Chapter 1 I just clocked out from work and ran into an old college buddy at the subway station. He asked me, after all these years, when I was going to forgive Sarah. Sarah was my childhood sweetheart. Five years ago, we almost tied the knot. But at our engagement party, the night before we were supposed to get our marriage license, she publicly dumped me. She said she refused to be a substitute for my "white moonlight"—my one true love—and sarcastically wished me a lifetime of happiness with her. Then she grabbed her grad school junior, turned around, and walked out. I was confused and wanted to explain. I never had any "white moonlight." But she hurt me so badly I was practically numb. In the end, I left Boston. "Sarah has always had you in her heart. She said if you hadn't used her as a rebound for your ex, she would have married you years ago." "Now, as long as you're willing to apologize, she's ready to rekindle the romance." Rekindle the romance? I laughed. My kid is three years old. What romance is there to rekindle? ... Mike’s eyes went wide. He stared at me blankly, like he’d just heard a ghost story. "M-Married?" He stammered. "Your kid is in preschool?" I nodded, not wanting to waste my breath. I turned to leave. He grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly strong. "Impossible! Liam, you're messing with me, right?" He was getting emotional, drawing stares from people waiting on the platform. "Everyone in our circle knows how much you loved Sarah." "You gave up a guaranteed spot at an Ivy League for her. How could you possibly be happy marrying someone else?" I frowned. Hearing these old stories from his mouth just felt ironic. I did love Sarah. I loved her enough to give up everything. But that was in the past. "Why would I lie to you?" I asked. My coldness seemed to trigger him. "So who's your wife? What does she do? Is she prettier than Sarah? Is her family as rich as Sarah’s?" He fired questions like a machine gun, his tone laced with inexplicable hostility. As if I had married someone embarrassing. I ignored him and tried to shake off his hand. But he held on tighter, refusing to let go. "Liam, are you doing this on purpose?" "I know, you felt wronged back then." "But it's been five years. Whatever anger you had should be gone." "Do you know how Sarah has spent these last five years?" He started talking to himself, his tone boastful. "As the only daughter of the Miller family, Sarah took over the company and proved she's just as capable as any man." "She made drastic reforms, and now Miller Corp's market value has tripled! She’s the hottest new tycoon in the business world!" "So many rich guys want to date her, but she’s kept herself single for you. Besides Luke, her work partner, she hasn't even had a boyfriend." "Everyone says she's a hopeless romantic, wasting five years on a man who doesn't appreciate her." The Sarah he described was deep, devoted, and perfect—like the heroine of a tragedy. But listening to it just made me sick. I remembered a phone call I received before leaving Boston. It was from Sarah's father, Mr. Miller. His voice was as gentle and polite as always, but there was an undeniable distance. "Liam, I know you feel wronged." On the other end of the line, he sighed softly. "Sarah, that child, we spoiled her too much. She has a bit of a temper." First, he tried to placate me. Then came the pivot. "But having said that, it's normal for young couples to have friction." "Sarah is our only daughter. The pressure of inheriting the family business is immense. Our help is temporary; she needs a partner who can assist and guide her." I held the phone, silent. I understood what he meant. "Luke, that kid, I've met him a few times. He has a good head for business and is very steady." "He's accomplished academically and has a lot in common with Sarah. He's a great asset to her career." Mr. Miller's voice was soft, but every word hammered into my heart. "You, Liam, your gentle nature is good. But in Sarah's position, her future husband needs to be decisive. He needs to have... methods." Methods. So in his eyes, all my kindness and gentleness amounted to "lacking methods." I grew up in the Miller household. He watched me grow up, treated me like a son. But when it mattered, twenty years of affection couldn't compare to "career asset." In the eyes of the wealthy, matching status and business benefits always outweigh childhood bonds. I didn't say anything back then. I just quietly hung up. And then I blocked their entire family. "Liam, are you even listening to me?" Mike punched my arm, annoyed at my spacing out. "Sarah treats you so well. Are you really happy marrying some average nobody? Don't you regret it?" Regret? I looked at him like he was an idiot. "I'm living a great life." I told him, enunciating every word. "My life doesn't need anyone else to worry about it." With that, I didn't give him another chance to harass me. I yanked my arm free and walked away. Chapter 2 After leaving Boston, I cut ties with that entire circle completely. New number, new address, new city. So they all thought I was still stuck in the past. Waiting for that proud, dazzling woman to turn around and save me. But they didn't know. My life had long since turned a new page. And Sarah Miller? She was just a typo I’d whited out on the previous page. My stop arrived. I got off the train and walked to the preschool near my house. Through the fence, I saw my daughter playing on the slide with her classmates, grinning ear to ear. A graceful figure walked up to her and picked her up. It was my wife, Claire. She saw me and immediately smiled. I quickened my pace and took our child from her arms. "Honey, you're early today." She took my briefcase and naturally held my hand. "Just missed you guys, so I came back early." I smiled and pinched my daughter's chubby cheek. My daughter nuzzled into my chest and chirped, "Daddy!" The warmth of this moment was enough to ward off the cold of the entire world. Regret? What did I have to regret? Sarah and I were neighbors. We grew up in diapers together. She was two years older and always protected me. If anyone dared to bully me, she was the first to throw hands. Everyone said Liam was the apple of Sarah's eye—untouchable. I thought we would be like that forever, from school uniforms to wedding dress. Until Luke showed up. He was Sarah's grad school senior, a gentle man with an edge. He started frequently appearing around Sarah under the guise of academic exchange. Library sessions, projects, academic forums. At first, I didn't mind. Sarah was always surrounded by excellent men, but she only had eyes for me. I had enough confidence in her. The first time I felt uneasy was at a friend's gathering. We were playing Truth or Dare. Luke lost and chose Dare. The dare was to reveal a secret about someone present. His gaze swept around the room and finally landed on me, apologetic. "Liam, sorry, I'm going to spill your secret." He smiled, his tone hesitant. "Last time, I accidentally saw that Liam's phone lock screen is a photo with a girl. She's really pretty. Who is she?" Everyone's eyes instantly focused on me. And some turned to Sarah. The bright smile on Sarah's face faded. "It's my cousin," I explained immediately. "She passed away two years ago. That's the only photo I have with her." "Oh? I'm so sorry," Luke apologized profusely. "I didn't know. I really didn't mean to." He looked incredibly guilty. Everyone tried to smooth things over, and the incident passed. But that night at home, Sarah brought it up. "Your cousin? How come I never heard you mention her?" "She was always sick, lived abroad for treatment. Of course you never met her." I handed her my phone. In the photo, a young girl leaned against a hospital bed, pale but smiling gently. I stood next to her, smiling a bit stiffly. "See? We look a bit alike." Sarah looked at it for a long time before handing the phone back. "Yeah, you do look alike." On the surface, she believed me. But I could feel a seed of doubt planted in her heart. From then on, Luke would always "accidentally" mention me in front of Sarah. "Sarah, Liam has such a great personality. He has so many friends. Unlike me, my circle is so small." "Sarah, I saw Liam watching a movie with a girl yesterday. He's really popular." "Sarah, isn't Liam graduating soon? He loves to party so much, can he handle a 9-to-5 job?" He never directly badmouthed me. Every sentence was a compliment, but every sentence hinted at something. Hinting that I had too many female friends, hinting that I was frivolous, hinting that I wasn't steady. Sarah started becoming suspicious and jealous. We had our first intense argument because of this. The trigger was an academic gala Sarah insisted on bringing me to. At the gala, I ran into a senior who mentored me during my internship, so we chatted for a bit. Sarah's face went cold on the spot. She left me alone in the banquet hall and walked out. I chased after her and found her in the parking lot. "Sarah, what's wrong now?" "What's wrong?" She sneered. "Liam, when you're chatting happily with another woman right in front of me, do you ever consider my feelings?" "That was my mentor! We were talking about work! She's married with kids!" "Does talking about work require smiling that happily?" she roared. I looked at her face, twisted with jealousy, feeling strange and exhausted. "Sarah, can you calm down? I have never betrayed you. My love for you is real." "I'm not calm enough?" She grabbed my wrist. "Do you think I'm too controlling? Like a shrew? Do you think I'm not as gentle and considerate as your dead cousin?" I didn't understand why she was bringing up my cousin again. My brain was throbbing with anger. "Sarah, that's my relative within three degrees of kinship! What are you saying!" I was shaking with rage. But she just glared at me with hatred, turned around, and ran off. That time, we gave each other the silent treatment for a long time. I thought our relationship just hit a small bump. I never expected that was the beginning of the end. Chapter 3 During the week of the cold war with Sarah. I reached out to her no less than ten times, but she ignored me every time. Eventually, she just blocked and deleted me. In the past, whenever we fought, she would soften up and communicate within three days max. But this time, she didn't. I was holding a grudge too. But with the engagement party coming up, I thought she would eventually come to me. The night before the party, I received a message from Luke. It was a photo. In the photo, Sarah was drunk, leaning on his shoulder, sleeping deeply. Luke's head tilted slightly towards her, a victor's smile on his lips. Under the photo was a line of text. "Sarah is under a lot of pressure. You should be more understanding." I looked at that photo, agitated. But I still comforted myself. She was just drunk. Luke was just taking care of her. It was my fault for not being by her side. On the day of the engagement party, I dressed up carefully. I checked the venue in advance and arranged many gifts, wanting to surprise her. I found her in the lounge. She was wearing a gown matching my suit, beautiful enough to captivate anyone. Seeing me, her eyes dodged mine. "Sarah," I walked up actively, wanting to hold her hand. "Let's stop fighting, okay?" She reacted like she was electrocuted, violently throwing off my hand. The force was so strong it caught me off guard, and I stumbled. I looked at her in disbelief. Guests started entering, and the MC was ready on stage. As the main characters, we stood at the front. Spotlights hit us. I forced a smile, trying to maintain surface peace. Sarah didn't even bother pretending. She kept a cold face the entire time, not even glancing at me. When the MC asked us to exchange rings, the fatal blow came. She threw off my hand again. In front of all the guests, she questioned me with ice-cold eyes. "Is it fun treating me as a substitute?" The crowd went into an uproar. My brain buzzed. I was completely stunned. "Sarah, what are you talking about?" "Don't you know what I'm talking about?" She sneered and pulled a letter out of her purse. The stationery was pink and scented—clearly bought with care. "What is this?" I asked. "This is the love letter you wrote to your 'white moonlight'!" she shouted. "Luke found it in my study!" She unfolded the letter and read it aloud. The ambiguous and cheesy words, read from her mouth, felt like knives slicing my heart. "I didn't!" I explained frantically. "I didn't write this!" "You didn't write it?" Sarah laughed until tears welled up in her eyes. "Handwriting can be forged, but the perfume on this paper is the exact same one you use!" "Liam, how long are you going to keep acting?" I was stunned by this sudden slander and humiliation. I looked off-stage at my parents' shocked expressions, the Miller parents' ashen faces, and the guests' disdainful and pitying gazes. I felt like a joke. Sarah finished reading the letter, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it in my face. Then, she took out the engagement ring meant for my finger and smashed it on the ground. "I wish you and your white moonlight a lifetime of happiness." She articulated every word clearly. After that, she grabbed Luke, who was pretending to mediate but couldn't hide the triumph in his eyes. Under everyone's sympathetic gaze, she resolutely walked out. In that moment, my world collapsed. The farce of the engagement party made me the laughingstock of the entire Boston elite circle. Everyone said I was a scumbag playing with hearts. Leading on the Miller heiress while still entangled with a "white moonlight." Rumors drowned me like a tidal wave. The Miller family offered no explanation, letting the rumors ferment. I became the gold digger who would do anything to climb the social ladder and finally got what he deserved. I was utterly chilled to the bone by the Miller family and Sarah. I didn't explain a word. Because I knew, for someone who no longer trusted me, nothing I said would matter. I deleted all contacts, deactivated my social media accounts. Alone, I bought a one-way ticket and left Boston. This city where I lived for twenty years had nothing left for me to miss. Mike probably told Sarah that I was married with a kid. My phone started getting bombarded by strange numbers. Local ones, Boston ones. Calls, texts, non-stop. I ignored them all, blocking every single one. She seemed to be pushed to the edge. A few days later, just as I walked out of my office building, someone blocked my path. It was Sarah. Five years later, she had shed her youthful look, becoming more mature and alluring, but there was a heavy hostility between her brows. She stared at me dead-on, eyes red and bloodshot. "Why didn't you answer my calls?" Chapter 4 Her voice was hoarse, like she hadn't rested in a long time. I didn't speak, stepping around her to leave. She grabbed my arm, her sharp nails digging into my flesh. "Liam, I'm asking you a question!" she roared. It hurt, and I frowned. "We have nothing to do with each other anymore. Please let go." My detachment and coldness thoroughly triggered her. She questioned me like a madwoman. "Nothing to do with each other? You say it so lightly!" "You disappeared for five years without a word, and now you have a child with someone else. What do you take me for?" Her interrogation sounded ridiculous to me. "You'd rather marry some nobody from nowhere than come back and explain yourself to me?" She looked at me with bloodshot eyes, like an abandoned beast. "Liam, did you ever love me at all?" She asked me if I loved her. After humiliating me in front of everyone with a forged letter. After letting rumors destroy me and not caring one bit. After parading around with Luke for five years. She ran here to ask me why I didn't love her. I looked at her painful expression and felt nothing but apathy, even finding it a bit ironic. The me who stood on that stage back then, mocked by thousands, isolated and helpless—I was the one who should have asked that question. Sarah, did you ever love me? If you loved me, how could you trust an outsider over our twenty-year bond? I looked at Sarah coldly. "Ms. Miller, please let go." My polite and distant address made her tremble all over. "Ms. Miller?" She muttered to herself, then seemingly stung, became even more emotional. "What did you call me? Liam, say it again!" Her grip on my wrist tightened. "You owe me an explanation!" "There's nothing to explain between us." I tried to shake her off coldly, but failed. She was surprisingly strong. Just as we were struggling, a milky voice drifted over. "Daddy!" I turned and saw my daughter running out of the office lobby. Like a happy little butterfly, she opened her arms and ran toward me. In her hand, she held a drawing, crayons depicting three stick figures holding hands. "Daddy, look! It's you, Mommy, and me!" I instantly broke free from Sarah's grip, squatting down to hug my daughter. "Lily, why did you come out?" "Mommy said you got off work, so let me come pick you up!" I looked up and saw Claire standing not far away. She was smiling at us. And Sarah, beside me, looked like she had been struck by lightning the moment she saw my daughter. She froze, her face instantly draining of color. Her eyes were glued to the child in my arms, lips moving, but no words came out. Claire walked over, naturally kissed my cheek, pinched our daughter's face, and then calmly walked in front of me. She looked at Sarah, her gaze as calm as water. "This lady, can I help you?" Sarah seemed to snap back to reality, her gaze moving from the child to Claire's face, and finally landing on me. In that look, there was shock, pain, and disbelief. She looked at this scene in agony, murmuring. "A child..." "You even have a child..." Her voice was so light, yet filled with despair. I watched her soulless state, feeling no joy. Just a barren calm.
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