I Harvest the Reverse Harem My Roommate Built With My Identity

FLORENCE’S POV

On the night of my husband’s birthday, I placed the cake I’d spent five hours making on the dining table, feeling a flicker of hope. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe he’d walk in, see the effort I’d put in, and smile—really smile—like he used to. Maybe, just for one night, we could be something close to happy.

The front door beeped. My heart skipped, anticipation bubbling in my chest. I turned, ready to greet him.

Just as Mason spotted the cake, his face turned sour. 

“Didn’t I tell you not to do this?” he sighed, “I have a jet waiting to take me to Chicago right now.” 

Even tired from his long day, he looked handsome in his tailor-made designer suit, like the wealthy, powerful CEO he was. 

I took the cake plate in my hands and went up to him, a big smile on my face. But he didn’t look as happy to see me. 

“Just take one bite of the cake,” I begged. “It’s your favorite, and I made it myself!” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Florence, I only came to collect my coat. If you really want to help me, please fetch it for me.”  

It was like a slap to the face. In the five years we’ve been married, I’ve only ever seen his beautiful face show expressions of sadness or anger. I haven’t seen a smile since… since the thing happened that we don’t talk about anymore. 

Right now, I had no choice but to keep the cake aside and fetch the coat so he could go on his way. 

As he took the coat from my hand, something fell out: a small silver sterling ring. 

I picked it up, and there it was in the engraving… a name I hadn’t seen or heard in eight years. 

Jade. 

My world spun around me, and I felt like I was falling. 

“Mason…?” 

“What now?” he asked, putting on his coat. 

I held up the ring, catching the light. His expression turned cold. A refreshing change from sadness and anger, but not a change I welcomed.  

He took two steps forward and snatched the ring from my hand. 

“That is clearly not yours.” 

“What is that?” I asked. 

“Nothing! Don’t touch it again.”

“Why does it have her name on it!?” I screamed.  

His phone rang. 

“I don’t have time for this.” Turning on his heel, he practically ran out of the door, leaving me with tears streaming down my face. 

The ‘Happy Birthday’ banner mocked me from above the door. Bit by bit, I tore down all the festive decorations, cursing myself for being so naive. I had set up the house for a surprise party that weekend, but I should have known Mason would make his own plans. 

Just as he has every single year. 

As I ripped down all the banners, balloons, and flowers, I tossed them to the floor, not caring where or how they fell. 

Why did I keep trying? I had known since our childhood this would always be the way. 

Those memories came flooding back, uncomfortable, raw, and ugly. 

Back then, it was just me, Mason, and Jade. We were the unbreakable trio, absolutely inseparable. 

Well, Jade and Mason were inseparable, and I was the third wheel. The tagalong. 

I had always loved Mason in secret, always listening to him about his dreams, frustrations, and even his crushes. He told me about his perfect older brother, Clarke, who was set to take over the family business, Whitehill International. He told me about his overly strict parents who loved Clarke more. 

And he told me way too much about his crush on Jade Thorne. 

Perfect Jade. Beautiful Jade. My best friend, Jade. 

I couldn’t do anything but bury my feelings and try to be happy for them. After all, it made sense. They made a lovely couple. Both rich, both sophisticated, both part of glamorous high society. 

I didn’t fit into their world, so I had to be happy they let me be part of it.

I lied to myself that it was enough.

But eight years ago, on a camping trip, everything changed.

I remembered the cold night air, the scent of damp earth, the distant sound of crickets filling the silence. We had wandered too close to the ledge, and our flashlight batteries were close to dead.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Jade had laughed. “What if we’re found by, like, a bear? Or a murderer?”

I smirked. “You’re the one who wanted an adventure.”

She rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, well, I meant, like, roasting marshmallows. Not wandering around in the dark like serial killer bait.”

“Relax. Mason is close by, what’s the worst that could happen?”

The moment the words left my mouth, a sudden crack split through the air—a gunshot? A fallen branch? I never found out.

Jade gasped, stumbling backward, her boot skidding against loose gravel. Instinctively, I reached for her, but my own footing gave way beneath me. The world tilted, the stars above spinning wildly as we plunged into nothingness.

The scream never fully left my throat before we hit the rocks below.

Pain. Blinding, searing pain shot through my body, pinning me to the ground. The sharp scent of blood mixed with damp moss, and somewhere above, the wind howled through the trees.

“Jade?” My voice barely rose above a whisper.

No answer.

I forced my eyes open, searching, blinking through the haze. I couldn’t see anything, and before I could force myself up, I fell unconscious. 

I don’t remember much after that—only the faint glow of flashlights, the distant voices calling our names, and the hospital.

Then Mason.

He was already there when I woke up, standing stiffly by the window. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the room, the beeping of monitors the only sound between us.

He didn’t need to say it… I already knew he wished Jade had survived. 

And sometimes, even I thought the same. Then maybe Jade and Mason would have gotten their “happily ever after”. Sadly, it wasn’t so. 

The police couldn’t find Jade. They concluded she must have been swept away by the river. Her death left a silence between Mason and me, a silence filled with unspoken grief and guilt.

Ever since the accident, Jade was a name Mason could never say again. And he never did. 

Years had passed, and I thought Mason had left the past behind. Now that I was his wife, I believed my years of unwavering love would one day make him truly see me.

But here we are, eight years later, with Jade’s personal things falling out of his coat. 

Why is he still holding on to that after all this time? Is this the reason he still won’t look at me or talk to me like a husband? 

Was he ever going to love me the way he loved Jade? 

The only man who could answer me was Mason, and he was on a flight to Chicago. 

A bad feeling coiled around me, suffocating me. I could pretend I never saw the ring and just keep being the good wife I’ve been for all these years. 

But this time was different. 

I had a sinking feeling that my peaceful life was about to come to an end.