Chapter 1 At the wedding rehearsal, Preston’s adopted sister suddenly started dry heaving. Panic stricken, he scooped her up and rushed her to the ER. Thirty minutes later, my phone rang. "She’s pregnant." I was about to say congratulations, but his voice was terrifyingly calm. "It’s mine... She went through a bad breakup that night. She was soaked from the rain, shivering. I just held her to keep her warm, I didn't think..." "We have to keep this from Mom and Dad. I’m taking her to my place to look after her. We’ll figure it out after the baby is born." "We need to postpone the wedding for a year. You handle the guests. Explain it to them. Apologize." My throat felt tight, like someone had their hands around it. I couldn't squeeze out a single word. He continued, oblivious. "Oh, and you need to quit your job immediately. Bella needs care. We can’t have any accidents over the next few months." I suddenly laughed. "Sure. Okay." He hung up, satisfied. But he didn't know about the bet I made with that guy. If I wasn't married by thirty, I’d marry him. And today just happened to be my thirtieth birthday. ... Maybe my calmness was too weird, because three seconds after hanging up, Preston called back. "Harper, I’m sorry. I know I messed up. But trust me, I only see Bella as a sister. The baby really was an accident." I let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Right. Deep sibling love. So deep you kept each other warm right into bed. Touching." The line went silent for a moment, followed by his frustrated sigh. "I get that you’re mad. You can yell at me, hit me, whatever. But Bella is still in grad school. If people find out she’s an unwed mother and can’t name the father..." "She’s an orphan. Even though my parents adopted her and treat her like blood, the Huntington family won't accept a scandal like this. They’ll kick her out." "So, I was hoping... you could claim the baby is yours. Since you’ll be quitting to stay home anyway, no one will suspect it isn't yours." I tilted my head back, forcing the tears back into my eyes, my voice raspy. "Preston, let’s not get married." "Not get married?" He was silent for a few seconds, then exploded. "Harper, are you serious right now? You’re the one who’s been nagging me about a wedding after dating for five years!" "The entire social circle knows you’re Preston Huntington’s fiancée. Do you think marriage is a game? Harper, when did you become so immature?" I could imagine his brows furrowing. Sure enough, the threat came next. "Miss High-and-Mighty, I’m asking you one last time! Are you seriously saying you don't want to get married?!" My fingers gripped the phone so hard my knuckles turned white. I gave a bitter smile. "Yeah. I don't want you anymore, Preston." He scoffed coldly. "I’m not in the mood for your drama. Suit yourself!" He slammed the phone down. I stood in the center of the banquet hall. Under the shocked gazes of the crowd, I ripped the veil off my head, turned around, and ran out. Preston’s parents quickly blocked my path. His father, Mr. Huntington, struck first. "Harper, have you lost your mind? Just because Preston took his sister to the hospital, you’re ruining this wedding? You want hundreds of guests to laugh at the Huntington family?" His mother sneered, chiming in. "I said from the start they weren't a match. The Huntingtons are a family of old money and intellect. The Vances are just nouveau riche upstarts. No class." "But Preston insisted, so I couldn't stop it. Look, now we’re a laughingstock!" Mr. Huntington scoffed. "Good! Better not to marry. Save us from her temper offending people later and ruining our reputation." Preston was the one who cheated, yet these two were blaming me. I clenched the veil, my fingertips trembling. "Preston canceled the wedding. As for the specific reason... you two should ask him. I’m too embarrassed to say it." Hearing it was Preston’s idea, they suddenly felt justified. "Even if Preston canceled it, you’re the bride—you just run off without a word? Shouldn't you apologize to everyone publicly?" "How did your parents raise you? You don't even understand basic etiquette. How can you be a Huntington daughter-in-law?" I took a deep breath. "I won't be marrying into the Huntington family. If you two will excuse me, move." "You!" Their faces changed color. They clearly didn't expect the usually docile me to be so tough. I didn't bother with them anymore, sidestepping them and heading straight for the dressing room. Mrs. Huntington screamed behind me, "You uneducated trash!" Inside the dressing room, someone was already waiting. He was wearing a fitted tracksuit that highlighted his broad shoulders and long legs. The sunlight hit him from the side, outlining a sharp profile. Only the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him; he probably hadn't slept well. Seeing me enter, he uncrossed his arms and stood up straight, that familiar, punchable smirk on his lips. I looked away. "I thought someone swore they’d never attend my wedding?" He suddenly leaned in close, his warm breath tickling my ear. The moment our eyes met, I suddenly saw the stubborn teenage boy from ten years ago. "Harper, a bet is a bet." I pursed my lips and didn't make a sound. He instantly got anxious. "You forgot?!" "I don't care. We’re getting married in three days. If you don't show up..." He paused, like he was throwing caution to the wind. "I’ll come to the Vance house and be a live-in husband!" After saying that, as if afraid I’d reject him, he quickly bolted out the door. I suddenly laughed out loud. This idiot. Of course I remember the bet. Our families are old friends. We grew up together. We were too close to be lovers. Ten years ago, he confessed to me. I said let's just be friends. He looked heartbroken and insisted on making a bet. I didn't expect that, in the end, I’d actually lose. Chapter 2 I had just changed out of my wedding dress when Preston sent me a photo. All my belongings were piled up like trash at the gate of his villa. The red heirloom quilt my mom hand-stitched for the wedding was the most glaring thing there. It was stuffed haphazardly into a clear plastic trash bag, the bright red satin stinging my eyes in the sunlight. [Text: Come get this junk immediately!] [Text: If you don't want it, I’ll have the maid toss it.] I stared at the screen, my fingertips going cold. He knew exactly how to manipulate me. I could leave everything else, but I had to get that quilt back. [Text: Fine. I’m coming.] My mom spent three months on that quilt. She’s a woman who never touches a needle, yet her fingers were pricked full of bloody holes. The night before the wedding, she smiled and shoved the quilt into my arms. "Baby, be happy forever." But when I arrived, the gate was empty. It had only been thirty minutes. I told him I was coming, yet he was in such a rush to kick me to the curb? Rage flared up. I pushed open the villa gate and stormed in. The moment I opened the front door, I froze like I’d been dunked in ice water. Bella was sitting on the edge of the dining table. Preston’s hands were on her waist, his face pressed against her small baby bump, his expression blindingly tender. "Preston," Bella gasped softly. "The baby kicked me." Preston immediately pressed closer, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way I’d never seen before. "So naughty, just like you were as a kid." When he looked up, his gaze was soft enough to melt stone. "If only the baby has your eyes, too." Bella pursed her lips and smiled. Preston practicedly kissed her lips, his tone suddenly turning guilty. "Are you really sure about leaving after the baby is born? Actually... you could stay. I can take care of you and the baby. The kid is so small, how can they grow up without their biological mother?" Bella put a finger to his lips and shook her head. "Preston, if I don't go, what about Harper?" Hearing my name, Preston visibly paused, then his face darkened. "Her? She’s just talking about breaking up to throw a tantrum. Once the baby is born, she’ll be begging to come back and help raise it. She’s a merchant’s daughter; she only cares about profit. What does she know about dignity?" "Did you forget how desperate she was to be my girlfriend back then? That pathetic look on her face... thinking about it now makes me sick." My tears rolled down silently. So, the courage I mustered to confess back then had disgusted him for all these years. The Huntingtons are a famous family of artists and scholars. Preston is the youngest acclaimed fine artist in the city. Five years ago, he brought his portfolio to my dad, looking for an investment for his gallery. My dad couldn't stop praising him and introduced us. I fell in love at first sight. I shamelessly pestered him to teach me art history. He used to point at me and scold, "Stupid. Zero talent!" I’d grin and say, "Then be my boyfriend. We complement each other." He glanced at Bella, who was studying with her head down nearby, then suddenly grabbed my hand and let out a self-mocking laugh. "Fine." I jumped up and hugged him, completely missing Bella running out of the room or how stiff his arm went. Now I understand. His heart always belonged to Bella. No wonder he refused to teach me later, refused to let me even enter his study. My chest felt sour. I wanted to turn and leave, but I remembered Mom’s quilt. I couldn't leave it. "Harper!" Preston suddenly turned his head, a mocking smirk on his lips. "Why are you sneaking around at the door? I threw your stuff out. Regretting it now?" I dug my nails into my palms. "Where is my quilt? Give it back." He paused, his face getting colder. "A raggedy old blanket? Like I’d want it?" "My mom sewed that by hand." My voice started to shake. "Give it back, and I’ll leave immediately." Seeing I was about to cry, he frowned. "You’re crying? Are you psycho? Is it that serious?" "Yes, it is!" I screamed, the tears finally crashing down. Chapter 3 Preston tugged at his collar irritably, looking like he wanted to say something but held back. Beside him, Bella suddenly acted like she remembered something and spoke up urgently: "Harper, don't yell at Preston. I told the maid to bring your stuff into the guest room." As she spoke, she gently stroked her belly, tears instantly welling up. "Harper, can you please not move out? If it’s because of this baby... I-I can get an abortion. His existence was a mistake anyway. None of you welcome him..." Before she could finish, she was sobbing uncontrollably. "I won't allow it!" Preston’s voice nearly cracked. Trembling, he pulled Bella tightly into his arms, then turned to glare viciously at me. "She can leave if she wants, but don't you dare touch my child! Right now, you and the baby are my everything!" "Harper, if this is why you came here, get the hell out!" I let out a cold laugh and walked straight to the guest room. The wedding quilt was thrown carelessly on the floor. It was covered in stains and vomit. The dragon and phoenix embroidery was filthy. I pointed a shaking finger at the quilt. "Bella, explain this!" She shrank back timidly. "I didn't mean to. I just got sudden morning sickness..." She bent down as if to pick it up. "Harper, don't be mad. I’ll wash it for you." But as soon as she leaned over, she cried out in pain. "Ah! My stomach hurts." Preston charged over and shoved me hard. I fell backward. The back of my head slammed into the bedpost. Pain exploded. Warm liquid trickled down my forehead. I bit my lip to keep quiet, just smiling up at Preston, wanting to see if he had a heart at all. He was holding Bella, his eyes filled with extreme disgust. "How much is it? I’ll pay! I’m begging you, stop causing a scene. Do you get off on torturing me and Bella over some worthless junk?" It felt like someone punched a hole in my chest. Even though he was always cold to me, he had never looked at me with such hatred. He must truly despise me now. Suddenly, it all felt pointless. Why stay here and be hated? I gave up. The quilt was dirty. I didn't want it anymore. This dirty man, I didn't want him either. I propped myself up. "Preston, I don't need your money." As I turned to leave, he suddenly grabbed me, a hint of helplessness in his expression. "You’re in a bad mood today. Go back to the Vance house and cool off. I’ll pick you up in three days." I shook off his hand and walked out quickly. This home we built for years... in the end, I was just a passerby. ... The Vance Residence. I had already explained the wedding fiasco to my parents. Seeing me return, Mom let out a long sigh of relief. "Honey, honestly, thank God! What if you found out after you were married?" "The Huntingtons always looked down on us for being merchants, yet that 'scholarly' family raised such shameless trash!" Dad sighed softly. "Don't talk about it. She’s hurting. I already told my assistant to pull all investments from the Huntington Gallery. From now on, the Vances have nothing to do with them!" I was hesitating on whether to mention Liam, when Mom suddenly spoke up. "By the way, Liam came by today. He even brought the dowry." She pulled a velvet box from the coffee table drawer. "That boy moves fast." Inside the box was a pair of heirloom jade bracelets. That's when I truly realized: the wedding in three days? Liam was serious. Chapter 4 Night fell. Bella sent me a text. [Bella: Harper, come back.] [Bella: I’ll move out right now. I won't keep the baby.] [Bella: You and Preston have five years of history. Don't ruin it because of me. I’ll feel guilty for the rest of my life.] I stared at the screen and sneered. If she wanted to cause drama, she could go to her brother. Why bother me? I replied with two words: [Suit yourself.] Then, I blocked her. After that, I leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, zoning out, feeling a lingering sense of loss. My phone vibrated. A video call request from Liam popped up. "Harper," he said, his eyes sparkling on the screen. "Give me a finger heart." I paused. "Why all of a sudden..." A finger heart? So cheesy. "I don't care," he leaned into the camera like a brat. "Right now." Amused by his childish expression, I helplessly made a quick heart with my fingers, getting goosebumps myself. He immediately clutched his chest, eyes closed in an exaggerated expression of ecstasy. When he opened his eyes, he winked his right eye at me. My heart skipped a beat. "Look outside. My return gift." He chuckled, and the video cut off. The night sky outside suddenly lit up. Hundreds of drones formed a shimmering heart, then transformed into words: [Happy Birthday, Harper.] Tears instantly blurred my vision. The drama today made me forget my own birthday. But he remembered. Even if it was a bit cheesy, I felt his sincerity, and I loved it. As for Preston? Every year for my birthday, he just wrote "Happy Birthday" in calligraphy on a piece of paper. He didn't even sign my name. "My calligraphy has collection value," he always explained. "If I write your name on it, no one will want to buy it later." This year, he simply said, "Too busy planning the wedding. No time to write." But the so-called wedding planning? I tried on dresses at twenty shops alone. I compared quotes from thirty hotels alone. I stayed up all night hand-writing over three hundred invitations alone. The only thing he participated in was when I tried on the main gown. He managed to spare five minutes, checking his watch the entire time. It turns out his lack of love was always traceable. My heart tightened painfully. I tilted my head back and blinked rapidly. I had cried too much today. At least on my birthday, I wanted to keep a shred of dignity. While I was sleeping, my phone buzzed. I groggily answered. Preston’s voice roared through the speaker. "Harper! Get to the hospital right now! Something happened to Bella!" I woke up instantly. Was her text serious? Without even changing, wearing pajamas and slippers, I rushed out. When I got to the ward, I saw Bella leaning against the headboard, perfectly fine. Preston was gently peeling an apple for her. They looked like a peaceful painting. Meanwhile, I had one foot slipping out of my shoe, looking like a clown. Seeing me, Preston suddenly exploded. He dragged me to the bedside. "Kneel and apologize to Bella!" I looked up in shock. Before I could react, he kicked the back of my knee hard. My knees slammed onto the floor. The piercing pain paralyzed me for a moment. "Preston! Are you crazy?" I glared at him. His eyes were churning with terrifying rage. "Bella slit her wrist! It was almost two lives lost! Don't call me crazy—I want to kill you right now!" Bella started sobbing on cue. "Preston, I texted Harper to apologize, but she blocked me. She must hate me to death. She doesn't want to see me again. What's the point of living..." I despised her, but I didn't want blood on my hands. I looked at her closely. There was a half-centimeter cut on her wrist. It had iodine on it and was already scabbing over. This was slitting her wrist? A wave of sorrow washed over me. I twitched my lips. "Preston, if I came tomorrow, would her wound have healed already?" He blew up instantly. "Harper! How can you be so vicious? If I hadn't found her in time... do you know what happens when a pregnant woman loses too much blood?" This must be what they call 'concern breeds chaos.' A tiny scratch made him lose his mind, yet he was blind to the blood drying on my forehead from earlier. He must really love Bella. My heart felt like it was weighed down by stones, sinking straight to the bottom. I frowned and said nothing. This seemed to completely enrage him. He threw the fruit knife at me, snarling. "Since you think it's no big deal, cut yourself with the same wound. Taste the pain yourself. This is what you owe Bella!" I looked at him in disbelief. This was the man I had loved wholeheartedly for five years. In this instant, my heart turned to ice. Just one cut, right? I’ll pay her back. Lowering my eyes to hide the tears, I picked up the knife and lightly sliced my wrist. Bella screamed. I struggled to stand up and held my hand in front of Preston’s face. "Is that enough?" Blood dripped down steadily. His eyelashes trembled rapidly. He glanced at it with disgust. Then he turned to comfort the frightened Bella, muttering a curse under his breath. "Who told you to cut so deep? You’re hopelessly stupid." I smiled silently and stumbled to the door. He suddenly threw out a sentence: "Harper, reflect on your actions at home! I’ll pick you up in three days." I laughed until tears fell. Preston, we will never meet again.
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