first stepped into the Thorne estate. My mother was kneeling on the floor, begging: "She's your daughter, you can't just abandon her..." Their entire family had sat on the sofa, doing their own things, even discussing an interesting news article, as if they didn't even see us standing in the doorway. The simplest form of being ignored was enough to shatter us completely. It was the same now. I suddenly lost all desire to argue. I didn't even want to know how Caleb ended up becoming my sister's husband. I just wanted to get as far away from the Thorne family as possible, go back to my tiny, rundown apartment, and cry my eyes out. When I woke up tomorrow, I would still be Hazel—a girl who had absolutely nothing to do with the Thorne family. 3 "Sebastian, I should get going then." I tried my best to maintain my composure, making myself look a bit more dignified. "Don't. Why are you leaving? Caleb took care of you for so long, saying hello is the least you could do." "My little sister is just spoiled. She insisted Caleb go take care of you. You didn't misinterpret anything, did you?" Misinterpret what? The time Caleb clung to me and whispered, "I love you"? Or when he whined and said I was the only person he liked? Were these all just a game you guys knew about all along? And I was just the idiot being played for a fool. Now that the truth was out, you just had to check on the mental state of the idiot you played. You people really have too much time on your hands. I collected my emotions and lifted my chin. "I didn't misinterpret anything." "Sebastian, if you had told me earlier that Caleb was someone Vivienne specifically hired to 'take care' of me, I would have treated him better." "At the very least, I wouldn't have made him squeeze into a cheap apartment with me." Sebastian probably didn't expect me to pivot so quickly. He froze for a second. From behind came Vivienne's voice: "Hazel, come here. Your brother-in-law and I want to toast you." She walked toward me, holding a champagne glass. Mrs. Thorne, who was standing next to her, shot me a look of utter contempt before turning her head away. Vivienne stopped in front of me. Caleb stood beside her, whispering a reminder: "Drink less, your stomach will hurt again later." Looking at this display of deep affection, I sighed internally: Wow, you guys really are incredible actors. The man who had been clinging to me for kisses when he left this morning could seamlessly shift roles in under three hours and carefully tend to another woman. It was absolutely nauseating. I raised my glass: "Wishing my sister and brother-in-law a century of happiness and a beautiful baby soon." I couldn't stay a second longer. I turned to leave. She called out from behind me. "Hazel, all those cheap plushies and watches you gave Caleb... I threw them all away. Don't blame your sister, okay?" I stopped in my tracks. I remembered when Caleb and I were together, he cared so much about ceremony. He would always act cute and beg for gifts on every minor holiday. I didn't have much money, so I used the wages from my lab internship to buy him small things. Scarves, flowers, watches. I carefully selected each one, hoping to see the happy look on his face when he received them. But the gifts I gave him always seemed to disappear the very next day. He lied and told me that he safely stored away everything I gave him. So, this was the real reason. That woman who gave birth to me never taught me much, but I remember her telling me when she was at the peak of her glamorous life: "The more desperate your situation, the more dignified you must act." Although she couldn't keep that promise herself in the end, I remembered those words. Being stabbed right in the wound, I dug my fingernails into my palms and feigned indifference: "They weren't anything important anyway. If they're thrown away, they're thrown away." With that, without looking back at their expressions, I forced my trembling legs to walk forward. 4 When I got home, I started packing Caleb's things. From the bedsheets and duvet covers he had picked out, down to his toothbrush and the ring he left behind. I ended up packing quite a lot. I separated them into three trash bags and planned to take them downstairs to the dumpster. This apartment complex was beautiful. There was no shortage of gardens and trees. Right now, I could see the blooming Dogwood tree outside the window. When we were apartment hunting in the spring, Caleb had chosen this place at first glance precisely because of the tall Dogwood tree by the entrance. But the rent here was too high. I had to double my freelance workload just to barely afford it, not to mention I still had to go to the lab every day. In the end, he hugged me and pleaded, blinking his puppy-dog eyes at me, and I caved, nodding in agreement. The building didn't have an elevator, so I dragged the bags down the stairs. The Dogwood tree was in full bloom, looking like a giant pink cloud of cotton candy from afar. It was a hot day, and my back was quickly drenched in sweat. The heavy plastic bags left deep red indentations on my hands. I felt a surge of frustration. I pulled a bit too hard, and one of the bags ripped open, spilling his clothes all over the stairs. I froze, staring at the clothes tumbling down to the landing below. I blinked, unable to describe what I was feeling in my chest. I just dragged my stiff body back upstairs to find a thicker trash bag. While I was squatting on the stairs picking up the clothes, the elderly neighbor lady happened to be coming home. Seeing me, she greeted me warmly: "Hazel, packing things up? I see Caleb could still wear these clothes. Don't spoil him too much." Even a neighbor I had only run into two or three times knew I spoiled Caleb. I paid the rent. I paid for our meals out. Even the clothes on his back were bought by me. All he had to do was whine a little, and I immediately abandoned all my principles. Maybe it was because I was so starved for love growing up. The moment I caught someone, I spoiled them desperately, completely blind to what their actual intentions were. My throat tightened. I wiped my face with my forearm, taking a moment to steady my voice before answering the grandma. "I know, Grandma. I won't anymore." After throwing everything into the dumpster, I threw myself onto my bed and forced my eyes shut. When I opened them again, the room was pitch black. I grabbed my phone and called my senior lab partner, Clara: "Clara, I want to live in the university dorms. Can I still get a room?" After that was settled, I sent a text to my landlord: "I want to terminate my lease." I buried my face in the pillow, muttering to myself uncontrollably. "It's fine. Just treat Caleb like a bad dream." "I'm still me. The normal girl who got into the research lab on her own merit." "My mom was wrong. I need to stay away from the Thorne family. I have nothing to do with them. I have nothing to do with them." ... 5 "Hazel, you came back at the perfect time. The lab is insanely busy. Marcus and I practically want to sleep here." Caleb and Vivienne's wedding was incredibly lavish. Anyone in Boston who used the internet probably saw photos of that gorgeous ceremony, let alone my lab partners Clara and Marcus. Clara led me down the hall to a dorm room, handed me the key, and quietly tried to comfort me. "You're finally back. We can go grab some drinks tonight to celebrate." I took the key and nodded blankly. After going inside, I sat on the bed and looked out the window. My first subconscious thought was: There's no Dogwood tree outside this window. It looks so bare. Then, I rubbed my face vigorously, quickly unpacked my things, and hurried to the lab. "Come here, Hazel, look at this. Help me out." "You're finally back. We just got a new project, and we're swamped." "I can finally breathe a sigh of relief." ... I watched people in white lab coats bustling in and out, and tossed my backpack onto my desk. This was the only place that made me feel grounded. This was the lab I had clawed my way into, step by step, entirely on my own. Putting on my safety goggles, I inevitably thought of Caleb again. It was just last Friday. Caleb had insisted on picking me up. Because a data set had errors, all the experiments had to be redone. He leaned against the glass door of the lab, waiting for me. Every time I looked up, I could see his profile as he frantically typed on his phone. I should have realized it then: Why was his phone glued to his hand during that time? Why did I always see him looking anxious while texting? I thought he had met someone more interesting or was planning to cheat on me. But I wasn't afraid. If worst came to worst, we'd just break up. You can't keep what isn't yours, so I didn't even bother checking his phone. I was willing to bet on him, and I was prepared to lose. But I never expected that my entire relationship with Caleb was a setup. It was a scheme from the very beginning. From the very first time we met, it was all lies. That boy who smiled faintly at me was just a tailored illusion designed specifically for me. They were trashing someone else's genuine feelings. I should have known better. Why would Vivienne Thorne ever let me off easily? "Focus, your pipette is about to hit the side of the test tube." Marcus patted my shoulder, pulling me back to reality. "I'm focused, I'm focused." But, playing with people like that... won't karma catch up with them eventually? 6 "Drink! No one is allowed to leave tonight." "See? We really did need our Hazel. We finished more than half of it, we can slack off a bit tomorrow morning." "Drink up, don't be shy!" ... I was curled up in the booth, not understanding how things had escalated to this. One second we were happily discussing data, and the next it turned into a massive drinking competition. Clara walked over to me with a glass. "Hazel, have a drink. Relax a little." The neon lights flashed. I looked up at the red lights behind Clara, mesmerized by the atmosphere in the private room. I took the glass and downed it in one gulp. It was sweet and sour, with a slightly spicy finish, but manageable. Where there's a first glass, there's a second. Clara didn't stop me. She just watched me drink, glass after glass. I burped and slumped onto the sofa. In my ears, Clara's voice sounded hazy: "You take the other guys back first..." It felt like there was a layer of gauze over my eyes. The lights were blurry, and in the haze, I thought I saw Caleb. Our first meeting was so simple. He dropped a fountain pen. Out of kindness, I picked it up and chased after him. He looked at the pen in my hand, his eyes curving into a shy smile: "Thank you. I really needed that pen. To thank you, let me buy you dinner." The breeze gently blew his hair. It was such a clumsy pickup line, but looking at his shy smile, I broke my own rules and said yes. Later, we grew closer. The more time we spent together, the more I realized we shared so many hobbies and our perspectives were incredibly similar. He could sing almost my entire playlist; we liked the same violinist; we both loved reading in the afternoons... Two weeks later, we started dating. Maybe they also talked about me like this: "Oh, that bastard daughter of the mistress? So cheap. Caleb just crooked his finger and she took the bait." ... "Cry. Let it out. It's not your fault." It was Clara's voice. She carried a faint scent of disinfectant that made me feel safe. "Cry. It's just me here. Marcus went home." "It's better when you let it out. It's better when you let it out." "In this life, you're bound to run into some garbage people. It's not your fault." ... Clara patted my back gently. My head was spinning, and unknown emotions flooded my chest. I bit my lip hard, not wanting to show my weakness, but a sob slipped through my lips uncontrollably. My vision blurred. One second, it was Caleb gazing lovingly at Vivienne; the next, it was my mother kneeling on the floor, kowtowing relentlessly. The things I thought I cherished were just a nightmare woven from someone's malicious intent. Driven by the alcohol, I couldn't suppress my emotions any longer, and I finally burst out crying. 7 "The lab is establishing a branch overseas, and I'll be heading there. Anyone who wants to go can submit an application by the end of this month." "You'll need to cover your own living expenses and tuition. Submit your applications to me by the end of the month." At the Monday group meeting, Professor Adler calmly dropped this bombshell while sipping his tea. He was older, and his hands trembled slightly when he held his teacup. Back when I took the grad school entrance exams, my written scores were stellar, but my English speaking skills were a disaster. In the massive interview hall, the moment I opened my mouth, a faint, mocking smile appeared in the eyes of several professors. When my interview ended after a rushed two minutes, I walked out numbly, wondering what I would do if I didn't get in. I never expected him to take me. The titan of biological research was my top-choice advisor. He only had two years left until retirement, and nobody wanted to produce groundbreaking results to prove he hadn't made a mistake in choosing me more than I did. Marcus and Clara kept glancing at me from the corner of their eyes. I sat frozen in my seat, my body going cold. I had known for a long time that a person can withstand almost anything—except a lack of money. I instinctively rubbed my cold hands, comforting myself internally: It's fine. It's fine. Worst case, I'll just take on more freelance work. But I also knew the truth. How could I possibly scrape together tens of thousands of dollars in just one month? After the meeting, Clara walked over. She never bothered with pleasantries; she always got straight to the point. "Hazel, you have to go overseas. This is the only chance for ordinary people like us to break through." "I don't come from a rich family either. Here's twenty thousand. I saved it myself. I'm lending it to you first." As she spoke, she pulled out her phone and transferred me $20,000. She spoke loudly, making no attempt to hide it. Marcus walked over, putting on a boisterous act. "Well, if Clara is stepping up, I can't be left behind as your senior." He transferred me $30,000 as he spoke. Fifty thousand, plus the forty thousand I had saved up, made ninety thousand. The tuition alone was $120,000, and that was after a discount. But if I worked myself to the bone this month, saving up the tuition wasn't entirely impossible. With the oral English I had practiced desperately over the last two years, I could get a part-time job once I adapted over there, and if I lived frugally, I could barely manage to support myself. I mentally calculated everything, met Clara and Marcus's gazes, and accepted the transfers without hesitation. Clara smiled immediately, her usual bright smile returning. "That's right. Don't be the kind of idiot who refuses help from the people around you." When I returned to my dorm, I was still in a daze. I stared out the window. Was I really leaving? I was sent to this city by my mother when I was ten. For college, I deliberately chose my dream school here just to escape her, and then I somehow ended up staying for grad school. Counting it all, I had been in this city for exactly ten years. There was a moon out tonight. The moonlight filtered through the curtains and hit the dorm floor. I was still a bit dazed, but there was no denying I felt lighter inside. I wanted to go. I wanted to escape. It was under these circumstances that Caleb called me. I never thought he would contact me again. Maybe to prove I didn't care, I hadn't blocked his number. Or maybe he was calling because my sister wanted to revel in the sound of my crying? I only hesitated for two seconds before answering. "What do you want?" There was the sound of wind on his end, and no one spoke for a moment. "If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up." He finally spoke: "The dogwood flowers are blooming beautifully tonight." That single sentence instantly yanked my thoughts back to our apartment. Every night, the shadows of the dogwood blossoms would project onto the floor, swaying in the breeze under the moonlight. The two complementing each other... it really was beautiful. Now, my head just throbbed. I wanted to be decisive, but I barely kept my tone in check: "What the hell does that mean? Stop calling me. We have nothing to do with each other." "I'm outside your old apartment building. Can we meet?" I had witnessed his wedding to Vivienne with my own eyes. I had seen the tender way he looked at her. And now? Barely a month into his marriage, he was coming to see his ex's ex. It just made me sick. It made me wonder what kind of garbage I had actually been in love with. He didn't know I had moved out, and kept talking: "Baby, come down and see me. Let me explain." "I had my reasons." I felt utterly disgusted and snapped: "Get lost." I hung up, deleted his contact, and blocked the number. 8 These past few weeks, I had been running non-stop between the lab and my freelance gigs, but I felt more grounded than ever before. I could escape. I never had to come back here. The moment that thought popped up, I felt happy. I went to submit my project proposals and reports, but was told they wouldn't be accepted. My heart sank. I couldn't get a clear reason why; they just said they didn't meet requirements. But they had accepted the exact same format just a month ago. Why was it suddenly a problem now? I didn't give up and went to the next company I had collaborated with before. Same result. Rejected. A total of four proposals, three biological research reports, and one new drug testing result. All the companies I had previously negotiated with rejected them, as if they had all attended the same training seminar. Even their excuses were identical: they didn't meet company standards. Holding my backpack, I waited outside the office of a company I had worked with multiple times, unable to understand what had gone wrong. When the VP I usually dealt with came out, I immediately stood up. The dizziness from sitting for so long made me feel slightly nauseous, but I didn't stop. I pushed forward through sheer willpower. "VP Davis, can we talk?" The words tumbled out. At the same time, another voice pierced my eardrums even more clearly: "Then I'll leave it in your capable hands, Mrs. Thorne. Let me know if you need anything." As the dizziness faded, the scene before me came into focus. VP Davis, who had always been so professional with me, was now completely silent, respectfully holding the door open for the person behind him. Mrs. Thorne walked out, chatting and laughing with the people around her. Her gaze fell on me imperceptibly, and the person next to her immediately chimed in: "Where did this little girl come from? Shoo, go away." Mrs. Thorne's expression didn't change. She still wore the same elegant smile she had when she walked out the door. "Thank you for your trouble. I look forward to the launch of the new drug." She was deliberately saying it for me to hear, making no secret of the reason why nobody was accepting my project proposals. The VP I knew stood respectfully behind them, bowing repeatedly. I realized then that Mrs. Thorne wasn't going to completely ignore me like she had so many times before. She stopped in front of me, acting as if she had just noticed me, adjusting her glasses with a look of feigned surprise: "Oh, what are you doing here? What is your business?" The scent of her perfume washed over me. Her makeup was flawless, while my clothes were stuck to my back from the sweltering heat. I knew I looked like a complete mess right now. I opened my mouth to explain, but the person next to her jumped in immediately: "Oh, you know Mrs. Thorne? What a coincidence! This young girl did some drug testing for our company before." Mrs. Thorne smiled again: "Well, that's unfortunate. The Thorne Group is handling the drug testing for this project." "What a shame. I guess we won't be collaborating anymore." Listening to them tag-team their insults, I gripped my reports tightly. These were things I had stayed up for nights to produce; every word was written in blood. I knew about corporate suppression, and she had a thousand ways to crush me. But this time, why did she go out of her way to reach out and strike someone she usually ignored completely? I didn't understand, and I wasn't willing to let it go. But her next words cleared up my confusion. "Come back to the family estate this weekend. Vivienne and Caleb will be there. You should come and give your blessings to your sister and brother-in-law." "Are you very short on money right now? If you come, the Thorne family will sponsor you." Her words dripped with superiority, like she was offering charity. I gripped my papers tightly and shook my head: "No thank you, Mrs. Thorne. I have to work, I'm very busy. I won't be going." Her face changed. She took a few steps forward, closing the distance between us, completely disregarding the other people present. She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. Smack. My head snapped to the side. She resumed her usual elegance, leaned in close to my ear, and whispered softly: "What kind of delusions are you harboring? Just because Caleb came looking for you once, you really thought you two were boyfriend and girlfriend?" "What right do you have to speak to me like that? You will go whether you want to or not." "Weren't you the one begging to get into the Thorne family in the first place? Who are you pulling this attitude for now?" ... I understood now. This unprovoked hostility, demanding I go to the Thorne estate when she despised me the most—it was because she knew Caleb had come looking for me. But at the same time, she reminded me of something. My mind flashed back to the woman who taught me to always maintain my elegance, kneeling in front of the Thorne family's door, kowtowing relentlessly, just begging them to take me back. Covering my cheek, I lowered my head and answered, word by word: "I'll go."
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