The day two students got into a dispute, I ran into Morris Freeman, my ex from ten years ago.

The boy who had been fighting wiped his tears and called him "Dad".

Morris froze when he saw me, then finally remembered what was going on and apologized.

"Ms. Langstaff, I'm sorry for causing you trouble."

I handled the compensation by the book and wrapped everything up.

When it was over, he lagged behind, clearly wanting to say something.

"Back then, I remember you didn't want to be a teacher."

I gave a faint smile and walked him to the office door.

"People change. So do their ideas."

Just like my feelings for him.

That chapter had been closed a long time ago.

Kids' conflicts flare up fast and fade just as fast.

The two boys who had been fighting joked around as they ran outside, with another kid's mom hurrying after them.

Only Morris Freeman stayed behind, standing there quietly and looking at me. His gaze wasn't intense, but it wasn't exactly calm either.

"Have you been well these past years?"

I kept smiling, the same polite expression I used with every other parent, and nodded.

"The workload's heavy, but the students are mostly well behaved. Mr. Freeman, you should talk more with your son at home. Even though he admitted his mistake this time, if he hits someone again, the other parents won't let it go."

His throat bobbed, and he suddenly changed the subject.

"I meant, in these past years, have you…"

"Dad!"

I instinctively stepped back.

Zach Freeman's voice rang out from the end of the hallway.

"Let's go home. If we're late, Mom's gonna be mad!"

He swallowed the rest of his words. My smile didn't change.

"Drive safe, Mr. Freeman."

By the time I turned back to my desk, he was already gone.

The math teacher, Maggie Love, walked in from outside and casually asked me, "Did Zach get into another fight?"

I was grading papers, and my hand paused. "Another?"

"Oh, right. You just transferred here, so you're not familiar yet. Zach's the troublemaker in Class Three.

"He messes up every week, and we have to call his parents. But his attitude's good. He cries and admits fault every time, and he even hits his own hand with a ruler. Then he does it all over again next time.

"No idea how his parents are raising him."

I frowned and pulled up Zach's file.

Father: Morris Freeman.

Mother: Courtney Freeman.

"You know that tech company downtown, Silverarch Tech? His dad runs it. His mom owns an art gallery. Both are highly educated. One's an entrepreneur, the other's an artist. On paper, they've got everything. And yet, they ended up with a real handful of a kid."

Maggie clicked her tongue helplessly and handed me a form.

"By the way, Mr. Perkins said you only filled in yourself under family information. He asked you to complete it."

I gave a soft hum. "I grew up in foster care. I don't have any other family."

"Oh, I'm sorry… I'll bring it back to him later."

She stood across from me, sorting other documents. Maybe out of guilt, she kept sneaking glances at me.

Finally, she worked up the nerve to say, "Ms. Langstaff, it's okay. Once you start dating and get married, you'll have a family, too."

She even showed me photos of her friends and said she could introduce me if I liked any of them.

I shook my head and thanked her for the thought. "Many years ago, I was in a relationship. I almost had a family."

"Oh, what happened, then?"

I smiled and didn't answer.

Later, he built a family with someone else, and I was on my own again.

She looked displeased, her eyes full of judgment.

"So you ran into a real jerk, huh? Where did you meet him, a trash can or a sewer?"

Maggie's question made me laugh.

My eyes drifted back to the line that listed Zach's father.

With the noise of students pouring out onto the playground after school, I suddenly remembered the first time I met Morris in ninth grade. It had also been because of a fight.

I punched my desk mate for calling me a stray kid.

Morris had beaten up the class sports rep for calling him a jinx.

Two stubborn kids who refused to admit fault, and neither of us had parents who could be called in. We were made to stand under the school flagpole together, surrounded by teachers and students from the entire campus.

In the middle of the principal's lecture, Morris noticed the cotton stuffed up my nose and the blood on my index finger, which had been cut by broken glass.

His dark eyes narrowed slightly. "You lost?"

I bit my lip. "I skipped breakfast. That's all. Next time, I'll beat him till he begs to stop."

He paused, then said lightly, "Next time you get in a fight, come find me. I'll make sure you win."

Maggie raised her hand.

"You fought because your desk mate had a filthy mouth. Why did he fight?"

I rubbed the scar on my index finger and let my gaze slide down from the word "Father".

Grandmother.

"He lost his dad when he was little. His grandparents passed away when he was in elementary school. In middle school, his mom got sick. His tuition was scraped together by relatives and neighbors. Everyone called him a jinx and said he was bad luck."

Maggie stared, stunned. After a long moment, she sighed.

"Two poor kids clinging together."

I pressed my lips together.

Actually, after we both got into a top college, those two poor kids became three.

A best friend I hadn't seen in years was attending the same college. She ran over to me in excitement and accidentally knocked over Morris's cup.

The latte he had made for me spilled all over both of them.

Afraid their first impression of each other would be ruined, I rushed to introduce them.

"This is my boyfriend, Morris. Morris, this is Courtney, my closest friend from the foster home."

-

My relationship with Morris was never what you would call romantic.

In high school, we went to class during the day and skipped evening study hall at night to hand out flyers, just to earn money for the next day's meals.

After we were done, we would curl up together in the hallway outside his mom, Judy Freeman's, hospital room, using the hospital lights to tutor each other.

I was good at literature and terrible at math. He was the opposite.

To avoid disturbing the patients, we could only write what we wanted to say on scraps of paper.

Over three years of high school, we filled five full notebooks of draft paper. Our college entrance exam scores were exactly the same.

On the day we checked our results, Judy couldn't eat a thing.

I spooned oatmeal to her, and she grabbed my fingers, her eyes red.

"Olivia, if you and Morris don't get into the same school, will you still come see me? It's okay if you end up falling for another boy. Just come back and be my daughter, all right? Olivia, I really can't bear to let you go."

When Morris walked in holding freshly dried laundry and saw the two of us clinging to each other and crying, he looked completely helpless.

"Worst case, we do long distance. Once we graduate, we'll get married right away. We're meant to spend our lives together, anyway."

Later, when we started college, I moved out of the foster home, while Judy was discharged and went back home.

Morris couldn't bring himself to accept help from relatives and neighbors anymore, so we applied for student loans together.

College gave us more time to work. I took two part-time jobs. He took three.

We were in different schools in college, so most days, the only time we had together was late at night, walking back to the dorms after work, leaning close and talking about the future we dreamed of.

We made a promise: In our junior year, we would aim for a fully funded exchange program. In senior year, we would go study abroad in Merinthia together.

Then, we would get married after graduation.

For that future full of hope, we worked even harder. We worked while studying, saving every dollar we could.

Just when we finally saved enough money for studying abroad, God decided to play a cruel joke on us.

Judy took a sudden turn for the worse and was admitted to the ICU.

Every dollar we had saved went straight into medical bills. We borrowed everywhere we could, and it still wasn't enough.

Judy's condition kept fluctuating. Morris stayed day and night outside the ICU and couldn't step away at all.

I skipped every class and worked nonstop from morning till night. I slept three hours a day at most, and every cent I earned went straight to him.

During that time, neither of us had the energy to talk about the future. Our messages were nothing but Judy's critical condition notices and my daily transfer receipts.

The future felt too far away. Just getting through the present was already exhausting.

Thankfully, God didn't drag it out forever. Before the final exchange slots were confirmed, Judy's condition stabilized.

Half a year of constant tension finally snapped.

Morris rushed back from the hospital. I quit two of my part-time jobs. Like maniacs, we crammed classes together and threw ourselves into the study abroad exams we had waited so long for.

The results were posted quickly. Once again, we had exactly the same score.

But after missing an entire semester of classes, both of us had zero participation credit.

Morris' appeal cited caring for his mother.

I didn't even need to appeal. Every teacher and administrator knew I had been working nonstop to earn money.

I lost the appeal. After all, he was taking care of his mom, while I was just "trying to get rich".

My qualification was revoked, and the slot went to the third-ranked student.

Morris stormed into the registrar's office, insisting on proving that every job I worked was for his sake.

Unfortunately, the decision was final. There was nothing anyone could do.

He clenched his fists and said that if I wasn't going, then he wouldn't go either.

But this had been his dream since childhood. He wanted to study business in Merinthia, then come back and start his own company, so Judy and I could live good lives.

Forcing myself not to cry, I grabbed his hand and said harshly that if he dared not go, I would break up with him.

He cried so hard that he could barely breathe. He held me tight as he swore, "Olivia, wait for me. I'll come back after I finish my studies and marry you. I'll give you a home. If I let you down, let me get hit by a bus!"

By this point, Maggie was already crying so hard that she was gasping for air.

"You two suffered so much. Way too much! But why didn't you get married in the end? Did something happen to him in Merinthia?"

I shook my head calmly.

"He fell in love with another girl."

The sobbing stopped instantly. Maggie wiped her tears and clenched her fist in anger.

"Then he might as well have died over there!"

I thought maybe God really was unfair.

Every time I thought I was finally going to have a family, it threw another obstacle in my way.

The day the exchange student list was posted, the girl who ranked third jumped and cheered in front of the red bulletin board. When she turned around, our eyes met.

"Olivia!"

"Courtney?"

I was still in a daze when Courtney rushed over excitedly.

She accidentally knocked over the latte Morris had personally brewed to comfort me.

Just like that, the only two exchange students at the entire university crossed paths.

-

Courtney and I both grew up in foster care.

I was a few months older, so I naturally became the one who took care of her.

Any food we managed to get, I gave to Courtney first. She could take her pick first out of the new clothes we got. When there was a chance to study, I let her attend the better art school.

So when Courtney learned she would be studying abroad with Morris, she patted her chest and promised me, "Olivia, don't worry. I'll keep an eye on Morris for you. I won't let any other woman get close to him!"

At the time, I was actually glad. At least Morris wouldn't be alone or helpless.

After they went abroad, my life slipped right back into the same grind as before the exams.