Chapter 2

3 AM. I pushed open the door to my rental in the slums.

The cold wind stung my face. Handmade hair clips scattered across the floor.

This was my fifth job of the day.

5:30 AM—delivering milk.

Noon—washing dishes at a restaurant for three hours.

Afternoon—handing out flyers in the shopping district for four hours.

Evening—working the night shift at a convenience store for eight hours.

After getting off work in the early morning, I still had to rush to make handmade hair clips to earn money for the next day's groceries.

I'd lived like this for three whole years.

Three years ago, Ethan knelt before me with red-rimmed eyes, saying his company had gone bankrupt. He owed eight million in debt, creditors were hounding him daily, and he was at his wit's end.

Ethan and I had been together for seven years.

From college campus to his entrepreneurial success, I'd accompanied him through days of having nothing and witnessed him standing at the peak.

That day, I held him, patting his back and saying: "It's okay. I'm here. We'll pay back the money slowly. As long as you're safe, nothing else matters."

I quit my stable nine-to-five job with a monthly salary over ten thousand and started working around the clock.

To help him pay off his debts, I sold the only property my parents had left me—my last safety net in this city.

I moved from a well-furnished apartment with a river view to this slum rental that cost three hundred a month, had no air conditioning, and leaked when it rained in summer. I couldn't even afford the five-dollar subway fare and cycled halfway across the city every day.

Though exhausting, it was also happiness.

I crouched down to pick up the hair clips when suddenly my stomach churned violently.

I rushed into the bathroom, coughing violently.

It was blood.

I froze, then frantically turned on the faucet to wash it away, forcing a smile at myself in the mirror.

It's fine. Just been too tired lately. My old stomach problem acting up. It'll get better with rest.

I couldn't break down. Ethan was already struggling enough. I couldn't add to his troubles.

Walking out of the bathroom, I found Ethan awake, leaning against the headboard, his eyes red-rimmed.

He came over and hugged me, his chin resting on top of my head, his voice choked: "Susan, I'm sorry. It's all my fault, my uselessness, making you suffer like this with me."

I hugged him back, hiding my injured hands behind me, smiling as I comforted him: "Don't talk nonsense. We're a couple—we should share both joy and hardship. We'll pay back the money slowly. We'll clear it eventually. As long as we're together, there's no obstacle we can't overcome."

He held me tighter. I couldn't see his face, only heard his low sigh.

Back then, I was still immersed in the dream I'd woven of sharing hardships together.

I didn't notice at all that when he held me, his eyes showed not a trace of guilt, only a hint of amusement at a wager about to be won.

A knock came at the door.

It was his childhood friend, Vivian Taylor.

She wore a designer coat and high heels, standing at the doorway.

She glanced condescendingly at the shabby rental, her eyes full of disdain, and said to Ethan: "Ethan, I came to check on you. Also wanted to remind you—those people are pressing again. Don't lose the bet and embarrass yourself."

She turned to look at me, her lips curling into a mocking smile: "Susan, you really can take it. If it were me, I'd have run long ago."

Ethan frowned, pulling me behind him protectively, saying to Vivian: "Stop talking nonsense. Susan isn't like that."

I just assumed Vivian looked down on my poverty and smiled without responding.

Back then, I had no idea what their "bet" meant.

They were betting on my life.

Betting on three years of my wholehearted devotion.

Betting on this life of mine that had been worked to destruction.

I turned to heat up breakfast for Ethan, not hearing Vivian lean close to his ear and say with a smile: "Three more months until the bet expires. Ethan, you're about to win. You'd better compensate me well then."

Ethan looked at my back, his lips curling into a careless smile, and softly hummed in agreement.