Freshman year internship, at a dinner party, I was nearly forced drunk and assaulted. Andre Hillsmith helped me. Later, we got to know and fell in love and had a child out of love ...

Andre said he would marry me, but he kept delaying and never brought me to meet his family.

Until I was six months pregnant and could no longer hide my belly, he staged a proposal ceremony.

That day, our first night's video was played on a big screen in a loop.

At the same time, my mother received a text message from an unknown number: [See how wild your daughter is? You made my dad abandon my mom and me before I was even born, now I'll make your daughter taste the same pain. Fair, right?]

Worried about me, my mother rushed over to find me, only to die in a car crash on the way.

My father, consumed by grief, slapped me so hard I went deaf, then had a cerebral hemorrhage.

When we met again, I had become a bar hostess trampled on by others, but he looked at me with heartache ...

***

"Room 18, VIP suite, send two crates of red wine, quick, quick, quick!" Just after I changed into the tight-fitting bunny girl outfit, the manager yelled over the intercom.

"Coming." I quickly responded, stepping into five-centimeter heels to grab the wine.

Just as I reached the private suite door, I heard the familiar voice of our regular, Brody Lachey.

He said, "I wouldn't introduce anything bad to you guys. Seriously, Number 18 has a pretty face and a sweet voice. If I weren't afraid of getting dirty, I would've already made my move."

"Girls from places like this, tsk tsk, nice to look at, but don't get too involved, they're disease carriers." As his words landed, laughter erupted all around.

I lowered my gaze, pretending I hadn't heard anything and pushed open the door with my body. The laughter gradually faded and countless eyes fell on me.

Some were scrutinizing, some mocking, some full of bad intentions ... I didn't dare look up, softening my tone to greet them and squatting down to open the wine.

"Girl, you're dressed really nicely today." Brody held his wine glass and leaned closer to me, playing with the short pom-pom on the back of my uniform with his other hand.

I didn't dodge, letting his palm slide over the curve of my hip.

Bang! The bottom of a wine glass slammed onto the table with a loud noise.

The suite suddenly went silent. I instinctively looked up and met a pair of familiar yet icy eyes.

Andre! That face I didn't dare forget even in my dreams, now appeared vividly before me again.

My fingers clenched the wine bottle unconsciously. For a split second, I wanted to smash the red wine on his head, then stab his heart with the broken shards.

But I knew, I couldn't. My life could no longer withstand any more turbulence.

Seeing everyone look at him, he extended his slender fingers and tapped the wine glass.

"Pour the wine." His voice was cold, as if he had never known me.

I lowered my head obediently. As I stood, Brody awkwardly pulled his hand back.

I smoothly filled each businessman's glass with the decanted wine, then used the excuse of fetching another crate to leave the room.

I thought that after all these years, time and suffering had drained every last emotion from me. But the moment I stepped out the door, two lines of tears rolled down my cheeks.

That long-forgotten feeling of humiliation weighed down on my chest again, it was heavy and suffocating.

I had imagined countless times that if I saw Andre again, I would throw everything aside and fight him to the death.

But when I truly saw him, I still had to bow my head, rational and humble, for the sake of survival.

There was no time to adjust my emotions. I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and carried the second crate back.

Halfway there Andre appeared head-on. As we passed each other, he suddenly pulled me back.

I twisted my ankle and fell to my knees with the wine in my arms. My knees hurt terribly, but I didn't dare loosen my grip on the wine. Not even one bottle in this crate could I afford to break.

A flicker of complicated emotion flashed through Andre's eyes, then came his mocking words, "Josephine, you're just as cheap as your mother. Does she know you're here serving drinks?"

I limped back home and Cedric, my son, was still fast asleep.

Unlike when I left, now he was tightly hugging my pajamas, his little face buried in them, as if that was his only sense of safety.

A wave of bitterness rose in my chest. I leaned down and kissed his little face. Back then, everyone told me to abort the baby. But I didn't.

I was filled with hatred toward Andre, to the point I lost all reason. I wanted to give birth to the child and use him to torment Andre and then, years later, once he was married, I'd bring the child to him.

By then, his peaceful life would be completely turned upside down by me. I thought, if I couldn't have peace, neither should he.

But later, when the child was actually born, I just couldn't bring myself to hurt him. He was soft and squishy and every time he cried, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.

As he grew a little older, he would hug my legs, look up with innocent eyes and call me in that sweet voice, "Mommy." In those moments, all my hatred seemed to melt away.

So I changed his name from Aiden Hillsmith to Cedric Whiteley. What sin had an innocent child committed?

I no longer wanted to push him toward Andre. I wanted to hide him away and protect him from all harm and pain. But fate liked to play cruel jokes.

When Cedric was four, he was diagnosed with leukemia and had to go to the hospital regularly for blood transfusions.

The high cost of treatment had already drained my parents' savings and Cedric himself had grown thin and frail from the countless procedures. Life's suffering hadn't spared him, or me.

As I touched Cedric's thin cheeks, for the first time, I thought about sending him away.

Andre now looked like he had money and after all, no one's bone marrow would match better than a biological relative's. But … would he really be willing to save Cedric?

He hated me so much, hated my mom so much, would that hatred extend to Cedric too? I didn't dare gamble.

With that anxiety, I slowly closed my eyes. Ever since Mom died, I had nightmares every night, tonight was no exception.

Maybe it was because I had seen Andre again, but the images in my dream were especially vivid.

I was back on the day of the proposal, standing beneath the big screen, waiting for Andre's surprise. But he never came.

What came instead was a video suddenly playing on the big screen, drawing a crowd of onlookers.

I stared at those scenes and waves of humiliation, shame and disgrace all crashed over me. The stares from the crowd were like knives, stabbing countless bloody holes in me.

As my breathing grew more rapid, I heard the voices of my teachers and classmates.

"Josephine, given your current situation, the school believes it's best you take a break from your studies."

"Look, that's the girl. Pretty face, wild behavior, completely chaotic private life."

"Hehehe, do you think if I chase her, she'd sleep with me too?"

"So dirty. How did someone like her get into our school? She's a disgrace to all students."

"Sigh, we studied hard for twelve years to get into this top university and now the school's reputation is ruined by someone like her. One bad apple spoils the whole barrel."

…

"No, it's not like that, we're …" My mind was pushed to the brink. I held my head and frantically denied it.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded behind me, cutting off my words.

I turned around and saw my mother, covered in blood, hanging upside down inside the car.

She slowly reached out to me, her lips endlessly murmuring my name, "Josephine, Josephine, don't be scared …"

"Mom!" I jolted awake in terror, my chest still tight and trembling. This nightmare had haunted me for nine years.

Cedric clung to my neck, his cold little face pressed against mine, "Mommy, don't be scared. Cedric is here. I will always be with Mommy."

My reason slowly returned. I hugged his tiny body back, my voice hoarse, "Yes … with you here, Mommy's not afraid."

But his next words nearly made my heart stop, "Mommy, Grandpa seems to have fallen in the bathroom."

I rushed into the bathroom and the scene before me made my eyes burn with fury. My father's colostomy bag had burst, feces and urine scattered everywhere.

The wheelchair had toppled over nearby. He was lying in the filth, struggling to get up, his fingernails torn.

I rushed in, "Dad, didn't I say? If you need anything, just call me, okay?"

"You get out, don't look. Get out …" he stuttered.

I didn't listen to him. Though he was ashamed, I still removed his clothes piece by piece, cleaned him up and attached a new bag.

As I tended to the wounds on his fingernails, his eyes reddened with tears, "If only I could join your mother sooner, you'd have one less burden."

My hand paused as I applied the medicine and I forced the tears back down, "Dad, I already lost Mom. I can't lose you too."

His expression grew even more sorrowful. His trembling right hand reached out, trying to touch my right ear, "It's my fault. I failed you."

I pressed his hand against my face and forced a natural smile, "It's okay, Dad. I still have one ear that can hear. It's no problem."

After finishing the treatment, I had Cedric wheel him out to the balcony to see the flowers and get some fresh air, while I went to clean the bathroom.

Once the door was shut, I leaned against the wall and let my body slide down in exhaustion.

Yesterday, Andre asked me, "Does your mother know you're a bar girl now?"

I wanted to know too, was my mom watching all of this from heaven? Would she blame me? But I had no choice. After my father's stroke left him paralyzed, he couldn't be left alone. Cedric's treatments needed constant money.

A 'bad girl' like me, expelled in my first year of college and half-deaf, how many jobs would hire me? All I could choose was nightlife work. The hours fit and the pay was fast.

I once struggled for dignity. I once slapped a boss I couldn't bear. But dignity didn't pay the bills and it didn't cure Cedric's illness. Instead, I had to forfeit half a year's wages just to compensate that boss.

After that day, I forced myself to endure, numbing myself like an emotionless machine.

What's wrong with a touch? What's wrong with a kiss? If it could save my dad and Cedric, I'd even jump myself to the sea.

I never wanted to collapse in tears at the nurse's station again just because I couldn't afford the fees while Cedric was having an attack.

I kept telling myself, I have to make a lot of money. I have to send my dad to the best rehabilitation center. I have to get Cedric a bone marrow transplant, so he can grow up healthy.

But that dream … felt forever out of reach.