Five years into my marriage with Adrian Lopez, his long-lost love, Marilee, miraculously came back from the dead. She moved into my home, kissed my husband, and my son even started calling her "Mommy." Adrian told me she had cancer and that he needed to make it up to her. He told me to be the bigger person. My son, Leo, said to me, "You're just not as gentle or pretty as her. And she doesn't have any scars." So I gave them what they wanted. I faked my own death and disappeared, finally starting the quiet life I’d always longed for. More than a decade passed in a blur. Then, Leo Lopez enrolled in the university where I teach. He found me, his eyes red-rimmed with tears, and demanded, "If you never wanted me, why did you even have me?" 1 It was the break between classes, and the grounds below the lecture hall were swarming with students. Leo ignored the curious stares, his fingers clenching the fabric of my sleeve. The heat of his gaze made me feel like I was being roasted over an open flame. I lowered my eyes, fighting to appear calm. "You must have the wrong person, young man. I've never been married, and I don't have children." His voice was deceptively steady. "Really?" he shot back. "The same face, the same build, even the same first name. Did I get it wrong, or are you just too scared to admit who you are?" It was a dramatic twist of fate. After faking my death, I fled the country and ran into the Reeds, a couple mourning the recent loss of their daughter. They saw the resemblance between us and asked me to take on her identity. By some cosmic coincidence, her name was also Ava. Sometimes you just have to accept that another "you" exists somewhere in the world. As Ava Reed, I finished my doctorate abroad and eventually became a university professor. When Mr. Reed passed away, his final wish was to be buried back home, so I returned to the States with his wife. Not long after, she passed away too. Once again, I was alone in this vast world. As for Leo, the child I had left behind, I never imagined I would see him again. His sudden appearance caught me completely off guard. I used to imagine what he’d look like when he grew up. But standing here, he didn't seem to resemble me or Adrian. I searched my mind, but the image of his younger self was already a blur. When I walked away from the Lopezs, I left with nothing but the clothes on my back, a clean, sharp break. Every photograph I had cherished, every memory I’d saved—all of it had been turned to ash in the fire. My thoughts were a chaotic whirl. Leo’s grip on my sleeve tightened, as if he feared I would vanish the moment he loosened his hold. A colleague I knew passed by on her way to class and, seeing the situation, came over to intervene. "Mr. Lopez, I think you've made a mistake," she said gently. "It's just a resemblance. You shouldn't hold up Professor Reed's lecture." Doubt flickered across Leo’s face, and his grip slackened. I seized the opportunity, pulling my arm free and hurrying up the stairs. At the landing, I glanced back. Leo stood there, a lonely, dejected figure. He was as striking as Adrian, the kind of person you could spot in a crowd instantly. He looked heartbroken. But I felt no pang of sympathy. I just told myself, Ava, you can look back, but you can never, ever go back. 2 Teaching always consumed me, and I quickly pushed the morning's interruption to the back of my mind. Back in my office, the heating was on full blast. I took off my coat but left my scarf on. A new professor in the office across from mine pointed it out kindly. "Professor Reed, you forgot to take off your scarf." I just smiled without a word. I prepped my lessons, reviewed a thesis, ate lunch, and settled in for a nap. Leo's appearance hadn't disrupted my life. My routine was unshakable. At least, that’s how it seemed. I reclined my chair, pulled a thin blanket over myself, and checked that my alarm was set. I closed my eyes, the familiar drowsiness creeping in. But I had underestimated the psychological toll of Leo's sudden return. For the first time in years, I dreamt of Adrian and Leo. My marriage to Adrian was a business arrangement. My father had done a great favor for Adrian's father back in the day and never asked for anything in return. But then my father’s business ran into trouble, and he had no choice but to turn to the Lopezs for help. Mr. Lopez agreed, on the condition that our families be joined by marriage. Back then, I had a secret crush on Adrian. But I knew he was in love with a girl named Marilee Sterling, so I never dared to reveal my feelings. In the world we lived in, marriage was rarely about love. When I found out I was going to marry him, I was so ecstatic I couldn't sleep all night. I thought I could work my way into his heart, slowly, patiently. But halfway through our wedding ceremony, news broke that the plane Marilee was on had crashed. She had been leaving the country, heartbroken, and the flight went down into the ocean. No survivors, no remains. Adrian calmly let the wedding proceed. But I knew a wall had just been erected around his heart. And the eternally young, eternally perfect Marilee was now enshrined within it forever. I suggested we live as husband and wife in name only. Instead, he descended on me with a chilling darkness, without a hint of tenderness. He whispered venomously in my ear, "Does it hurt? Good. Suffer. Marilee is dead because of your family. You all brought this on yourselves." The night after that, my family's company went bankrupt, and we vanished from the city's high society. My father, in his despair, jumped from his office building. My mother suffered a mental breakdown and was committed to a sanatorium. I remember the night my father died. Adrian came home, staggering drunk. He stormed into my bedroom and ravaged me like a man possessed. "Ava," he snarled, "I'm going to make you hurt a hundred, a thousand times more than I do." I thought about ending it all. But Adrian saw right through me. "If you don't want your mother to suffer, you'll stay alive," he threatened. "You know I have my ways." I was trapped. I couldn't die, but living was agony. 3 My marriage to Adrian was a suffocating, airless prison. In public, we were the perfect, loving couple. We attended galas and entertained guests, always by each other's side. The media often snapped photos of him buying me luxury brands or bidding on priceless jewels at auction, dubbing him the ultimate doting husband. But behind closed doors, he would take out his rage on my body, hissing that I was no better than a whore he’d paid for. After each time, he would toss the expensive jewelry at my face. "Here's your service fee," he'd sneer. "At least you're a high-class one." I didn't know when this life would end, or how much longer I could endure it. Then, a small mercy: my mother's condition improved, and she was discharged. I didn't want her to worry, so I’d tell her how thoughtful and considerate Adrian was, what a wonderful man he was. But no matter how well I acted, how could a mother not see the truth? She left me a letter, telling me to find my freedom. Then she followed my father. My spirit shattered completely. I stopped eating, stopped drinking. No tears, no outbursts. I just faded. Soon, I fell into a coma, my vital signs slipping away. My mind, however, was crystal clear. I developed a sick, twisted craving for death. It was the only way out, the ultimate release. But Adrian wouldn't allow it. Every time I drifted close to the edge, a pair of hands would pull me back. I could hear Adrian’s voice in my ear, choked with sobs. He spoke with a gentleness and desperation I had never heard before. He said he had lost. He said that through the endless, torturous days, he had somehow fallen in love with me. How absurd. After being revived yet again, a doctor gave me the news: I was pregnant. A fruit had grown from the flower of my suffering. I felt like my life was now shackled forever. I didn't want this child. I secretly scheduled an abortion at a different hospital. But Adrian found me. He locked me away, with guards watching me twenty-four hours a day, until I gave birth to Leo. 4 The dream was long and torturous, pulling me back into the depths of my old pain. Thankfully, my alarm went off, yanking me back to reality. After my afternoon lecture, I headed to the parking garage. As I passed the athletic fields, a basketball came flying straight at my head. My mind went blank. I instinctively threw my hands up to shield my face. The impact I braced for never came. I opened my eyes. Leo stood in front of me, clutching his head where the ball had hit him. I found myself in a tangle of emotions. As much as I wanted nothing to do with him, I couldn't just walk away from a student who had just protected me in front of everyone. I took him to the campus clinic. After he was patched up, I turned to leave. "Professor Reed," Leo called out. "I helped you. Don't I deserve a thank you?" I stopped and turned back. "I already said thank you." "A verbal thank you is so boring. How about something more tangible?" He sauntered over to me. "It's my birthday today. Could you... could you have dinner with me?" His words unlocked a flood of memories I had kept sealed away. Though I hadn’t wanted Leo’s birth, perhaps it was the agonizing, difficult labor, or perhaps it was just maternal instinct, but I came to love him fiercely. Once, when he was a toddler, he almost knocked over a kettle. Without a second thought, I lunged forward and wrapped him in my arms. The entire pot of boiling water cascaded down my neck and chest. Afterwards, to soothe the terrified child, I held him and sang to him for four hours straight. I missed the optimal window for treatment. The burn left a permanent, ugly scar. I didn't care about the scar. All that mattered was that my son was safe. For him, I put on a performance, playing the part of a loving wife to give him a happy home. And we were, for a time, happy. Until he turned four. That was when the facade was ripped away. After Leo was born, Adrian had grown to love our family life. He’d often suggested having another child, but I always refused. As a result, he doted on our only son. Leo’s birthday parties became more extravagant each year. For his fourth, he invited Leo’s entire preschool class to a private amusement park and ski slope that his grandfather had built specially for him. Halfway through the party, an unexpected guest arrived. It was Marilee Sterling. I had seen her photos on Adrian's phone. She was beautiful and elegant, and now she had an added layer of mature grace. Perhaps the shock of seeing a ghost was too much, because Adrian just stood there, staring in disbelief. It was only when she called his name that he instinctively dropped my hand. It turned out Marilee had missed her flight that day, rebooking on a later one and escaping the crash. She said she hadn’t wanted to disrupt Adrian’s life, so she had stayed away. A recent job transfer had brought her back to the city, and she just wanted to see him. Old friends reunited. There was much to catch up on. Adrian set Marilee up in one of his private apartments. He didn't come home that night. I knew my life was about to be thrown into turmoil again. I just didn't expect that the one thing I held onto—my only anchor—would be taken from me too. 5 A confused Leo once asked me who Marilee was. I didn't know how to answer. "Let's wait for Daddy to tell you, okay?" I said. The next morning, Adrian came home, his steps weary and unsteady. Leo, a milk mustache on his upper lip, asked the question again. Suddenly, Adrian’s temper flared. "You're disgusting, Ava! Using our son to manipulate me!" he yelled. "Marilee has cancer! What's wrong with me taking care of her? You already have so much! Why can't you just be a little more generous, a little kinder?" I glanced at the faint, tell-tale red mark on his collar and said nothing. His outburst sent Leo into a fit of terrified tears. Sanity returned to Adrian, and he apologized. I remained silent. Marilee's company had business with Adrian's, so they started seeing each other more and more. Without me realizing it, Leo had also grown attached to her. I first noticed something was wrong one night as I was reading him a bedtime story. After only a few sentences, he started fussing, insisting that he wanted Marilee to read to him. I had no choice but to let him have his way. It was only later that I realized the three of them had built a whole world behind my back. Soon after, Marilee invited us to her birthday dinner. Fueled by alcohol, she wept as she recounted the hardships she had faced over the years. Leo, his face etched with sympathy, walked over, took her hand, and kissed her on the cheek. "Don't cry, pretty lady," he said. "Mommy stole Daddy from you, so Leo will give himself to you." A cold premonition washed over me. I sensed a distance growing between me and my son. But I clung to a sliver of hope—he was my child, born from my body. That bond was unbreakable. That last sliver of hope was shattered the day I heard Leo call her "Mommy." 6 It was an ordinary Friday. I made sweet and sour pork ribs, Leo's favorite. I simmered a chicken soup, the kind Adrian loved. I waited for my husband and son to come home. Instead, all three of them walked in together. Marilee and Adrian were holding Leo’s hands, laughing and talking as they entered. A perfect, happy family of three. "Mommy, I was a good boy at school today! You promised you'd give me a reward." I froze. I didn't remember making any such promise. A moment later, Marilee’s gentle voice drifted over. "Of course, sweetie. Mommy already has it ready for you." Adrian looked up and saw me. My expression must have been ghastly, because he felt the need to walk over and explain. "Marilee took Leo hiking the other day," he began. "They stopped at an old monastery, and a monk there said that Leo and Marilee were mother and son in a past life. So I had Leo officially recognize her as his godmother. Don't worry, no matter what, you'll always be his real mother. That will never change." A sarcastic smile touched my lips. What a flimsy excuse. And it had changed. "Godmother" and "Mommy" were worlds apart. Leo pouted. "If you don't like it, Mommy, I can just use their names when I talk. You can be Mommy Ava, and she can be Mommy Marilee." I rose from the sofa. "Don't bother. From now on, you only have one mother."
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