ZeldaA prickling sensation crawled up my spine. Something was wrong. As the man reached for me, I reacted instinctively, swinging my bag and hitting him squarely in the face.“Someone, help! Help!” I yelled, my voice ringing out across the crowded club.The commotion drew attention, but the two men were quick. One grabbed the woman in the red dress, while the other wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close.“Baby, stop making trouble,” he said loudly, his voice dripping with false concern. “Let’s not quarrel, okay? It’s all my fault! Sorry, my wife drank too much…”He was trying to drag me away, to make it look like a lovers’ spat.Panic clawed at me. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, that the people I’d hoped would notice were buying his act, turning back to their dancing.“I’m gay!” I shouted, desperation giving my voice an edge. “Let me and my wife go! We’re a couple! We don’t even know you!”I struggled against his grip, trying to reach the woman in the red dress. “Let
ZeldaI woke up in the big bed at the Mansion, disoriented. The last thing I remembered was being in the car with James, the argument hanging heavy in the air. I looked down. My clothes had been changed. They were clean and fresh. Aunt Jiang, no doubt.My lips felt strange, a little sore, with a faint medicinal scent, like antiseptic. Someone had been… cleaning them? The thought made me uneasy.Aunt Jiang bustled in.“Madam, you’re finally awake! I’ve been to check on you twice. Breakfast is ready. Please eat quickly, so you can take it to your husband.”“How did I get home last night?” I asked, my voice still thick with sleep.“Mr. Ferguson carried you back himself, Madam. He took care of you all night before returning to the hospital. He wouldn’t let me help. I don’t know if his wound reopened. He looked so worried. His face was so pale when he left…”My brow furrowed. Guilt, sharp and unexpected, pierced through me. Aunt Jiang’s words painted a picture of James, concerned and carin
ZeldaLilian Wenger's red eyes and embarrassed flush were hard to ignore. She’s a dancer of some renown, and those in the arts often possess a certain nobility. But the comfortable life she was accustomed to was clearly weighing on her, the thought of losing it all outweighing any sense of shame.I never expected Susan to still be lying to her parents, still clinging to the fiction that James is her child’s father. My brow furrowed.“Please?” I prompted.“James has stopped investing in the Wenger family. It was agreed upon, but he’s cut us off without warning. Our funding has dried up…” This was news to me.James hadn’t breathed a word of it.“Zee, for your grandmother’s sake, you can’t just stand by and watch the Wenger family crumble. Grandma and Grandpa built that business.”Grandmother Wenger passed away when I was five. My memories are hazy, but I remember her warmth and her adoration. It’s undeniable that my adoption by the Fergusons was tied to my connection to the Wenger famil
My good mood vanished, replaced by a chilling premonition. Even though the number was unknown, I knew it was Susan. I frowned, ready to block it, but another photo arrived. Annoyed, I almost swiped it away, but my finger slipped, enlarging the image. My heart lurchedIt was a surreptitious shot, clearly taken on a plane. The man, only half his face visible, sat with a sleeping woman leaning against his shoulder. The woman’s face was obscured, but her long, thick, curly hair suggested youth and beauty. She was nestled against him, asleep, while he gazed at her with… tenderness.The picture was beautiful, and evocative. If the man wasn’t my husband, the man who’d promised to be home for lunch, I might have even called it romantic.My fingers went numb. I could feel the blood draining from my face as I swiped the photo away. Then, more texts from Susan:[You should recognize that this is James Ferguson's private plane. Idiot, this woman is the one he really brought back to the country an
ZeldaI watched Susan’s mouth move, the words blurring into a meaningless drone. My mind was reeling, a montage of memories flashing before my eyes. Yes, a small voice whispered, nothing in this world is free.I remembered that snowy night, the young James carrying me into the Ferguson mansion. He’d personally coaxed me that night, cleaned the grime from my body, and tended to my wounds. He’d spoken softly and offered me a piece of orange candy. I’d thought I was lucky, that I’d somehow caught his eye, and earned his favour.But I’d forgotten… James wasn’t compassionate.He was aloof, cold, unapproachable. And he had mysophobia! Why would he, of all people, lower himself to care for a filthy, bloodied child unless… unless there was a reason?And now, the reason was staring me in the face, cruel and devastating. I closed my eyes, trying to shield myself from the wave of bitterness and pain threatening to engulf me. I wouldn’t give Susan the satisfaction of seeing me break.“Are you fin
ZeldaThe phone screen mocked me, a digital window into a reality I desperately didn't want to see.Susan's words, laced with venomous glee, echoed in my ears."Is that your husband?" As if she had any right to speak his name.My hands trembled, a mix of rage and a bone-deep dread. I couldn't answer. I wouldn't. Not with her watching, her eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction."Sister, are you afraid to answer it?" Her voice was a saccharine mockery.I snapped. The phone went dark, and the scalding coffee followed, a desperate, futile attempt to silence the truth she was trying to force down my throat."Zelda Liamson, you are mad!" She screamed, the hot liquid dripping down her face.Mad? I was beyond mad. I was unravelling."Don't be ungrateful and repay kindness with hatred!" She spat her words with a bitter, ironic twist.Kindness? Did she call this kindness? This tearing apart of my life, this shattering o
JamesThe abrupt silence of the phone call echoed in the sterile hospital corridor, a small, yet jarring disruption to the otherwise clinical atmosphere.I stared at the dark screen, a faint frown creasing my brow.From the window beside me, the emergency entrance was visible, a flurry of activity. A moment ago, I could have sworn I saw a familiar figure being carried inside. A woman, her face obscured, but something about her…Zelda.But no, it couldn't be. She was at the old house, safe. She wouldn't be here. She wouldn't… hang up on me.Why wouldn't she answer? Was she still angry about lunch? I’d been detained at the office, an urgent matter that couldn’t be postponed. She knew I hated breaking promises, especially to her."James, my mother has woken up and asked me to come out and call you."The sound of my given name, rarely used, snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see my cousin, her expr
ZeldaThe sight of them, walking side by side, was a painful echo of the past. A chilling reminder of the wedding anniversary when I'd seen him with Susan. The same casual intimacy, the same dismissive air.A wave of nausea washed over me, a sickening blend of sadness and betrayal. My fingers trembled, the phone a cold, hard weight in my hand.I couldn't face him. Not yet. I slipped behind a nearby tree, a silent observer in my own life.He answered the call, his voice, deep and familiar, cutting through the silence."Why didn't you answer the phone just now?"No greeting, no endearment. Just a question, sharp and accusatory. Was it because Bai Luoqi was there? Was he afraid to address me properly in front of her?"James, where are you? Why didn't you come back at noon?" I asked, my voice strained.A desperate plea for honesty. If he could just tell me the truth, explain his relationship with Bai Luoqi, then maybe, just maybe,
The cool milk was a small comfort, a fleeting moment of normalcy before the day truly began."Grandma isn't home?" I asked, already knowing the answer."She went to church," the servant confirmed, "praying for you and Mr. James Ferguson. A happy marriage and a son soon."My heart clenched. For us. For a future that felt increasingly like a cruel joke. " The words, a hollow promise. And now, the baby. Their baby.Why? Why did he have to look at me with those eyes, offer me a glimpse of something real, when his heart belonged to another? Grandma would be so disappointed.I was about to escape, to find some semblance of peace, when Hellen Ferguson arrived, her face set in that determined, maternal line."Zee, mom made some soup for you.""I'm full," I said, but it was a futile attempt. The bowl, heavy and steaming, was thrust into my hands. "Just a bowl," she insisted, her voice laced with a gentle, yet firm, command. "You're pregnant no
ZeldaTiny sobs escaped me, a pathetic, leaking sound I couldn't contain. I pressed my fingers to my lips, trying to silence the tremors, but they wouldn't stop.He turned, his eyes widening as he saw my tears. Stunned, he pulled me into his arms."Why are you suddenly crying?"I couldn't speak. My throat was tight, choked with unspoken words, with the weight of everything I knew now.He remembered. He remembered the little girl who cried for him, even when he wouldn't cry for himself. A small, sad smile touched his lips. He pulled my hands away, kissed my wet cheek, and coaxed me,"Are you heartbroken? Is Queeny a little fool? The pain has healed a long time ago, and it doesn't hurt anymore. It's okay, it's not worth crying about."His gentle words, his familiar touch, almost broke me. I clenched my fists, fighting back the fresh wave of tears that threatened to overwhelm me."You're right," I managed, my voice trembling.
ZeldaIt was them. Him and Bai Luoxing. Together. In the sterile, white hallway of the hospital. My heart, already fragile, felt like it shattered into a million tiny pieces.I couldn't face him then. Couldn't bear to see the truth reflected in his eyes. So I retreated, a coward in my own story.The darkness of our bedroom offered a false sense of courage. A foolish hope that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong. That I was imagining things. I needed to ask him. Needed to hear it from his own lips. To understand. But when I tried, the words caught in my throat, choked by the lump of despair that had formed there."Let's talk tomorrow, go to sleep..." he mumbled, pulling me into his arms.His embrace, once a sanctuary, now felt like a cage. His brow was furrowed, his voice distant. Was it guilt? Avoidance? Or simply indifference? Was he already giving his attention to someone else?I used to love his embrace. The familiar scent, the steady beat of
ZeldaThe sight of them, walking side by side, was a painful echo of the past. A chilling reminder of the wedding anniversary when I'd seen him with Susan. The same casual intimacy, the same dismissive air.A wave of nausea washed over me, a sickening blend of sadness and betrayal. My fingers trembled, the phone a cold, hard weight in my hand.I couldn't face him. Not yet. I slipped behind a nearby tree, a silent observer in my own life.He answered the call, his voice, deep and familiar, cutting through the silence."Why didn't you answer the phone just now?"No greeting, no endearment. Just a question, sharp and accusatory. Was it because Bai Luoqi was there? Was he afraid to address me properly in front of her?"James, where are you? Why didn't you come back at noon?" I asked, my voice strained.A desperate plea for honesty. If he could just tell me the truth, explain his relationship with Bai Luoqi, then maybe, just maybe,
JamesThe abrupt silence of the phone call echoed in the sterile hospital corridor, a small, yet jarring disruption to the otherwise clinical atmosphere.I stared at the dark screen, a faint frown creasing my brow.From the window beside me, the emergency entrance was visible, a flurry of activity. A moment ago, I could have sworn I saw a familiar figure being carried inside. A woman, her face obscured, but something about her…Zelda.But no, it couldn't be. She was at the old house, safe. She wouldn't be here. She wouldn't… hang up on me.Why wouldn't she answer? Was she still angry about lunch? I’d been detained at the office, an urgent matter that couldn’t be postponed. She knew I hated breaking promises, especially to her."James, my mother has woken up and asked me to come out and call you."The sound of my given name, rarely used, snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see my cousin, her expr
ZeldaThe phone screen mocked me, a digital window into a reality I desperately didn't want to see.Susan's words, laced with venomous glee, echoed in my ears."Is that your husband?" As if she had any right to speak his name.My hands trembled, a mix of rage and a bone-deep dread. I couldn't answer. I wouldn't. Not with her watching, her eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction."Sister, are you afraid to answer it?" Her voice was a saccharine mockery.I snapped. The phone went dark, and the scalding coffee followed, a desperate, futile attempt to silence the truth she was trying to force down my throat."Zelda Liamson, you are mad!" She screamed, the hot liquid dripping down her face.Mad? I was beyond mad. I was unravelling."Don't be ungrateful and repay kindness with hatred!" She spat her words with a bitter, ironic twist.Kindness? Did she call this kindness? This tearing apart of my life, this shattering o
ZeldaI watched Susan’s mouth move, the words blurring into a meaningless drone. My mind was reeling, a montage of memories flashing before my eyes. Yes, a small voice whispered, nothing in this world is free.I remembered that snowy night, the young James carrying me into the Ferguson mansion. He’d personally coaxed me that night, cleaned the grime from my body, and tended to my wounds. He’d spoken softly and offered me a piece of orange candy. I’d thought I was lucky, that I’d somehow caught his eye, and earned his favour.But I’d forgotten… James wasn’t compassionate.He was aloof, cold, unapproachable. And he had mysophobia! Why would he, of all people, lower himself to care for a filthy, bloodied child unless… unless there was a reason?And now, the reason was staring me in the face, cruel and devastating. I closed my eyes, trying to shield myself from the wave of bitterness and pain threatening to engulf me. I wouldn’t give Susan the satisfaction of seeing me break.“Are you fin
My good mood vanished, replaced by a chilling premonition. Even though the number was unknown, I knew it was Susan. I frowned, ready to block it, but another photo arrived. Annoyed, I almost swiped it away, but my finger slipped, enlarging the image. My heart lurchedIt was a surreptitious shot, clearly taken on a plane. The man, only half his face visible, sat with a sleeping woman leaning against his shoulder. The woman’s face was obscured, but her long, thick, curly hair suggested youth and beauty. She was nestled against him, asleep, while he gazed at her with… tenderness.The picture was beautiful, and evocative. If the man wasn’t my husband, the man who’d promised to be home for lunch, I might have even called it romantic.My fingers went numb. I could feel the blood draining from my face as I swiped the photo away. Then, more texts from Susan:[You should recognize that this is James Ferguson's private plane. Idiot, this woman is the one he really brought back to the country an
ZeldaLilian Wenger's red eyes and embarrassed flush were hard to ignore. She’s a dancer of some renown, and those in the arts often possess a certain nobility. But the comfortable life she was accustomed to was clearly weighing on her, the thought of losing it all outweighing any sense of shame.I never expected Susan to still be lying to her parents, still clinging to the fiction that James is her child’s father. My brow furrowed.“Please?” I prompted.“James has stopped investing in the Wenger family. It was agreed upon, but he’s cut us off without warning. Our funding has dried up…” This was news to me.James hadn’t breathed a word of it.“Zee, for your grandmother’s sake, you can’t just stand by and watch the Wenger family crumble. Grandma and Grandpa built that business.”Grandmother Wenger passed away when I was five. My memories are hazy, but I remember her warmth and her adoration. It’s undeniable that my adoption by the Fergusons was tied to my connection to the Wenger famil