It was 3:00 AM, and I was getting ready to head out for my night shift at the convenience store. Suddenly, a notification from a short-video app popped up on my phone. The headline read: [Show off the most bizarre gifts your significant other has ever given you] The comment section was on fire. People were roasting their partners for sending everything from live goldfish to ugly Christmas sweaters. But one comment stuck out like a sore thumb: “My wife’s gift is pretty unique. She got me my own exclusive Black Card~” Unlike the handmade photo albums or custom pillows others were posting, the card in the photo was matte black metal. Engraved in small gold letters were the words: “Baby’s Exclusive VIP,” “Unconditional Love 24/7,” “Present Card to Summon Wife.” I couldn't help but shake my head. Are rich people really this competitive about showing off their relationships now? I was about to exit the app, but amidst a sea of rowdy comments, the user posted a video screenshot taken inside a bar. My finger froze mid-air. It felt like all the blood had been drained from my body. Under the dim, hazy lights, a woman was leaning back in a booth, holding a cocktail glass, her head turned slightly as she smiled. I would know that face anywhere, even if it were burned to ash. It was my wife, Sarah, who was supposed to be working the night shift at the hospital right now. Chapter 1 The replies in the comment section were still scrolling wildly. “Holy sh*t, is this card real? That is insanely loaded.” To prove it, the boy quietly started a live stream. In the frame, the woman, wearing a form-fitting knit dress, was behind the bar mixing a drink. Seeming to notice someone was filming, she turned back and smiled gently. Revealing Sarah’s familiar face. The boy sounded triumphant, keeping his voice low: “See that? My wife not only gives me a black card, but she also mixes drinks for me personally. Her friend owns this bar, so it’s basically our private date spot~” “Okay, I’m gonna go drink my wife’s special 'Love Potion' now~” The stream cut abruptly, leaving netizens howling that they hadn’t seen enough. Only my fingers grew colder, inch by inch. I picked up my phone, set it down, and picked it up again. Finally, unable to help myself, I dialed the familiar number. It rang for a long time before connecting. Sarah’s voice sounded slightly exhausted: “Liam? What’s wrong?” “Nothing… just wanted to ask, what are you doing?” Sarah let out a soft sigh: “What does it sound like? I'm on the night shift. Just finished rounds, I’m exhausted.” “Is Maya asleep? Remember to bolt the door when you leave.” “Oh, right, today is our third anniversary since we signed the papers. Once money isn't so tight, I’ll make it up to you with a real gift.” I glanced at the time on my phone. 3:17 AM. Just as I was about to speak, a boy’s whining voice came from her end: “Honey, you promised to focus on me tonight. Why are you picking up calls again?” Sarah’s breath hitched. Her tone turned frantic: “There’s… there’s an emergency patient. The family keeps cornering me to ask about his condition. I have to go.” “And… try not to call when I’m on night shifts in the future, it’s not convenient.” With that, she hung up in a hurry. A bitter smile twisted my lips. Was it inconvenient, or was she afraid of making someone unhappy? Putting down the phone, I looked around this small, dilapidated rented apartment. After three years of marriage, this was our entire “marital home.” The paint was peeling in places, the sofa was sourced from a secondhand market, and the springs had collapsed. When I married Sarah, she had just lost a massive amount of money due to a malpractice lawsuit, burying herself in debt, and she was already saddled with a three-year-old daughter left by her ex-husband. She worked at the hospital during the day and took night shifts, wishing she could be on the clock twenty-four hours a day. Because I had to take care of the child, I couldn't hold down a full-time job, so I took on piecemeal freelance gigs. Every night, after the child fell asleep, I went to work the night shift at the convenience store, thinking I could earn a little more, bit by bit. The jacket I was wearing was three or four years old, the collar washed out until it was white, but I couldn't bring myself to replace it. Thinking of that high-end bar in the video, that exquisite cocktail, and the tenderness Sarah showed while mixing drinks for someone else. It felt like my chest was stuffed with waterlogged cotton. Heavy. Suffocating. “Ugh, this is so annoying. It’s the middle of the night, why aren't you sleeping? What are you just staring at?” My stepdaughter, Maya, suddenly poked her head out of the bedroom, frowning at me. “My mom works so hard to make money for this family, and all you know how to do is slack off? You won't even sleep properly?” “The food you make tastes awful, and you’re so poor and trashy. You don't compare at all to—” I’ve asked myself over these past three years if I’ve done enough. I’ve been utterly submissive to her. But I don't know when it started, this child’s eyes became filled with disdain whenever she looked at me. I always assumed she missed her biological father. But at this moment, I caught the anomaly in her words. “Compare to what?” Maya rolled her eyes, refusing to say more. She slammed the door shut, leaving behind only, “Anyway, he’s better than you.” Seeing I was about to be late, I could only tell her to lock the door and rushed out. The night shift at the convenience store was grittier than I imagined. Shelves needed stocking, expired food needed removing, and I had to deal with drunks coming in at midnight to buy beer. By the time the hand-off was done, the sky was growing pale. I was so tired I could barely straighten my back, ready to clock out. The store manager suddenly walked over with a dark expression: “Liam, I looked at your inventory sheet from last night. The numbers don't match. Don't leave yet. Re-count the whole thing.” I froze. I had clearly double-checked every item three times. But to avoid having my wages docked, I had to suppress my sleepiness and start counting again. Halfway through, I went to the back warehouse to get stock and heard the manager on the phone: “Mrs. Vance, don't you worry. I did exactly as you said. I’m making him count slowly, he won't be leaving anytime soon.” “Guaranteed that young master will get a good night's sleep without being disturbed.” “Of course, of course. That thirty thousand is enough to cover my son’s wedding.” I leaned against the shelf, my legs heavy as lead. But no matter how heavy they were, they couldn't compare to my heart, which was growing icy, piece by piece. Subconsciously, I opened my phone and pulled up the home security camera feed. In the frame, that boy from the photo last night was walking out of our bedroom wearing a bathrobe. Hickeys were dotted all over his neck. He wrapped his arms around Sarah’s waist from behind, whining: “Did you drop Maya off at school?” “Honey, since nobody’s here right now, come back to sleep with me for a bit~” “Stop it, I need to send you back. If Liam comes back and sees…” Sarah said no, but she didn't push him away. The boy curled his lip disdainfully: “So what if he sees? Isn't that loser just a free nanny you found to take care of Maya? Even your marriage certificate is fake.” “Right now, I’m not your brother-in-law. I’m your legally protected husband~” “When are you finally going to kick him out? I want to live with you in the open.” Sarah paused, then gently stroked his head: “Taking care of a child is too tiring. Liam is used to suffering since he was a kid; he’s better suited for this than you.” “You only need to be responsible for being spoiled by me. Just be a carefree kid.” My head buzzed. The phone almost slid out of my hand. Looking at that young, arrogant face, I finally remembered who he was. Sarah’s ex-husband’s younger brother—Tyler. When Sarah and I got married, because we had no money, we just got the certificate; we didn't have a reception. Tyler came over once, saying he was checking in on behalf of his brother. He held his chin high, speaking to me in a commanding tone: “Take good care of my sister-in-law and Maya from now on. Don't let them suffer.” At the time, I thought it was only natural for a brother-in-law to care about his brother’s widow. Now I understood that the arrogance in his eyes was the look a master gives a servant. I stumbled home in a daze. The door was unlocked. Sarah was sitting on the sofa. Standing next to her was a woman dressed professionally in a suit, speaking respectfully: “Mrs. Vance, I’ve already sent Master Tyler back.” “It’s just… yesterday was at least your wedding anniversary with Liam. Are you really not sending him anything?” “For Tyler’s birthday, you sent a sports car.” Sarah shook her head casually: “No need. Liam is someone who came up from poverty. If he finds out I have money, he’ll inevitably get greedy and try to funnel money to his family back home.” “Didn't I choose him in the beginning because he knows how to raise a child, has no background, is easy to control, and won't abuse Maya?” “As long as he honestly raises Maya until she’s an adult, I’ll give him a sum of money, enough for him to retire back to his hometown.” “As for Tyler, I promised his brother I’d take care of him. Naturally, I can't let him suffer.” Sarah and I met because of an accident. That year, I was dragged back by my family to an arranged matchmaking. The other party was a woman in her late fifties who said she’d spend hundreds of thousands to make me her live-in son-in-law. I refused, and was pinned to the ground by the bodyguards she brought, getting beaten. Sarah was passing by and shouted at them to stop. She shielded me behind her, looking coldly at that gang: “He is a human being, not merchandise for you to buy and sell.” At the time, she was newly widowed, depressed all day, and didn't know how to raise a three-year-old child on her own. She would frequently ask me, someone who came from a large family with many siblings. And I, having been used as free labor by my family since childhood, was indeed the best at raising children. To repay her, I often helped her take care of Maya. The oppression from my parents, the cold eyes of relatives. It left me insecure and starved for love down to my bones. Sarah was the first person to respect me, to protect me. Knowing full well she carried debt and still had her late husband in her heart, I married her anyway. I even quit the job I loved to better take care of the child. But I never imagined that after three years of devotion. In her eyes, I was just a free nanny. I couldn't even compare to her late husband’s brother. I… was just an outsider. “Liam? When did you get back?” Sarah’s voice suddenly rang out, carrying a hint of panic. She gave a look to the woman in the suit, signaling her to leave. Then she managed a smile: “This is a colleague from the hospital. Shift just changed, she came by for a glass of water.” I didn't speak. I just found it laughable. What hospital colleague would be wearing a custom suit worth tens of thousands of dollars? Sarah, seeing me silent, walked over to support me: “How are you this exhausted? Did the manager make trouble for you again?” She stuffed a breakfast burrito into my hand, her tone carrying guilt: “I’m sorry, Liam. It’s all my fault, dragging you into this kind of life.” “This is something you usually can't bring yourself to buy. Consider it my belated anniversary gift to you.” “Once the debt is paid off in the future, I’ll make it up to you properly.” She was right. Over these three years, the money I earned went either to her “debt repayment,” or to buy Maya clothes and sign her up for tutoring classes. I couldn't bring myself to buy even a bottle of water for myself. But after watching the security footage this morning, I knew. The moment I sent Maya to her tutoring class, she and Tyler picked her up right after, and the three went out for sushi and shopping. There was even one time she said she was taking Maya to her hometown to visit graves, but she actually went on vacation to Miami with Tyler. For Tyler’s birthday, she could casually send a sports car. And I, I only deserved a breakfast burrito. Perhaps in her heart, this was exactly what I was worth. I suddenly felt very tired. “Sarah, we…” Before I could finish, her phone suddenly rang. She glanced at it, violently shot to her feet: “Liam, eat something yourself. I have an emergency, I have to go.” A short while later, Tyler’s social media account updated. In the frame, Sarah was kneeling by the bed, gently rubbing his stomach for him. Her eyes were tender, like she was another person. “Hee hee, I just ate too much this morning and got a little bloated, and this woman got all nervous and rushed over to rub my belly~” He once again showed off that black gold membership card. An extra line of small text was added: The most precious little ancestor. My stomach suddenly churned violently. I rushed to the bathroom and dry-heaved for a long time. The phone rang; it was the school: “Hello, is this Maya Vance's parent?” “Kindergarten is having a parent-child sports day today. Can you make it on time?” I froze for a moment. Sports day? Maya didn't tell me. But in the end, this was a child I had raised with my own hands. I went. Arriving at the school, as soon as I stated my identity, the homeroom teacher was stunned: “You’re saying you’re Maya’s father? Then who is that gentleman inside?” I followed her gaze to the playground. Tyler was crouching next to Maya, helping her tie her shoelaces. A few little kids crowded around, sizing up my washed-out hoodie, asking disdainfully: “Maya, didn't you say your handsome older brother was your dad? Who is this trashy, ugly old guy?” “Which one is real? We don't play with liars!” Maya looked at Tyler's branded streetwear, then looked at my old clothes. Her face flushed dark red. She ran over in a huff, giving me a violent push: “Who told you to come?!” “You’re just our nanny, you’re not worthy of coming to my sports day! My daddy is over there! Get out of here right now!” “Or else I’ll make my mom fire you!” Tyler, as if he had expected this long ago, curled his lip in a triumphant smile. I looked down at Maya. When she was three, her body was weak. She often had fevers in the middle of the night. The doctor said it might be because she missed her father. My heart ached for her endlessly. I held her all night long, telling her stories, coaxing her to sleep. When she was sick, I wouldn't sleep or rest, guarding her, finding new ways to cook things she liked to eat. It could be said this child grew up in my arms. But this child, whom I regarded as my own, along with her mother, played me for a fool. Three years. I never got a single call of “Daddy,” yet Tyler got it easily. Yesterday wasn't his first time spending the night. Otherwise, Maya wouldn't have been in such a rush to usher me out. Perhaps, the bond of raising a child really cannot compete with bloodlines. It felt like a hole had been punctured in my chest. I spoke softly: “No need to kick me out. I’ll leave on my own.” Finishing, I didn't acknowledge Maya’s slightly changing expression, and turned to leave. Walking to the stairwell corner, Tyler caught up. He walked up to me with a smirk, raised his hand, and slapped me right across the face: “What do you think you are? You dare come here to mark your territory?” “You heard Maya, right? You’re just a free nanny. Even the marriage certificate is fake.” “I am her legal husband.” “Sarah and I have known each other for over a decade. Maya is my brother’s child; she has Vance blood in her.” “Our bond is something you can never compare to. You only bring them shame.” Tyler got closer, lowering his voice: “You don't actually think that child Sarah miscarried years ago was an accident, do you?” My eyes violently went wide: “What did you say?” “Sarah planned that herself. She originally could have saved her fertility, but she told the doctor to remove it.” “Because I told her, if she had your child, you would abuse Maya and fight over the estate in the future.” “Had to eliminate future trouble. She heard that, and she meekly complied.” He looked at me triumphantly: “But I’m different. I’m her late husband’s brother. Our child will have Vance blood.” “That’s why she was willing to get a certificate with me. She was thrilled when she found out I got her pregnant.” “She said we are a real family. As for you, and that dead child, you’re both outsiders.” “I heard you worked all kinds of gigs over these years to support the household? Tsk. Calling it 'free' is flattering you.” “Talk to a pathetic loser like you actually makes me feel dirty.” “If I were you, I’d get lost sooner rather than later, and stop getting in the way of our family’s life.” My hands were clenched and shaking. That miscarriage. That child. It was the deepest pain of my life. I held the Sarah who had just miscarried, crying my heart out, saying over and over that it was my fault. Three years of companionship. I thought we were the closest people in the world. But she set up barrier after barrier, guarding against me like I was a thief. For what? Why did my sincerity have to be trampled on like this? I raised my hand, but before it could fall, I was violently shoved aside from behind: “What are you doing?!” My knee already had an old injury; I didn't keep my footing and rolled all the way down the stairs. Sharp pain shot through my elbow, and a warm stream flowed down from my forehead. Blood covered my face. Sarah’s eyes went wide in shock: “Liam! Are you okay? I didn't mean to…” She wanted to come help me, but Tyler grabbed her arm tightly, saying pitifully: “Maya had her sports day today, and the teacher couldn't get in touch with Liam no matter what. Those kids were calling Maya a fatherless bastard, so I came for her sake!” “But he came and started yelling at me for minding other people's business, said I was an outsider, told me to get lost, and wanted to hit me!” “My brother is in heaven. If he saw me being bullied like this, how heartbreaking would that be…” Sarah’s face instantly darkened. She looked at me coldly: “Tyler is Maya’s biological uncle, they have a blood relation. If he’s an outsider, what are you?” “I don't know what you’re busy doing all day that you can't even attend your child’s sports day. Do you even deserve to be a parent?” “Tyler was kindly helping out, and you have the nerve to hit him?” I stumbled to my feet, wiping the blood from my face. I let out a cold laugh: “Sarah, is playing me this fun?” “If I’m not worthy of being a parent, then a lying cheat like you, who tricks people’s emotions…” “An animal who personally murders her own child, deserves to be a mother even less!” Sarah’s expression changed, just about to speak. Tyler tugged at her sleeve: “Maya is still waiting for us, don't keep the child waiting alone. She’s wearing new shoes today; standing too long hurts her feet.” Sarah nodded, leaving behind one sentence: “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Tyler is much more sensible than you.” “Since you dislike going to Maya’s sports day so much, you don't need to come in the future. Tyler will go.” “In the end, she’s not your biological child; you can't compare to blood relation.” Finishing, heartbroken that Tyler’s feet might hurt. She helped him up and walked away without looking back. The glass window nearby reflected my pathetic appearance. Dried-out hair, gaunt face. Because of chronically staying up late, my skin was rough as sandpaper. But I never complained. In the end, it only bought me a scam, and the status of an “outsider.” It needs to end. I used the money saved from my freelance gigs to get my wound bandaged at the hospital. Went home to pack my bags—actually just a few old clothes. Booked a ticket on the nearest train. Sarah, I'm not playing your “pretending to be poor” game anymore.
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