Perhaps it was the damage from the fall, but when my daughter was born, her health was extremely fragile—high-needs, allergic to almost everything, and refusing formula.
Her tiny face was swollen and bruised, and she cried all night, every night.
I was the only one there, an exhausted new mother struggling to care for a fragile newborn.
Desmond nodded in understanding.
"Ms. Warren, you've been out of the workforce for too long. If you join us, you'll have to start from an entry-level position. Is that alright?"
Without hesitation, I nodded. "That’s fine."
He stood up and shook my hand.
"Then welcome aboard."
As I returned his handshake, my heart pounded violently.
The same way it had when I found out I had been accepted into Langston University.
It felt like... I just took the second step in my life.
…
The next day, I stepped into the office.
Desmond looked at me with an apologetic expression.
"I'm sorry. Your offer has been revoked."
I froze. "Why?"
He swallowed hard, then cautiously pointed in a direction.
"Our company was just acquired. The new CEO said... we can't hire you."
I followed his gaze.
Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting a golden glow around the man sitting in the leather executive chair.
He was tall, dressed in a tailored suit.
Beneath the slate-gray trousers, black socks wrapped around his ankles.
The leather chair slowly turned.
He had a sharp nose, thin lips, a prominent brow, and strikingly defined features.
The only accessory on him was a watch worth seven figures, exuding quiet luxury.
Suppressing his anger, he spoke in a low voice.
"Elaine Warren, have you had enough? Your daughter is waiting for you to come home."
His gaze swept across the office, glancing at the yellowed walls and the outdated water dispenser, before his lips curled into a mocking smirk.
“How much are you even making here? A little over a thousand a month? I’m busy. I don’t have time for your games."
I lifted my eyes, looking at the man I had been entangled with since I was twenty.
Now, in my thirties, I suddenly found it laughable.
I heard myself say softly, "Go back? For what? To take care of your little mistress during her pregnancy? Daniel Sterling, I’m not that pathetic."
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I’ve told you a thousand times—I was drunk that night. I don’t remember anything."
The sound of heels clicking against the floor echoed in the office.
The door opened just a crack, and a pair of nude-colored heels stepped inside.
Scarlett Snow walked in, dressed in a sleek business suit.
Beneath the slate-gray skirt, her long, fair legs stood out.
Her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, and though her stomach had a slight curve, her figure remained slender.
She placed a stack of documents on Daniel’s desk and spoke softly, “Mr. Sterling, here is the acquisition contract for this company. Please review it.”
It felt like a heavy blow, landing squarely in my heart.
I took a deep breath, forcing back the sting at the corners of my eyes, and stared at him coldly.
"How thoughtful of you. Coming to see your ex-wife and bringing along your pregnant mistress."
Daniel’s brows furrowed as he replied impatiently, "Scarlett isn’t like you. She’s my chief assistant. If I didn’t bring her to a merger, who else would I bring?"
He lifted his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Oh, right. You wouldn’t know anything about that. You’ve never worked before."
Each word was a blade, cutting deep.
It felt like a damp cloth was pressed against my heart, heavy and suffocating.
At eighteen, I was a rising star, the top student in the province.
A bright red banner with my name swayed at the entrance of my school—everyone knew who I was.
The townspeople beamed with pride, their smiles warm and genuine.
"Elaine’s going to do great things one day!"
At twenty-two, I was the student body president.
I represented Langston University at an academic conference in Velocity, standing before thousands, speaking with fluency, confidence, and unwavering poise.
Walking along the campus path, I would hear whispers around me.
"Look, that’s Elaine Warren! She’s incredible!"
But now, at thirty-five, how did I end up like this?
Scarlett lifted her head, her delicate, youthful face turning toward me.
Her voice was soft and gentle.
"Elaine, please don’t blame Mr. Sterling.
"It happened at the company’s annual gala. We both had too much to drink.
"I was going to terminate the pregnancy, but Madam Sterling found out and took me for a checkup. When she learned it was a boy, she insisted I keep it."
She rested a hand on her stomach, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"You know how much Madam Sterling has always wanted Daniel to have a son.
"You couldn’t give her one, so for years, he’s been the one taking the pressure for you."
A wave of sheer absurdity crashed over me, suffocating and overwhelming.
I clutched my throat, as if the saltwater from that night still filled my lungs.
The ridiculousness of it all made me laugh in fury.
"She knows exactly why I never had another child. I’ve said it before that Anna will be my only child. I will never have another."
"Suit yourself."
Daniel stood up.
At six foot two, he towered over me, his shadow swallowing me whole.
His expression was as heavy as the rainstorm outside.
"When you were twenty, your little tantrums were amusing.
"But at thirty? They’re not cute anymore.
"They’re pathetic."
He spoke each word slowly and deliberately.
"Elaine Warren, think this through."
…
After that, I applied to seven or eight more companies.
Without exception, every opportunity was sabotaged by Daniel.
My expertise was in the tech industry, and the Sterling family held immense influence in that field.
He even spread the word—any company that dared to hire me could forget about receiving an invitation to next year’s Tech Summit.
The moment that warning went out, companies avoided me like the plague.
The second HR heard the name “Elaine Warren,” they didn’t hesitate to hang up the phone.
Then, Daniel called.
His voice was slow, almost amused.
"Running out of money yet? Come back and apologize, and you’ll still be Mrs. Sterling."
I clenched my fists so tightly that crescent-shaped marks dug deep into my palms.
I gave him only three words.
"Not a chance."
After we married, Daniel handed me a limitless credit card.
From jewelry and designer bags to luxury goods, I could buy anything I wanted.
However, I couldn’t withdraw cash.
That marriage, that family, had been nothing more than a gilded cage.
Dazzling, unbreakable, and the envy of everyone, yet it suffocated me.
The next day, I stood in front of a cleaning company.
"$6 an hour, 10-hour shifts, daily pay. Work locations vary based on client assignments."
A middle-aged woman with permed curls placed a uniform in front of me, eyeing me from head to toe with skepticism.
"Can someone like you—so well-educated—handle physical labor?"
I took the uniform and smiled. "Don’t underestimate me. I’m good at this."
My parents passed away when I was thirteen.
To survive and afford my education, I had worked as a waitress at a small-town diner, washed cars at an auto shop, and sold clothes in a boutique.
After I got together with Daniel, people often told me, "Elaine, you and Daniel live in two different worlds."
I knew that.
He had been on hunting trips in South Safari and watched the aurora in the South Pole.
Wherever he traveled, places would shut their doors to the public just to welcome him.
Meanwhile, before I turned eighteen, I had never once stepped outside my small hometown.
This decade-long marriage had fooled me into believing that I could walk beside him as an equal.
Like every novel, I thought it would eventually lead to a happy ending.
But the story ended, and life carried on.
Life was the mundane reality of bills, household chores, and everyday struggles.
It was the subtle condescension that came with being from different worlds, the slow erosion of my voice in this marriage—like a thin layer of sand that gradually built up, separating Daniel and me.
At first, it was just a faint irritation against the skin, barely noticeable.
But over time, those tiny grains became unbearable, grinding into my flesh slowly and painfully.
They became invisible, immeasurable, and impossible to brush away.
I changed into my cleaning company uniform and looked at my reflection in the mirror—a bare face without a trace of jewelry.
Once, this woman wore the finest makeup, dressed in Dior’s latest couture, and held a champagne glass, surrounded by elegance and laughter.
Whether as Mrs. Sterling or a janitor, one thing remained true—before dignity, survival came first.
…
By my second week on the job, I was assigned to an art exhibition hall.
There was an event that day, and the gallery had specifically requested our company’s cleaning services.
My work partner was a teenage boy—skin dark from the sun, thin to the point of malnourishment, but with eyes strikingly bright, like stars in the night sky.
I asked, "How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
I chuckled. "No way. My daughter is twelve, and by the looks of you, you’re barely thirteen."
The boy’s eyes widened in panic.
"Please, don’t report me. It took me so long to find this job."
I shook my head gently. "I won’t."
After all, who hasn’t struggled at thirteen?
The boy let out a breath of relief and gave me a shy smile.
For the next two hours, he stuck by my side.
Teenagers had endless energy.
"This metal bucket is too heavy, let me carry it."
"I’ll hold the chair for you, be careful not to fall."
I handed him a tissue. "Wipe your sweat. What’s your name?"
"Samuel Brown."
Samuel smiled shyly, lifting his face slightly before hesitating and asking cautiously, "Ma’am, can you not see out of your left eye?"
I froze. "How did you notice?"
After all these years, even my husband and daughter had never realized it.
He gestured toward the gaps between the paintings.
"You don’t judge distances accurately when you look at things. Did you lose your vision because of an illness?"
I shook my head.
"No. It was a gunshot wound. I lost it saving my ex-husband and daughter."
His eyes widened.
"Then they must be really grateful to you!"
I tried to smile but found that my lips wouldn’t curve up, leaving only an awkward expression frozen on my face.
"They don’t remember."
I reached up and touched the false eye on my left side, a deep bitterness welling in my heart.
The two people who should have been closest to me knew nothing about the scars in my heart or the wounds on my body.
"Ma’am, don’t cry."
Samuel stood in front of me, at a loss, his small, dark hands gently wiping away my tears.
Was I… crying?
He puffed out his cheeks in frustration.
"They're too thoughtless—it’s their fault! From now on, I’ll carry things for you, I’ll help you measure distances, I’ll be your eyes.
"If anyone dares to bully you, I’ll fight them off for you!"
His innocent, heartfelt words wrapped around me like warmth on a cold day.
At last, my lips curled into a smile.
"Alright, it’s a deal. From now on, Samuel will be my eyes. Let’s pinky promise—no take-backs."
A shy grin spread across his face as he hooked his pinky with mine, swinging our hands back and forth.