To stop me from "clinging" to him, Silas Sterling locked me in a mental asylum. Every time I spoke his name, I was shocked with electricity. Every time I showed a hint of jealousy toward his "Eternal Muse," I was forced to kneel for a day on a path of jagged glass. Three years later, the "rehabilitation" was complete. I became the perfect, docile wife Silas wanted—quiet, compliant, and never asking for a thing. When he brought his muse home, I thoughtfully bought them protection. When he abandoned me, bleeding and dying after a car crash, to take her out for a moonlit drive, I didn't utter a word. But then, he was the one who broke. With bloodshot eyes, he cornered me and demanded: "Can you stop acting like a corpse? I’ve treated you like this, and you still feel nothing?" "You’re going to die, don't you know that?!" I simply looked up at him and calmly pushed him away. Die? I had already died the moment he sent me to that asylum. What was the difference between being alive and being a ghost? 1. The Awakening By the hospital bed, Silas Sterling stared down at me, his face grim as I sat propped against the pillows. "Evelyn, why didn't you call me after the accident last night?" "I only found out because the hospital reached out to your emergency contact." I looked down, a bitter sense of irony washing over me. "You were out with Seraphina. I didn't want to disturb you." As expected, those words set Silas off. He punched a hole in the side table, his eyes crimson as he grabbed my collar. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?! The doctor said you have no will to live. I was terrified..." I met his gaze. It was like looking into a void. "It doesn't matter. Someone saved me." Silas froze, a flash of deep agony crossing his features. After a long silence, he spoke with difficulty. "Evelyn, there were no outgoing calls on your phone last night. You just lay there at the crash site. You didn't even try to call for help." "But the doctor said you remained conscious the entire time." He let go of me, his strength failing. I sank back onto the mattress. Closing my eyes, a tidal wave of emotions threatened to surface. When that truck came barreling toward me, I felt a strange sense of relief. I didn't want to endure this world for a second longer. Silas leaned down and pulled me into a tight embrace. "Evelyn... I love you." His hug was cold, carrying a sharp, frosty scent. I knew that even if he had heard I was on my deathbed, he would have made sure Seraphina was tucked in first. He whispered his love over and over, but I felt nothing. To him, I was a toy. A puppet. My thoughts didn't matter; only his whims did. That night, Silas stayed. He sat by my side, wiping my fingers with a warm towel. His eyes were sunken and exhausted, yet he insisted on keeping watch. But the constant pinging of his phone betrayed his agitation. Finally, he stood up and went to the balcony. I heard him murmuring into the phone, his voice dripping with the tenderness he reserved only for the love of his life. The call ended. He walked back in, looking at me through the glass door. I watched him coldly, as if he were a complete stranger. "Something came up with work," he lied, his face unmoving. Work and parents were his favorite excuses. I didn't reply. "Evelyn, I need to go back to the office." He put on his coat and leaned in to kiss my forehead. Let me guess where they’re going this time. 2. The Golden Boy and the Wallflower When we first met, Silas Sterling was the King of Crestwood University. Everyone knew he was the sole heir to the Sterling Group. He was blessed by the gods—sharp, rugged features paired with a pair of soulful, bedroom eyes. The moment he stepped onto campus, he had a legion of admirers. I was just one of them. A girl with an invisible youth, easily captivated by his brilliance. His college years were loud and vibrant, fueled by his fiery romance with the campus belle, Seraphina Vance. They skipped classes together, raced cars through the canyons, and shared a scandalous waltz at the homecoming gala. When the dance ended, Silas, ever the gentleman, kissed the corner of Seraphina's eye. It was the talk of the town. They burned through their youth with a passion that seemed inextinguishable. But their story wasn't just about each other. During a summer trip to Rome, Seraphina fell head over heels for a blue-eyed Italian. She applied for a school in Italy on the spot. They said when Silas found out, he drove his car off a cliff and nearly lost his life. After he was discharged, he posted on the school forum: He and Seraphina were just friends. And from that moment on, they weren't even that. Silas began a revolving door of girlfriends. He dated every beautiful girl on campus. He was a "jerk," but with his wealth and looks, there was always a line of girls waiting for their turn. But until graduation, he never got Seraphina back. She got married. The photos showed her radiant, leaning against her husband in a designer gown. It was sudden and loud. Silas went quiet for a long time. He re-emerged at his grandfather’s eightieth birthday gala. My family, owning a small startup that had just made a name for itself, was invited. Old Mr. Sterling patted Silas on the shoulder. "My grandson is finally at an age to settle down. He’s still a bit of a boy, I hope you’ll all be patient with him." Those words sent the hearts of every socialite in the room fluttering. But Silas scanned the crowd with an indifferent gaze, finally stopping in front of me. I was stunned. My parents, standing beside me, were ecstatic. Silas smiled and held out his hand. "Want to take a walk?" Under the jealous and curious eyes of the crowd, I followed him to the back garden. The moment we stepped outside, his warmth vanished. He looked coldly at me as I shivered in the wind, then impatiently threw his coat over my shoulders. "If I remember correctly, you went to Crestwood too?" I felt the warmth of his coat and nodded silently. I was pretty enough, but in the sea of beauties at Crestwood, I was just background noise. That he remembered me was a shock, and a tiny, secret joy. We sat on a bench for a long time that night. He smoked one cigarette after another. Though I was shaking from the cold, I couldn't bring myself to leave. To my surprise, the very next day, my father received word. The Sterlings were interested in an alliance. The stars of that alliance were Silas and me. My family’s company was growing fast and needed a powerful backer. My parents agreed without a second thought. I was swept up in a whirlwind of joy and got engaged in a daze. Before the engagement, my mother pulled me aside. "Evelyn, tell me the truth. Is this really what you want?" I looked at the diamond bracelet Silas had just sent over and nodded softly. "I want this." My mother sighed, worried about my obsession. "The whole city knows about Silas and that Vance girl. I don’t want you to get hurt." I remained stubborn. "Mom, I love him. Besides, if it doesn't work out, I can always get a divorce." Later, I learned why Silas chose me out of all those women. It was because I was plain enough, obedient enough. I wouldn't interfere with his life, and I was just the right tool to provoke Seraphina’s competitive side. Their love story was written in my blood. 3. The Bird in the Gilded Cage For the first two years of our marriage, I played the perfect Sterling daughter-in-law and the perfect wife to Silas. At his request, I quit my job and opened a quiet art gallery. A wealthy wife was supposed to keep her hands clean of the world. I accompanied him to every event, as docile as a canary. Silas gave me all the "affection" I could ask for. At a decennial auction, he spent millions on a pair of jade earrings without blinking. Faced with the paparazzi, he simply smiled warmly. "My wife liked them, so I bought them." I became the poster child for "good fortune." The daughter of a small entrepreneur, suddenly a phoenix. My family’s company rode his coattails, breaking into the Fortune 500. But only I knew the truth. Behind closed doors, Silas and I weren't the happy couple the world saw. He showered me with expensive gifts every holiday. Every new collection from the luxury boutiques was sent to me first. But I spent my nights alone in that massive villa. He was a germaphobe; no one but the cleaning crew ever stepped foot inside. He hated animals, so the only life I could keep was a single cactus. If I didn't speak, the house remained silent. Even in bed, it was a chore. I would bite my lip, letting him vent his lust on me. I had nowhere to turn because I had chosen this path. Then came the night he came home drunk and pinned me down. He was unusually tender, more attentive than ever before. As I felt myself melting, he kissed away my tears. But the name on his lips wasn't mine. "Seraphina." His "Eternal Muse," Seraphina Vance, who was halfway across the world. I panicked. I had to admit that I stood no chance against her. True to my fears, I heard from old classmates the next day that Seraphina had gotten a divorce. And she was coming home at the end of the month. The end of the month—Silas’s birthday. I waited in agony, waiting for him to hand down my death sentence. But Silas seemed unaffected. He went about his business at the office and the villa as usual. My anxiety grew by the day. I would stand by the door, waiting for him to come home. The day before his birthday, I stared at a pregnancy test with two solid red lines. I was pregnant. I thought, with a heavy heart, that I finally had a chip to win his love. But a whole day passed, and the photo I sent him remained unread in our chat. He didn't reply. Maybe he didn't even look. On his birthday, he didn't come home. I called him countless times until his phone went dead. Hearing the automated voice on the other end, my heart turned to ice. I kept telling myself he just didn't see it, or his battery died. Then, a ping. A classmate sent me a photo. In a dimly lit bar, Silas had Seraphina in his arms. He was smiling, but his eyes were filled with tears. My heart cramped. I collapsed to the floor, clutching my stomach and crying in despair. He didn't love me. How could he love our child? When Silas finally came home, he had a dark, unmistakable hickey on his neck. I stood in his way, my eyes red, asking why he didn't pick up. He stood there, his gaze unreadable. "Evelyn, you’re in no position to control me. You know exactly what our relationship is." He brushed past me to leave. My heart was in pieces, but I summoned the courage to hold the pregnancy test in front of him. "I’m pregnant." He didn't stop. "That's your decision. Just don't expect me to love either of you." 4. The Loss I chose to keep the baby. I wanted to give birth to the child of the man I loved, even if he didn't love me back. After Seraphina returned, Silas almost never came home. He gave me a black card with enough money to last ten lifetimes. I spent my days shopping and visiting art galleries across the country. The house was too empty; I couldn't bear to be there. When I reached seven months, I stopped going out and focused on the pregnancy. Silas’s parents visited once. His mother held my hand and smiled. "Evelyn, you’re such a good girl. Don't worry, Silas is just being a boy. He’ll mature once he becomes a father." Even the old patriarch visited. He looked at my belly with genuine affection. "Don't worry. Once the baby is born, the Sterlings will take care of you." The invisible woman of two years was finally being seen. They sent supplements and arranged a medical team. My every meal was strictly controlled to ensure the healthiest baby possible. Silas never came. His social media tags placed him in Europe, then Australia. They were making up for lost time. His feelings for me had ended the day Seraphina landed. But it didn't matter. When I felt the baby’s strong heartbeat, I still felt like the luckiest woman in the world. My due date arrived. I was admitted to the Sterling private hospital, into a suite that was more like a palace. On the night of the delivery, Silas still didn't show. As I was wheeled into the OR, I felt a pang of loneliness. The baby was born—a boy. He had a loud cry and rosy cheeks. Silas’s mother was so happy she took off an heirloom jade bracelet and put it on my wrist. They crowded around the baby, saying he looked just like Silas did as a child. Bitter sadness welled up in me. Silas wasn't there. He really didn't care. I named him Toby. Every mother’s wish is for their child to grow up safe and sound. But people like me aren't meant for happiness. Two days after Toby was born, he turned pale and struggled to breathe. The medical team rushed him to the NICU. He was so small, wrapped in blankets, surrounded by a flurry of doctors and nurses. Finally, the doctor took off his mask, his face full of pity. "Mrs. Sterling, the young master has a congenital heart defect. I’m afraid..." I ignored the pain of my C-section and ran barefoot to the NICU. He had only been in the world for two days. How could he die like this? A nurse wrapped me in a blanket and led me to the viewing window. "The odds of a successful surgery are very low," she whispered, her eyes red. "A newborn likely wouldn't survive it." Toby lay on the bed, connected to several machines. He was so tiny. Why did he have to suffer like this? "If we don't operate," the nurse added, "he only has a few days left." I couldn't bear to let him die, but I also couldn't bear to see him suffer through a futile surgery. I collapsed, consumed by a grief that wiped out all reason. Silas’s parents arrived again, their faces etched with sorrow. "Evelyn, you’re still young. You can have another..." "The mother is hemorrhaging!" someone shouted. When I opened my eyes again, my love was gone. Toby, perhaps sensing my despair, had passed away. Numbly, I called Silas. At that moment, I just wanted to hear his voice. To my surprise, the call connected. A bright, female voice answered. "Hello? Who is this? Silas is making me some tea. Do you need something?" My phone hit the floor, the screen shattering into a million pieces.
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