The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night.

The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face.

When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on."

It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it.

Later, I died.

But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.

Sitting at the dining table, I stared at the food growing colder by the minute. I picked up my phone and typed a single word, "Okay," and hit send.

Half an hour earlier, Zac had texted me, saying he had just left the office and would be home soon.

I had eagerly set out his favorite dishes on the table when my phone lit up with another message. "Something urgent came up. I have to attend a meeting. You go ahead without me."

My heart sank. There was no last-minute business meeting. It was just my dear 'sister,' his so-called one true love, Eve, who had just returned from overseas with her biracial child. Zac and their friends were busy throwing her a welcome-back party.

How did I know? Of course, it was my lovely sister who posted something on her social media, visible only to me. In the photo, Zac was gazing at her with so much affection, smiling more like a goofy dog than an actual one.

If she had any less shame, I bet she would have invited me to witness the whole thing in person.

After all, when Zac and I got married, she had called me all the way from Frangelia to warn me. "Quinn, even though we look exactly alike, Zac’s heart will always belong to me."

By that time, she had already been married to her tall, muscular Frangelian husband for two years and had given birth to the biracial child she had always dreamed of. But she still needed to flaunt her place in Zac’s heart in front of me.

She was not wrong. For all these years, Zac’s mind had been stuck on her.

On our wedding night, while Zac moved on top of me, kissing my face again and again, the name he whispered was not mine. It was hers, "Eve."

And my name was Quinn Jones.

……

I picked up the now-cold food from the table and stuffed it into my mouth. Even though my throat felt tight and uncomfortable, I did not stop.

The doctor told me my illness was caused by years of poor eating habits. Skipping meals and irregular eating had only made things worse. From now on, I had to eat on time and take care of myself.

In the past, for Zac, I could go the entire day without eating and only have my first meal in the middle of the night.

Today, I waited over an hour just to eat with him.

From now on, I would not starve another minute for him!

After I finished eating and cleaned everything up, I lay down in bed.

Before falling asleep, I wondered how late Zac would stay out tonight.

But when I woke up the next morning, the cold and neatly made bed beside me told me he had not come home at all.

Almost instinctively, I grabbed my phone and checked Eve’s social media.

Sure enough, there it was again, another post just for me. This time, it was a photo of her and Zac holding hands, with the caption "Eight years later, and it’s still just as warm!"

My stomach clenched as if a giant hand had squeezed it. The pain was so intense that I could barely breathe and cold sweat started forming on my forehead.

With one hand gripping my phone and the other clutching my stomach, I told myself, "It’s okay. You’re going to die soon anyway. None of this matters anymore!"

Yes, I had stomach cancer. The doctor told me I had about three months left to live.

All those years of working non-stop for the Gibson Corporation, scrambling to clean up Zac’s messes, skipping meals, and drinking until I threw up, had ruined my stomach.

But now, even if I only had a day left, I was not going to torture it anymore. My poor stomach had already suffered enough having me as its owner.

So I got up and made myself breakfast.

Just as I set the bowl of oats porridge on the table, Zac came home with Eve and her child.

I did not cry when Zac lied to me about meeting his "one true love." I did not cry when he did not come home all night. I did not even cry when I saw Eve’s post.

But the moment he walked through that door with them, my tears flowed like a dam had broken.

In that instant, the last place I had called my own had been invaded and tainted by these two wretched people.

Before I had to face them, I quickly got up and rushed into the bathroom.

In the living room, Zac called out for me several times, but I covered my mouth. Tears were streaming down my face and I was too afraid to respond.

By the time I wiped my tears and composed myself enough to come out, I found them sitting at the dining table. They were eating the oats porridge I had made, chatting and laughing together.

What a "happy little family" they were.

I stormed over, stopping right in front of the table, and staring at them with a burning intensity.

Zac looked up, confused. "Where’d you go? I’ve been calling you for a while."

Eve smiled sweetly, but there was a hint of challenge in her eyes. "Quinn, come sit down and have breakfast with us!" Her tone was so casual, as if she were Mrs. Gibson and I was the guest begging for scraps.

My expression must have been twisted with rage because I could feel my chest about to explode from the fury.

I had not even had a bite of the food I made, and yet I was expected to feed these two?

Without thinking, I snatched the bowls from their hands and tossed them into the trash beside the table. "I made this oats porridge for me, not for you two!"

Zac could not react fast enough, and in my haste, I splashed some onto his sleeve. As he wiped it off, he snapped angrily, "Quinn, what the hell is wrong with you this morning?"

I turned and grabbed the bowl from Eve’s son, Jason, as well, then glared coldly at Zac. "If you want to reminisce with your precious Eve, fine. But don’t bring them in front of me.

"They don’t deserve to eat the food I made. And neither do you."

Eve's eyes reddened, and she stood up, apologizing softly. "Quinn, don’t misunderstand. Z and I are just friends now, nothing more. I only brought Jason to visit you."

I looked at her with cold disdain. "If you were really here just to visit me, you would have addressed him by his name, not something so familiar."

She flinched as if startled, then quickly apologized again "I’m sorry, Quinn. I’ve just been calling him that for so long, it slipped out. I’ll be more careful next time."

Zac had already thrown down the napkin he was using. His face was darkening with anger as he shouted at me, "Enough, Quinn! Eve came here with good intentions, and this is how you treat her? You’re being completely unreasonable!"

Ignoring him, I pointed to the door and said to Eve, "Take your son and get out of my house."

A single tear rolled down Eve’s cheek as she asked Zac in a trembling voice, "Zac, did I do something wrong? Is that why Quinn hates me so much?"

Zac shoved me aside and rushed to her, gently wiping away her tears and comforting her in a soft voice, "It’s not your fault. It’s Quinn who doesn’t know how to appreciate kindness."

He turned back to me, glaring. "Quinn, apologize to Eve. Now."

I lifted my head, blinking hard to force back the tears that threatened to spill. There was no way I was shedding any more tears for this man.

I looked at the two of them clinging to each other and calmly said, "Both of you, get out of here. Now."

Zac was furious. "Quinn, you need to get one thing straight. This is my house. What gives you the right to tell me to leave?"

Yes, this house had been bought by the Gibson family. However, two years ago, after I landed a major deal for the company and ended up in the hospital with stomach bleeding, Zac’s father transferred it to my name as compensation.

So, now it was my house.

I stared at Zac without blinking. "Zac, would you like me to bring out the property deed to remind you whose house this really is?"

When he heard this, a flash of discomfort crossed his face as he remembered the transfer from years ago.

"So what?" he said, trying to recover. "I’m your husband. What’s yours is mine too!"

I scoffed. "Oh, now you remember you’re my husband?

"Tell me, who were you out with last night? Whose bed did you end up in after not coming home?

"Need me to show you the photos?"

Zac looked at me, confused. "I just got drunk and crashed at the hotel. What photos?"

I was about to respond when Eve hurriedly interrupted. "Quinn, if you don’t want me here, I’ll just take Jason and go."

She gave Zac a pitiful look, then quickly grabbed Jason’s hand and rushed out.

Zac lifted his foot to chase after her, but I grabbed the corner of his shirt, stopping him.

Clutching my stomach in pain, I asked in a trembling voice, "Zac, my stomach hurts so much. Can you please get me a glass of warm water?"

He shoved me off with force, causing my head to hit the wall, and I was left dizzy from the impact. For a brief moment, I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes.

However, he still coldly spat out, "Quinn, you're getting more and more pathetic. Now you can’t even get a glass of water on your own?" Then, without another word, he rushed out the door to chase after Eve.

Of course, the allure of his "one true love" was stronger. What did I, his stand-in for the past eight years, even mean to him?

Suddenly, the pain in my stomach did not feel as bad anymore. It was the stabbing pain in my heart that was unbearable.

……

My doctor kept urging me to undergo chemotherapy. He said, "You’re still so young. You can’t just give up on life."

But what he did not know was that both my stomach and my heart were already riddled with scars. I could not bear to go through any more torment.

In these last three months, I just wanted to spend my time quietly. I did not want to lose all my hair and end up waiting for death in a hospital bed.

Since that day Zac ran after Eve, he had not set foot in our house for four days.

Eve, however, made sure to give me daily updates via her social media, visible only to me.

"Today, we visited the spot where we first fell in love. It's amazing! Those little trees have all grown so much." The photo showed a small grove at Central High. I remembered standing behind one of those trees, watching as Zac knelt down on one knee to propose to Eve.

"Today, we watched The Ex-Files 3 together. I wonder if I still hold the same place in his heart as I once did?" The photo was of two movie tickets and a pair of hands, one large and one small, tightly intertwined.

"He said watching me eat makes him happy!" The photo showed a plate of spicy buffalo wings, even though Zac never ate anything spicy.

……

And so on, each post a thinly veiled attempt to rub salt in my wounds.

I made sure to like each one, displaying the grace and poise of a wife in her rightful place. Losing him did not matter, but I was not about to lose my dignity.

Eventually, Eve called, her voice seething with anger. "Quinn, if you know what's good for you, you'll give up the title of Mrs. Gibson sooner rather than later. It’s never been yours, and even after eight years, it still won’t be."

I let out a quiet laugh. Did I even have another eight years left to give?

After laughing, I replied calmly, "Eve, as soon as you can get Zac's mom to welcome you with open arms, I’ll head straight to the courthouse and finalize the divorce."

I could see she was typing, but no message came through.

She knew there was no way she could ever get the Gibson family’s approval. After all, it was she who had trampled all over their reputation in the first place.

Back then, both families had already sat down to discuss the wedding, and the media was buzzing about the upcoming grand event. It was supposed to be a huge celebration!

Zac’s mother, Sally Gibson, had gone out of her way to find the finest gifts for her soon-to-be daughter-in-law, and his father, Tom Gibson, had even generously given Eve 2% of Gibson Corporation’s shares to show how much they valued her.

Every woman in our circle was envious of Eve. Even I would hide away in empty corners, sneaking glances at Zac, wishing I could be the one standing by his side.

But that perfect happiness, so easily within her grasp, was destroyed by Eve herself.

---

One week before the wedding, Eve left a letter and disappeared.

It was not until my dad finished reading the letter that everyone realized Eve had flown halfway across the world to Frangelia to chase after her true love.

She wrote that when she met the tall and muscular John, she finally understood what true love really felt like. And since she had always dreamed of having a biracial child, all she could do was offer her apologies to Zac and the Gibson family.