Hypocrisy

On our seventh wedding anniversary, Harrison Drummond arrives with the woman he's been seeing behind my back. Tears fill Kate McCauley's eyes. Before I even have a chance to speak, she drops to her knees in front of me. "Ms. Kershaw, love isn't about who came first or last. Harrison and I care for each other with all our hearts. Please, let us be together." I turn to look at Harrison. With a heavy heart, he lifts Kate into his arms. The man who's always obsessed with cleanliness now wipes her tears away, not caring about the mess she leaves behind. Without raising his gaze, he says, "Kate has been by my side without any official name or title. I owe her that much. Don't worry, she's not after anything else. Having her here is no more than adding an extra pair of cutlery at the table." With that, he carries Kate into the bedroom and closes the door behind them. He seems to have completely forgotten that today is our wedding anniversary. Does he even remember the other woman who followed him without status seven years ago? I stare at the glowing "Happy Anniversary" sign resting on the table. In that instant, I realize there is no future left for us.

On the day of my daughter’s dance competition, a madman suddenly charged at her with an iron rod. To protect her, I took dozens of hits, and my arm was brutally broken. My husband, William Zafron, caught the madman on the spot and rushed us to his private hospital. In the hospital room, I woke up from the pain and tried to call for William. Then I overheard the doctor asking him, “Weren’t we just replacing the knee joint? Why did you hurt Ms. Nina and kill Ella?” “Nina only has a broken arm and some wounds. Her injuries aren’t fatal.” William replied, “Ella’s purpose was to be an organ carrier for Sophia’s daughter. Now that she has fulfilled her role, there’s no need for her to live. “After all... Sophia’s daughter is my own child.” That was when I realized that my daughter was just an organ carrier to him. What he did not know was that Sophia’s daughter was not even his.

From as far back as I can remember, I knew my mom hated me. She gives me sleeping pills when I'm three. When I'm five, she tries pesticide instead. But I'm hard to get rid of. By the time I'm seven, I've already learned how to fight back. If she refuses to give me food, I flip the table so no one can eat either. If she beats me up until I'm on the ground, writhing in pain, I go after her beloved son the same way, leaving him bruised and bawling. That's how we stay locked in battle until I turn 12. Everything changes when my youngest sister is born. I'm clumsily trying to help with her wet diaper when Mom suddenly shoves me against the wall. The look in her eyes holds both disgust and fear. "What were you trying to do to my daughter? I knew it. You take after that monster of a father. Why didn't you just die with him?" I hold my aching head. For the first time, I don't fight back. I believe she's right. My existence is a mistake. I should never have been alive.

The entire world froze. Overnight, the city plunged to –40 °F. Yet, in the middle of this frozen apocalypse, my mother, my sister and her son moved into the home I bought for my marriage. Even my own husband took my sister’s side. They threw me out into the freezing cold to scavenge for supplies. I came back frozen half to death, and they had not even saved me a bowl of warm soup. Then, my sister shoved me straight off the fifth-floor landing. In that bitter cold, my body hit the ground and shattered like glass. When I woke again, I found myself back in the week before the apocalypse struck. This time, I resolved to cut them all off. I would make every last one of them pay.

My boyfriend’s cousin went to live at his place after her divorce. Not only did she have a five-year-old, but she was even pregnant. She regarded my boyfriend as her support as if it were her right and blamed me for everything. She thought I had taken away her cousin. At a family gathering one day, her son splashed a drink at me and yelled, "You’re not allowed to steal my dad!"

On the day the gauze was removed from my eyes, I joked that I was blind. "Don't be afraid if you can't see. I'll take care of you my entire life." My husband and best friend took care of me while I was in the hospital. They sincerely made that promise to me. However, when we got home, all three of us were on the same bed. My best friend rode on top of my husband breathlessly. They were caught up in their intimacy as they thought I could not see. My best friend was worried I would suspect something and spoke up to eliminate any suspicion. "Uhh… Summer, I'm just giving your husband a massage." I was so disgusted that I wanted to throw up, but I held myself back. Once they were done, I was about to find an excuse to leave the room when my five-year-old suddenly ran in. "I miss you so much, Mom!" Hearing that warmed my heart, and I opened my arms to hug him, but he ran past me and lay down next to my best friend instead. The 'happy family of three' were all smiles and threw me looks of disgust. I could no longer tolerate this. When I called my lawyer, I told him to bring me the divorce papers. If they wanted to become a family so badly, I would make their wish come true. I just did not know if my best friend could afford to earn a decent enough income to take care of my useless husband and son.

I had been dating Andy Lawson for five years. He had gone bankrupt, and during the worst of it, we had to sleep in parks and scavenge leftovers for food. After a hundred days of that life, I was just going to the blackmarket to sell some blood for money when someone sent me a video. [Surprise.] It was a livestream site, set up for rich kids to prank the common folk—and a video of me was pinned to the top. My finger trembling, I tapped on it and saw myself hidden in a corner of a park, munching on leftovers to nourish my frail body. On the split video, Andy was reclining against the armchair of a five-star hotel and savoring his gourmet menu. "Oh, this is amazing! All Andy has to do is say that he's sick, and she's selling her blood for him!" "On the sixteenth prank, she fell into the ocean… And on the fifteenth, she was sent flying in a car crash! Why is she so hard to kill?" "Well, Andy already made it clear that if she survives until the end, he will marry her and swear off women!" "One month to go! Will she die from the pranks, or marry into the Lawson family with pomp and circumstance?" "I'm betting fifty mil that she dies tragically! Hahaha!"

I had my meal and was about to leave my sister's restaurant, but the manager stopped me. "Sorry, sir, but you haven't paid your tab." I never saw this guy before. He probably had no idea who I was. Kindly, I explained, "Put it on your boss' tab. She knows what to do." The manager instead gave me a look of derision. "Sir, we're a 3-star Michelin restaurant. We do not put anyone's bill on another person's tab." He handed me an itemized bill. The guy had it ready and printed. I went through the list. The meal alone cost 75 grand. The 'dining utensil gleam maintenance fee' ran up to 45 hundred. There was also an exclusive air purifier fee, which would cost 75 hundred. And there was a 'VIP calm headspace service fee' that ran up to 15 grand. Those were the ones that stood out, but they were far from the last. I had no idea my sister was running an extortion gig. Mirthlessly, I laughed. "I'm your boss' brother. Tell her she's talking to me when she comes home." The manager did not let me go. "Just say you can't afford it. You're not the first one to try and claim you know Ms. Grayheim. I know leeches like you well enough." I texted my secretary. 'Tell my sister she either fires this guy, or I pull my funds out.'

In the third year of Michelle Lowe’s relationship with Sigmund Lloyd, the man she had been financially supporting, her family went bankrupt. To save the company, her father tried to force her into an arranged marriage. That very night, she packed up everything she owned, ready to elope with Sigmund. However, when she arrived at the exclusive club where he worked, she saw him elegantly socializing with powerful guests. His refined manners and quiet confidence made him look nothing like the poor young man she’d been supporting for the past three years.

I went abroad for three years to build a lab and save my husband's company from collapse. After endless struggles, I finally cracked the technical problems and developed the core technology. When I returned home with that breakthrough, I saw the airport video board plastered with the same impossible headline—my husband was getting married. I felt a hot, furious ache and took a taxi straight to the venue. … A woman who had cared for our household for years blocked me at the gate and sneered. "Who do you think you are, showing up at the Stone family's wedding? Get out of here, or I'll get security to throw you out." For a moment, I stood rooted, but then the bride appeared, walking out of the villa in a wedding gown. It was the woman Adrian Stone had once told me was dead—his first love, Evelyn Sutton. She wore my wedding ring on her finger and looked at me with pure contempt. "You want to make a scene at my wedding?" she said. "If you do, you're really asking for trouble. My husband, Adrian, won't hesitate to take care of you." I folded my arms and let out a cold laugh. "Adrian's getting married? Funny, I don't recall getting an invitation."