Capítulo 4

"Oh, my child, what's wrong? You must have been wronged by William. Tomorrow, I'll go to the Brown family and demand an explanation for bullying my daughter..." My mother was startled, quickly sitting on the bed to hug me.

"Mom, William didn't bully me. I'm just too touched by how good you are to me..." I choked, clinging to my mother's waist. William hadn't truly bullied me—everything was my own one-sided obsession. He was an honest villain, and I was a foolish admirer.

My mother patted my back, sighing deeply. As an only child, she knew me best—how could she not see the harness I'd endured with William? I wasn't one to cry easily; these tears held years of silent pain.

"Still want the chicken noodles?" she asked.

"Yes, I've been craving it..." I wiped my tears, crawling out of bed to follow her downstairs, sniffling. My father was already asleep; in the quiet dining room, my mother and I chatted as I devoured most of the noodles. After years of barely eating, my stomach cramped from the sudden feast, nearly making me vomit.

"Eat slower—you'll bloat and can't sleep," my mother chided, rubbing my back.

"Too hungry," I giggled. The last time I'd eaten so heartily was at my college graduation dinner with Yulia.

"Even when hungry, eat until you're 80% full," she said softly.

I clung to her arm. "Mom, sleep with me tonight? ！" She agreed without hesitation.

The next morning, I woke refreshed. After breakfast at home, I headed to the hospital. John was lying in bed, scrolling on his phone. His leg wasn't broken, but the deep gash required stitches, wrapped in thick gauze.

"Sister, you came again?" John looked surprised and slightly embarrassed. "You really don't have to worry so much or visit so often."

Nonsense, I thought, smiling warmly. I turned to Iriqe. "Bring them in."

Iriqe placed a pile of supplements beside the bed. John looked overwhelmed, cheeks flushing. "Sister, it's just a minor injury. This is too much."

"Our bodies are gifts from our parents—even minor injuries matter," I said, sitting beside him.

"By the way, sister, I still don't know your name," John suddenly asked.

"John. You can call me Alice," I replied calmly, unconcerned that the name might sound old. I was, after all, six years his senior.

John nodded. "Okay, Alice."

We chatted about everything—college life, his civil engineering major, his part-time jobs. As a junior on summer break, he was hardworking and earnest, dreaming of a stable job and marrying his girlfriend after graduation.

I snorted, immediately suppressing it. John hesitated. "Alice, why did you laugh?"

I rubbed my nose, maintaining a gentle smile. "Nothing. Just... seeing you reminds me of my college days, when I also had such beautiful dreams."

"Which university did you graduate from, Alice?" he asked curiously.

I looked at him deeply. "A University."

Funny enough, William and I were both seniors to Emma and John at A University.

John's eyes lit up. "Alice, we went to the same university? You're my senior!"

I feigned delight. "Yes, what a coincidence, right?"

A University was a top-three national school. Students here, even from ordinary families, had bright futures. Without William's interference, John's dreams would likely come true.

We bonded over campus stories. John was talkative, and I matched his energy—until a clear, cheerful voice interrupted us. "John, I'm here to see you!"

That voice—identical to the ringtone from my past life, the one William had set for Emma.

I turned. Emma wore a white chiffon dress, her raven hair cascading in gentle curls, innocent yet subtly alluring. I didn't envy her beauty, but her vibrant youth—a twenty-year-old's carefree radiance—stung. At twenty, I'd already been 暗恋 William for three years, wasting my best days on a love that would kill me. Why had Emma, at the same age, won William's passionate love, while I'd pined silently in my diary?

"Emma!" John beamed, then frowned guiltily. "I shouldn't have told you—I didn't want to worry you."

Emma carried a fruit basket, gliding over like a swan. "Silly! How could I not want to know if you're hurt?"

I stood, offering her the only chair. I was calm—after all, I'd soon be giving up William to her too. What was a mere chair?

"Sister, it's you!" Emma suddenly recognized me, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Because I ran over your boyfriend on purpose. I smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, I accidentally bumped into John. I came to check on him today."

Emma looked between us, then smiled warmly. "What a coincidence, John! This sister often comes to our café for coffee—she's very kind. I'm sure it was just an accident."

Her generosity left me speechless. Most people might have blamed me, but not Emma. Then again, I wasn't "most people"—I'd timed the collision deliberately.

"I know, Alice didn't mean it. She even overpaid my compensation—I feel bad," John said, scratching his head.

"That won't do. You should only pay what's fair," Emma insisted, pulling out her phone. "Alice, please send me your payment code. I'll return the extra money."

No wonder William was drawn to her—her disdain for wealth, her clear eyes untouched by greed. Next to her, my designer clothes felt cheap.

"There's no 'fair' compensation. John's leg will scar—this is the least he deserves. You two chat; I have to go," I said, turning to leave. Their carefree time was limited—just two weeks until William's arrival. After that, Emma would become his obsession, and John would lose this happiness forever. William was truly a monster.

Leaving the hospital, I told Iriqe to drive to Romance Mansion—the mansion I shared with William. I needed to fetch the Chinese herbal packets I'd bought; combined with my mother's cooking, they'd help me gain weight.

The packets lay untouched in the living room. I had no idea if William had come home last night or resolved things with Isabella.

"Why didn't you get out of the car yesterday?" William's voice interrupted my thoughts. He stood at the top of the stairs, glaring down at me.

Why was he home? Normally, he appeared once every three months. Dressed in all-black loungewear, he was effortlessly magnetic.

"I've never interfered with your flings before. Didn't want to break the habit," I replied coolly.

"Really? Then all those actresses losing roles and getting exposed—coincidence?" he asked, expressionless. So he'd known about my sabotage all along but never stopped me, since those women were just distractions. Unlike Emma, whom he'd defend fiercely.

I didn't deny it. "You gave them money and resources—part of our marital assets. It's only fair I take some back."

"Then why didn't you confront Isabella last night? I bought her an apartment—half of it's yours," he said, stepping closer, his 1.9m frame intimidating.

Was William possessed? Why was he wasting words on me? In a year, he'd offer me a fortune to divorce; why care about a measly apartment now?

"I've moved on. She's not the first, won't be the last. I can't fight them all," I said, hurrying out. I should've sent Iriqe to grab the herbs.

Only when I reached the car did his icy stare fade. I tossed the herbs in the backseat and left.

At the John mansion, I gave the herbs to the maid. My mother was cooking—one of her passions. My father returned, glaring as he shoved his phone at me. "Look at this nonsense!"

The headline read: Rising Star Isabella Denies Romance with Brown Corp CEO After Hotel Sighting. If they had a "relationship," it was purely transactional.

I handed back the phone. "Dad, it's all fake. You know William's a businessman—he has to socialize."

"You're still defending him?!" my father snapped.

It wasn't defense—I feared he'd stress himself sick. "Then let's go teach him a lesson! Father-daughter , we'll beat him up!" I rolled up my sleeves.

His scowl broke into a grin. "Nonsense! Black humor now?"

I hugged his arm, distracting him. "Father, think about how much Brown Corp has boosted City A's economy. Doesn't that make you feel better?"

"You're right. William recently donated new tracks to several schools—he does care about public welfare," my father admitted, softening.

"Exactly," I agreed.

Soon, my mother called us for lunch—all my favorite dishes. Only a mother's love is true.

After lunch, my father returned to work, leaving me with my mother. Her friends came over for mahjong. I lounged on the sofa, scrolling through Isabella's news. She claimed William was just funding her new role—nothing romantic. Typical William: throw money to silence rumors.

I dozed off until Yulia's call jolted me awake. Predictably, she wanted to hit the club.

"Alice, come drink—there are hot guys!" she shouted.

"How hot?" I asked.

"Like, drop-dead-gorgeous, earth-shattering, sea-drying hot! Hurry up, Oliva's already here. Sasha's out of town for a gig."

Since my divorce plan, the girls had taken turns distracting me—dinners, KTV, shopping. I knew they feared I'd collapse inwardly, and they were right. Without their help, I'd spiral into memories of my past life.

"Give me 30 minutes," I said, hanging up as she sent the address.

Hours later, buzzed from drinks, I stumbled toward the restroom, escorted by a handsome guy from our table. I let him help me, savoring the attention—until he asked, "Can I get your whatsapp? You can message me anytime you feel... lonely."