1 Three years ago, that ridiculous game of Truth or Dare completely derailed the lives of Blake and I. Her childhood friend suddenly proposed a cruel wager, claiming he wanted to test the authenticity of our love. The condition was that after our divorce, we wouldn't see each other for three years. I honestly thought she'd refuse such an outrageous demand. After all, we'd argued about it countless times. Her inappropriate closeness with her childhood friend had always been a thorn in our side. But she agreed without hesitation, even confidently telling everyone that she believed I was hers for life and we'd remarry in three years. I remained silent then, knowing in my heart that it was the last chance I'd ever give her. Now, three years have passed. She stands before me, a bouquet of roses in her arms, a confident smile on her face as she calls me "honey" and says she kept her word, she's back for our remarriage. … Blake's lips curved into a confident, slight smirk. "Are you mad?" "Alright, alright, I'm here, aren't I?" "Come on, don't be mad." Her voice was sweet, doting, assuming I was just being childish and upset for attention. Just like old times, she reached out to embrace me. I took another step back, my expression hardening. "Ms. Blake, please keep your distance!" Her hand froze in mid-air, her gentle gaze still fixed on my face. "Really mad this time, huh?" "Name your price. Whatever it takes to make it up to you, I'll do it." She still confidently believed that a few sweet words would win me over, just like before. As she spoke, she took another step closer. Each step she took, I mirrored, retreating further. The conquering glint in her eyes intensified. "Blake, three years is a long time. Enough to change many things." She nodded in agreement. "Indeed." I backed up until I hit the wall, no more room to maneuver, my back pressed against the cool plaster. She placed her hands on either side of my head, cornering me, playing that old game again. Back when we were dating, she loved to pin me against a wall like this, kissing me deeply under the moonlight. Three years ago, after losing the dare, she'd divorced me at her friend's insistence. Three years of no contact, not a single text or call. And now, she presumes I'd just sit around, waiting for her to come back and remarry me! A cynical smile touched my lips. Before I could speak, her phone rang. She pulled it out. The screen displayed a contact: "My Little Prince." It was her special name for Brody. I'd seen it countless times, just as I'd seen her lovingly stroke his head, saying he'd always been her "little prince" since they were kids! Completely oblivious to my feelings as her husband then. She answered immediately. "Vivi, boo hoo hoo, come quick, my stomach hurts so bad." Brody's whiny cry came through the phone. Blake's eyes instantly filled with worry. "Don't be scared, I'm coming right back." She hung up, then quickly brushed her hand over the top of my head, as if soothing a docile cat. "I need to check on Brody first. I'll come find you later." Before the words fully registered, she was gone. Brody, ever the showman, flaunted their relationship on social media, as he always did. The photo showed him lying with a sweat-drenched forehead on Blake's lap. She was gently rubbing his stomach. His caption read: "She's always loved me most, ever since we were kids. No matter how important the event, or how important the person, if I'm not feeling well, she's always the first to rush to my side, offering care and love. She truly is the best woman in the world!!!" I casually tapped the 'like' button. Not just on this one, but on every single one of his posts over the past three years. Three years, 1095 posts showing off their "love," and I'd liked them 1095 times. He found new ways to show them off every day. For instance, he didn't work; Blake gave him a secondary credit card to spend as he pleased. He could live in the house Blake and I once shared. My belongings, he'd use if he wanted, or toss if he didn't. In these three years, he and Blake had done everything a couple would do. I knew he posted them specifically for me to see. Each 'like' was my way of showing contempt and indifference. But Brody, in his warped mind, thought I was jealous, furious, desperately trying to get attention. The next time I saw Blake, she was with Brody, drinking coffee at my café. They wore matching caramel-colored outfits. Blake, who usually favored formal business attire, was dressed in trendy, casual clothes today. I used to suggest we wear matching outfits, but she'd always say she was used to suits and didn't want to change her style. Brody surveyed my café with a look of surprise. Blake, puzzled, asked me, "I gave you so much money, why are you doing such hard work?" When we divorced, I asked for half of our assets. She gave them without a moment's hesitation. I stopped making the coffee, my gaze flat as I looked at her. "Because I want to. And it's none of your business." Blake's expression didn't change. She still thought I was just mad at her. Brody offered a disingenuous greeting. "Hey, Ash, long time no see. How's it going?" "Good." Brody seemed surprised by my calm. Blake's phone rang, and she turned to step outside to take the call. With just Brody and me left, his pretense dropped. His smile transformed into a triumphant sneer of provocation. "Don't play hard to get. But don't get too happy either." He looked down on me, a slight chuckle on his lips. "Even if you remarry Vivi this time, what good will it do?!" "Her mother doesn't like you. Her ideal son-in-law has always been me." "Vivi only wants to remarry you out of a sense of obligation." "Even this remarriage, she sought my approval first." "And you'll have to sign a prenuptial agreement." "Oh, and I personally drafted that agreement." He pulled a prenuptial agreement from his bag and placed it in front of me. I glanced at it dismissively. One clause stated that all of the Blake family's assets were none of my concern. After marriage, I wasn't allowed to call Blake's mother "Mom," only "Madam." In public, I couldn't claim to be the patriarch of the Blake family; I had to declare myself merely her ex-husband. These outrageous terms made me laugh sardonically. I pushed the agreement back to him. "If Blake's mother likes you so much, why are you still without a title?" "Three years, and Blake still hasn't committed to you. How pathetic." Brody, furious and embarrassed, instinctively raised his hand to slap me. But just then, Blake's approaching footsteps sounded behind him. He changed his expression faster than flipping a page, tears welling up, a mix of aggrieved and understanding. "Ash, I truly hope you can remarry Vivi." "As her childhood friend, I just want her to be happy." "This prenuptial agreement is just a formality. Don't be mad, okay?" He was still as dramatic as he was three years ago. The moment Blake saw him cry, her mind would turn to mush, unable to distinguish right from wrong. "Brody, what's wrong?" Blake pulled him closer, her eyes filled with concern for him. Brody shook his head, feigning a wronged expression. "Nothing, it's my fault. Don't blame Ash." The more he spoke like this, the more Blake believed I'd bullied him. "Ash!" she snapped, her face cold. "Apologize!" Her tone was an undeniable command, like ordering a servant. A cold laugh touched my lips. She frowned in displeasure and chastised me. "Brody and I grew up together, he's like a brother to me!" "He's a very important person to me. Can you please stop being so hostile towards him every time!" "Even if it's for my sake, can you be kinder to him, please?!" My face remained expressionless. I'd seen this scene countless times over the past three years. I was utterly sick of it! Just as I was about to ask them to leave, my phone on the counter vibrated with a video call. The screen displayed: "My Sweetheart Daughter." I quickly grabbed the phone, and my two-year-old daughter's adorable face appeared in the video. "Daddy, I miss you." I quickly exchanged a few words with her. As Blake reached for my phone to talk to my daughter, I ended the call. "What daughter?! Ash, you have a daughter?!" Blake's eyes widened. She reached for my phone again, but I dodged her. My face was cold as I spoke to her seriously once more. "Don't bother me. You two are twisted, crazy people!" She didn't get angry; instead, she just indulged her self-serving belief. "Alright, don't be mad." "I know you're doing this to annoy me. That call was on purpose, wasn't it?" I instantly understood that a person as self-absorbed as her wouldn't believe I no longer loved her until she saw my wife with her own eyes. Suddenly, she spoke to me. "Mom's birthday is in a few days." "Your cooking is excellent. Prepare some of her favorite dishes." "Use this opportunity to mend your relationship with her." So, she knew. During our three years of marriage, I had been bullied by her mother for three years. Blake's mother looked down on me, someone from a humble background. Even though I was Blake's legal husband, Blake's mother never allowed me to attend any Blake family dinners. In fact, if she was present, I wasn't allowed to sit at the table. I didn't like her either. Our relationship was precarious, a mutual state of ignoring each other. In that dynamic, Blake had always remained silent. A mocking curve touched my lips. I deliberately asked, "Blake, just hypothetically." "What if I cooked a feast, and your mother still wouldn't let me sit at the table?" She hesitated before replying, "You're the junior, just say a few nice words to butter her up." "You know how my mom is. All bark, no bite." Brody deliberately suggested, "Ash, it's not beneath a junior to beg an elder. Madam is most susceptible to being begged on her knees." He was being sarcastic, implying I should kneel. I chuckled derisively, my eyes fixed on Blake's dark ones, my voice serious and earnest. "Blake, three years. Things have long changed." "I'm married, and I have a child." Then, I turned to Brody. "Perhaps you should do more begging. You might just get into the Blake family." Brody burst into tears, feigning distress. "It's my fault for speaking out of turn." He covered his mouth and ran out. Blake's face suddenly turned ugly. She snapped at me, "How much longer are you going to be stubborn?!" Then she rushed out to chase Brody. My phone vibrated. It was a text from my wife: "Honey, project finished. Home tomorrow afternoon." I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought, once Blake saw Eleanor herself, she wouldn't be so self-absorbed about me anymore. The next day, as soon as I arrived at the café, the preschool teacher suddenly called. She said my daughter had been taken by someone claiming to be her biological mother and godfather. My heart leaped into my throat. I raced to the Blake family estate. There, I saw Brody had put my daughter in a dog kennel, playing with dogs and cats. My daughter was allergic to animal fur. She couldn't touch either dogs or cats. My daughter was crying uncontrollably, her face flushed to her neck. Red allergy spots were already appearing on her neck. Brody ignored my daughter's distress. Instead, he pushed the cat towards my daughter's arms. "Don't be scared, Annie. This cat is three years old, so she's like your big sister." "She's your godfather's favorite cat. Give her a hug, don't be rude. Crying so loudly will scare the kitty." My daughter raised her hands in fear, trying to avoid it. The black cat's sharp claws scratched several marks on my daughter's face. My daughter cried even louder. Brody said gently, "You've scared the cat," but his eyes held a threatening glint as he glared at my daughter. "Who told you to touch my daughter?!" I charged forward, enraged. I was just about to reach for my daughter when Blake suddenly appeared, wrapping her arms around me from behind, pulling me back a few steps. "Brody was just being kind, trying to give her more playmates." "Ash, you adopted this child, didn't you? It must be hard raising her alone." My eyes were bloodshot with fury. I spun around and slapped her. A clear handprint bloomed on her face, which was already on the verge of "cracking." "My daughter is allergic to cat and dog fur!" "Her playmates are never animals!" I turned again to pick up my daughter, but Blake grabbed my wrist with a firm grip. Brody wore a pitifully innocent expression as he looked at me. "It's my cat's third birthday today. She really likes playing with kids." "I just thought, with Annie coming back to the Blake family, they should get acquainted first." As he spoke, his black cat clawed wildly at my daughter. It left crisscrossing scratch marks on my daughter's arms, neck, and face. He deliberately added, "Don't worry, my cats and dogs are regularly vaccinated. They're very clean." "I even sleep with my cat every day." Seeing my daughter's face, crying so hard she was almost gasping for breath, my heart raced with anxiety. I struggled against Blake's grip. She held me tighter, soothingly. "Children shouldn't be raised too delicately." "The Blake family fortune will be hers someday. We need to build her courage, she shouldn't be afraid of a mere cat." Suddenly, my daughter's eyes closed, and she collapsed. I screamed in panic, "She's going into anaphylactic shock!" Blake finally realized the seriousness of the situation. I rushed over, picked up my daughter, and ran to the hospital. Blake and Brody followed. While my daughter was being treated in the emergency room, the doctor handed me a consent form for risks. "Please, the child's father or mother needs to sign this." Blake eagerly spoke up. "I'm the child's mother. I'll sign it!" As she reached for the consent form, a commanding voice echoed from behind. "Since when was my daughter your daughter?!"
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