At 18, I walked in on my sister, Chloe, lifting Julian’s shirt to touch his abs. He just stood there, shirt loose, letting her do whatever she wanted. At 22, Julian married me because his family told him to. But everyone knew that even with a ring on his finger, he couldn't let go of his intense love for Chloe. Years later, I asked for a divorce. He was silent for a long time before signing the papers. "If you ever need anything, just ask." At 28, I returned for Julian and Chloe's wedding. He glared at the man beside me, his eyes dark. "You were so eager to divorce me back then... was it for him?" 1 "I heard Sarah is back." "Wait, wasn't she the one who asked for the divorce?" "Now that Julian is the head of the Sterling Group, I wonder if she regrets it." "What's there to regret? She stole her sister's engagement in the first place. This is just returning the husband to his rightful owner." ... I hadn't even stepped into the private dining room when I heard my name. For three years, rumors about me hadn't stopped. They said I was playing hard to get. Even my parents thought so. On the day of the divorce, my mom pulled me aside. "Since you're divorced, don't contact him anymore," she warned. "Your sister hurt her leg; she needs Julian right now. Don't upset her." When I looked down, silent, she added, "This marriage was supposed to be your sister's anyway. If she hadn't gone abroad to study, you wouldn't have had a chance." My sister, Chloe, and Julian Sterling were the golden couple of our circle. Everyone envied them. But on the eve of the wedding, Chloe ran away. The news of the merger-marriage between our families was already out. Facing immense pressure, the Sterling elders decided to swap the bride. Me. I don't know how they convinced him, but Julian eventually agreed to marry me. For three years, we lived like a normal couple. But everyone knew he never got over Chloe. He never let me into his study. Once, he forgot to close the door. I peeked through the crack and felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave. The walls were covered in wedding photos of him and Chloe. I had never seen Julian look like that. Vibrant, adoring, focused. His eyes were full of her. That was when the thought of divorce first crossed my mind. The day I finally decided to leave, I overheard him on the phone. He was coaxing someone, his voice gentle and soft. "Yeah, don't be scared. I'll be there in ten minutes... Don't walk on it. Wait for me. Be good." When he turned around, he saw me. "Dinner's ready," I said calmly. "Eat before you go." He paused briefly, then continued walking. "You eat. Don't wait for me." Just as he reached the door, I called his name. "What?" Impatience flashed across his face. "Julian," I said. "Let's get a divorce." 2 By the time my parents heard the news, we had already signed the papers. Julian didn't shortchange me; he gave me half his assets. My parents summoned me home in the middle of the night. They interrogated me like a criminal, demanding to know why I was so cruel as to take half of Julian's money. "Sarah, how did I raise you? Did you marry Julian just for his money?" Chloe stood to the side, leaning on crutches, wiping away tears. "Sarah, do you blame me? Do you blame me for coming back and taking Julian..." "Enough," my parents cut her off. "Julian was supposed to be your husband. If you hadn't run off, your kids would be in school by now." Chloe loved Julian, but she loved dance more. Shortly after accepting his proposal, she got an offer from a prestigious dance company in Paris. She abandoned Julian without hesitation. For three years, they barely spoke. Until that night. Julian got an international call. He was resting his head on my shoulder, catching his breath. He answered it in front of me. Because we were so close, I clearly heard a woman sobbing on the other end. Julian froze. One second... five seconds... ten seconds... It took him thirty seconds to react. He grabbed a robe and stormed out. He didn't come back that night. The next day, I learned from my parents that Chloe had an accident while dancing and broke her leg. Julian personally flew out to bring her back. Even though she lived with our parents, Julian handled everything related to her personally. My parents even tried to "counsel" me about it. "Don't take it to heart. Your sister can't dance anymore; she's devastated. Only Julian can comfort her." My parents had always favored Chloe. She was beautiful, smart, and talented—a singer and dancer. I was just a bookworm. Boring. Unskilled at charming people. Everyone revolved around the injured Chloe. Including my husband. He gradually lost patience with me. One evening, he promised to pick me up but left me waiting in the pouring rain for two hours. I got sick with a high fever. Julian had to leave Chloe to visit me at the hospital. My mother saw this as me manipulating him. She screamed at me hysterically, "Because you called Julian away, your sister almost killed herself last night! You're healthy! Why do you have to compete with a disabled person?" I looked at her in disbelief. "But Julian is my husband..." "So what? This marriage belonged to her! You stole her husband!" But back then, she was the one who begged me to marry him. Before Chloe left for Paris, she came to me, trying to convince me to marry Julian. "Sarah, I know you like him. This is a good opportunity, isn't it?" "Better to keep it in the family. You don't want Julian with some stranger, do you?" I kept my head down, silent. Chloe got anxious. "Are you just going to watch our family go bankrupt?" "I'm begging you, Sarah. Or are you worried I'll come back and fight you for him?" My expression shifted. She sighed in relief. "Don't worry. Once I leave, I won't contact him again. I swear!" She kept her promise for the first three years. But in the end, she forgot her vow. 3 After the divorce, I moved south, cutting off contact with my family for three years. Recently, they reached out to tell me Julian and Chloe were getting married. Chloe called me herself. "Sarah, please come to my wedding. Only if you're there will I feel like I haven't wronged you." I was silent for a long time. "Okay." The day I arrived home, the weather was beautiful. I dragged my suitcase through the door, and Chloe rushed out of her room. "Sarah!" Her steps were light. In the late autumn chill, she wore only a thin silk nightgown. Behind her, Julian followed with slippers and a coat. "Why can't you remember to wear shoes? Next time, I'm going to..." His voice stopped abruptly. He saw me. It was the first time we'd seen each other since the divorce. "Long time no see," I nodded politely. Three years later, Julian looked the same, but his eyes held less coldness and more tenderness. He nodded back, then looked away, draping the coat over Chloe. "You guys talk. I have work." Chloe took my arm affectionately. "I was really afraid you wouldn't come. I'm trying on dresses tomorrow. Come with me?" I pulled my arm back, face blank. "I'm busy tomorrow." Chloe pouted. "Is it important?" "Yes. Very." She thought for a moment. "Then let's move it to the day after. Come back early tomorrow..." "I'm not staying here," I interrupted. "Tell Mom and Dad I'm busy these days and won't be staying over." I picked up my suitcase and walked out without looking back. I hadn't gone far when a car pulled up slowly beside me. The window rolled down, revealing Julian's handsome face. "Get in. I'll drive you." I refused politely. "Thanks, but no." He was persistent. I kept walking; he kept driving alongside me. "It's hard to get a cab here. Get in." Looking at the endless road ahead, I compromised. I got in and gave him the address. He frowned. "Why aren't you staying at the Golden Bay condo?" "I don't like it." The Golden Bay apartment was part of the divorce settlement. He didn't know I had already sold it. Julian's eyes narrowed, but he didn't ask further. When we arrived, I got out. Julian followed. He grabbed my suitcase and wouldn't let go. "Let's go." "I can take it myself." I tugged the handle. It didn't budge. He looked around at the run-down neighborhood. "Financial trouble?" This place was several tiers below Golden Bay. "No." He ignored me and dragged the suitcase toward the entrance. "Which building? Which floor?" Julian is stubborn. Once he decides something, no one can change his mind. I gave up and led the way in silence. Elevator. Hallway. Door. I took the suitcase. "Thanks. It's not convenient to invite you in." "Wait." I turned back. "How have you been these years?" I looked into his earnest eyes and felt a wave of disorientation. I didn't remember him ever speaking to me in that tone. Just as I was about to answer, the door opened from the inside. A tall, strikingly handsome man appeared without warning. Broad shoulders, narrow waist—walking pheromones. He reached out and pulled me into his arms. "What took you so long, hmm?" He leaned in to kiss me. Just as his lips brushed mine, Julian's angry voice rang out from behind us. "What do you think you're doing?!" But the man didn't stop. He deepened the kiss, then wrapped his arm around me and looked lazily at Julian. But his words were for me. "I've been gone for five minutes and you already found a replacement? You really are trouble." I pushed him. He didn't budge. I looked at Julian. "Let's talk another time." Julian's hands balled into fists, his lips pressed into a thin line. The precursor to rage. But before he could explode, I was pulled inside. The door clicked shut. The man loomed over me dangerously. "If I remember correctly, you landed at 11 AM. It's 2 PM. Three hours, and you're already meeting the ex-husband?" I poked his rock-hard abs. "Evan..." He caught my hand. His voice dropped. "Don't try to distract me." I gripped the hem of his shirt, looking down silently. A large hand tilted my chin up. As our eyes met, Evan laughed in exasperation. "I haven't even started punishing you, and you're crying?" I sniffled. "I missed you..." 4 After the divorce, I went south and opened a bed and breakfast in a small town. The winters were warm, the summers cool, and the people were kind. I started to heal. Within a year, my B&B gained a reputation, and business picked up. Evan was the most reclusive guest I'd ever had. He stayed in his room most of the time. He only came out to the terrace when no one was around. At first, I worried he was suicidal and kept an eye on him. One day, while I was sunbathing in the courtyard, he walked up to me, a half-smile on his face. "Do I really look like I'm about to end it all?" I looked up in surprise. He lay down on the lounge chair next to me, lazy and relaxed. "I heard your phone call." I was mortified. The night before, I told my best friend, "That guy is so handsome. If he offed himself, it would be a real waste." Before I could apologize, Evan asked, "You don't look like a local. Why open a B&B here?" I lied. "Too much money, too much time." A low laugh escaped his throat. It sounded nice. I couldn't help but look at him. It was a pleasant view—sharp jawline, sculpted profile as he looked at the sky. Julian was handsome, but Evan was in a league of his own. Sensing my gaze, he turned. We locked eyes. I don't remember who looked away first, but the atmosphere shifted after that day. The day things changed, we went hiking. A sudden storm caught us on the way down, and we returned soaked to the bone. That night, I had a high fever. I tried to get water and broke a glass. Evan kicked the door open. Maybe it was the fever, but I swear I saw terror on his face. When he saw I was just sick, he visibly relaxed. I was bedridden for five days. Evan took care of me for five days. He moved his instruments into my room, and I found out he was a singer. "Are you going to leave soon?" I asked, holding a cup of hot water. "Do you want me to leave?" he countered. I didn't answer. He took the cup from my hand and kissed me. His hot breath scorched my skin. I gripped his shirt, my heart pounding out of my chest. After that, Evan became the unofficial master of the B&B. Changing bulbs, fixing chairs—he did it all. Guests teased him. "You're so handy. The beautiful boss should marry you already." Whenever that happened, he'd ask me, "So, when are you going to marry me?" I always laughed it off. He acted like he didn't care, but in private, he punished me in ways that made me beg for mercy. He never showed any. I thought we would live like that forever. But one day, Evan disappeared. I asked the guests. They said, "Where else could he go? A guy looking like that in his industry? Probably ran off with a sugar mama."
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