Love, Lies, and Legacy
I wore the off-white dress he gave me just last week, clutching a Champagne glass, trying hard to blend into the noisy crowd.
Ryan Lancaster was surrounded by several colleagues toasting him; his profile gleamed under the crystal chandelier, as handsome as on our wedding day.
He turned to me with a smile, reaching out to hold my hand, but accidentally stumbled.
A black, worn wallet slipped out from his suit's inner pocket and fell onto the carpet.
It was the wallet he had used for five years, its corners worn; I had mentioned wanting to replace it several times, but he always said he was used to it.
Pete Zimmerman quickly stepped forward to pick up the wallet beside me; he's Ryan Lancaster's childhood friend and the company's vice president.
Pete shook the wallet and grinned, teasing, "Ryan, you're still carrying this 'family heirloom'? I still remember that string of passwords from back then."
Ryan's face instantly darkened as he reached for the wallet. "Don't speak nonsense."
My heart skipped a beat. I had asked him before about the wallet's lock password, and he said it was just some random numbers he set.
Pete didn't notice Ryan's expression and leaned closer to me, lowering his voice:
"Stella, you don't know, do you? This password '4891' is about Ryan and Jessica."
The name Jessica Stephenson felt like a sharp needle suddenly piercing my heart.
She is Ryan Lancaster's ex; I had only heard that name in fragments from his friends, and he never brought her up himself.
Pete Zimmerman, probably drunk, went on: "Back then, Jessica had an abortion on the 8th of April."
"Ryan stayed outside the delivery room all night, smoked 89 cigarettes, and in the end, only said 'sorry' to her. That's where this number comes from."
My fingers instantly turned ice-cold, the champagne glass trembling slightly in my hand.
So the "random numbers" he mentioned were hiding such a deep past.
At that moment, a gentle voice came from behind, "Pete Zimmerman, after all these years, why are you still bringing this up?"
I turned around and saw Jessica Stephenson standing not far away.
She wore a red dress, her curly hair cascading over her shoulders, her face showing just the right touch of grievance.
Ryan Lancaster immediately stepped forward, standing between me and her. "Why are you here?"
"I'm here to see an old friend. Isn't that allowed?" Jessica Stephenson walked past him, her eyes fixed straight on me.
"Stella, I'm really sorry to have to tell you these unpleasant things."
"Actually, Ryan and I have long been over; it's just that he's sentimental and keeps things from the past."
Her words felt like hooks—seeming apologetic, but actually bragging.
I clenched my fists tightly, forcing down the emotions inside. "Ms. Stephenson, the past should stay in the past. He is my husband now."
"Is that so?" Jessica Stephenson gave a soft laugh and pulled an old photo from her bag.
"Look, this is a photo Ryan Lancaster took outside the delivery room back then. He still has it saved on his phone."
"And this wallet—I gave it to him years ago. He's never had the heart to replace it."
In the photo, Ryan Lancaster sits on a chair in the corridor, his hair disheveled, a cigarette tucked between his fingers, his eyes vacant.
It felt like my heart had been violently shattered, the pain so fierce I could barely breathe.
Ryan snatched the photo and crumpled it into a ball. "Jessica Stephenson, don't push me too far!"
"Me? Push too far?" Jessica's voice rose several tones. "Ryan Lancaster, do you really dare say you don't have any feelings for me anymore?"
"Do you really dare to say this password is just a string of numbers to you?"
Everyone around turned to look, their pointing and whispering swelling like a tide.
I looked at Ryan Lancaster, waiting for him to explain.
But he only frowned, not saying a single word.
At that moment, all trust and sense of security shattered.
I grabbed my bag and turned to walk away.
"Stella, don't go!" Ryan caught up and tried to grab my hand.
I shook him off. "Ryan, I need to calm down."
The elevator doors slowly closed as I watched his anxious face disappear, tears finally spilling down my cheeks.
When I got home, it was already one in the morning.
The living room was pitch dark, with only the faint light from the entryway sensor lamp.
I changed my shoes and quietly made my way to the study.
Ryan Lancaster and I used to have a habit of reading together in the study before going to sleep.
The study door was locked with a password; the previous code was our wedding anniversary.
I entered the numbers, but the screen displayed "Incorrect password."
A growing sense of unease settled over me.
I tried Ryan Lancaster's birthday, but it was still incorrect.
My fingers hesitated, then on an impulse, I entered Jessica Stephenson's birthday — a date I had seen on his old calendar before.
With a "beep," the door opened.
The study light was off; moonlight streamed through the window, revealing a clutter of belongings inside.
I turned on the light and froze instantly.
The bookshelf was filled with photos of Jessica Stephenson and paintings she had created.
On the desk sat her trophies, beside a thick stack of picture books signed by Jessica Stephenson.
I picked up the picture book and flipped to the first page; the story inside sent a chill down my spine.
It was the fairy tale manuscript I wrote, Lost Star—I had only shown it to Ryan Lancaster and hadn't yet published it.
But now, it has become Jessica Stephenson's work, and it even won the National Children's Literature Award.
My hands trembled, and the picture book slipped to the floor.
My eyes scanned the drawer under the desk, and I pulled it open. Inside lay a familiar collar.
It was the collar of Harry's pet cat, Snowball.
Snowball went missing three months ago. We searched everywhere but never found him. Ryan said he might have run off.
I picked up the collar, which still had a faint dark red stain on it.
At that moment, footsteps echoed from behind me.
Ryan Lancaster stood at the door, his expression shifting when he saw the collar in my hand. "Stella, why are you here?"
"What's going on?" I lifted the collar, my voice shaking.
"Why is Snowball's collar here? Why has my manuscript been claimed as Jessica Stephenson's work?"
Ryan stepped forward, trying to grab the collar. "Stella, don't get upset. Let me explain."
"I want to hear your explanation!" I stepped back, dodging his hand.
"Why was the study password changed to Jessica Stephenson's birthday? Why is everything here hers? Tell me!"
Ryan Lancaster was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "Jessica has been looking for a place to put her paintings and trophies lately. I thought the study was empty, so I let her put them here for now."
"The manuscript matter might be a misunderstanding, maybe just a coincidental similarity in your thinking."
"A coincidence?" I sneered, "My manuscript has my unique mark, right in the corner of the last page. Do you dare say Jessica Stephenson's work has that too?"
"And Snowball's collar—you said it got lost, so why is its collar here? What are those stains on it?"
"I..." Ryan Lancaster faltered, then after a moment said, "It was Jessica who accidentally lost it. After she found it, she put it here. I just forgot to tell you."
His explanation was full of holes; I didn't believe it for a second.
"Ryan Lancaster, do you still love her?" I stared into his eyes, hoping to catch even the slightest sign of hesitation.
But he just avoided my gaze and said, "It's late. Let's go to bed. We can talk about it tomorrow if there's anything."
With that, he turned and left the study, closing the door behind him.
I looked at the room full of Jessica's belongings, at the picture book on the floor, feeling completely hollow inside.
It turns out that all this time, he had been keeping me in the dark.
I sat on the floor, tears silently streaming down my face, only getting up to return to my room as dawn approached.
The next morning, I was awakened by Harry's crying.
I rushed into his room and saw Harry lying in bed, his face flushed and his body burning with fever.
"Harry, what's wrong?" I reached out to feel his forehead—it was scorching hot.
Harry weakly said, "Mom, my head hurts, and my whole body aches."
I immediately picked him up, ready to take him to the hospital.
Before leaving, I called Ryan Lancaster, but no one picked up.
I sent him a message again, but still received no reply.
With no other option, I held Harry and took a taxi to the hospital.
At the hospital, the doctor examined Harry and, with a grave expression, said to me:
"The child suddenly developed a high fever that led to convulsions. The preliminary diagnosis is a hereditary blood disorder, but further tests are necessary to confirm it. Also, the medical expenses will be very high."
A hereditary blood disorder?
I was completely stunned—how could this happen?
I quickly called Ryan again, and this time he finally answered.
"Ryan Lancaster, Harry is sick. He's in the hospital, and the doctor said it might be a hereditary blood disorder. You need to come quickly!" I was so anxious I almost cried.
There was background noise from the other end, and Ryan's voice sounded impatient:
"I'm busy right now. Jessica is going abroad for an art exchange, and I have to help her with the paperwork."
"You take care of Harry for now. If anything happens, we'll talk after I'm done."
"Ryan!" I raised my voice. "Harry is your son! He's sick and needs you! How can you just ignore him?"
"It's not that I don't care, it's just that I really can't get away right now." Ryan Lancaster's voice turned cold. "Cover the Medical Expenses for now; I'll pay you back later."
After saying that, he hung up.
I held the phone, my heart sinking to the bottom.
At that moment, Ryan's mother rushed over.
As soon as she entered the ward, she started scolding me harshly, "Stella Yip, how can you be a mother? You can't even take care of your own child!"
"If anything happens to Harry, I won't forgive you!"
"Mom, now's not the time to say that. Harry needs treatment." I swallowed my grievances and spoke.
"Treatment? Where's the money?" Ryan's mother placed her hands on her hips. "Do you think Ryan earns money easily?"
"You stay home all day without working, and now that Harry is sick, you want to spend money? I think you're just a jinx!"
Her words pierced me like knives.
I didn't argue with her anymore and turned to pay the fees.
I withdrew all my savings and paid the initial medical expenses.
That night, I stayed in the ward with Harry; even asleep, he murmured softly.
I took out my phone and scrolled through a Moments post.
It was posted by Pete Zimmerman. The photo showed a party scene where Ryan Lancaster was drinking with Jessica Stephenson. They were both smiling happily.
So when he said he was "busy," it meant he was attending the party with Jessica Stephenson.
Tears fell from my eyes once again, and the disappointment in my heart deepened.
On the third day, Harry's test results arrived, confirming he had a hereditary blood disorder. He needed to be hospitalized immediately for treatment.
Clutching the diagnostic report, I called Ryan Lancaster again.
He still isn't answering.
I had no choice but to take a taxi to his company.
When I got downstairs at the company, I saw Ryan Lancaster and Jessica Stephenson coming out of the elevator.
Jessica was holding his arm, a sweet smile on her face.
"Ryan!" I rushed over and thrust the diagnostic report in front of him. "Harry's diagnosis is in. He needs immediate treatment. Give me the money!"
Ryan frowned when he saw me. "Stella, what are you doing here?"
"If I don't come, are you planning to keep ignoring Harry?" I looked at him, my voice trembling with tears, "He is your son, how can you be so heartless?"
Jessica let go of Ryan's arm, stepped in front of me, and feigned sympathy, saying, "Stella, don't be upset."
"Ryan isn't neglecting Harry, it's just that I've been pregnant lately and not feeling well, so he has to take care of me."
"And this art exchange trip abroad is very important to me, so I need some money, that's why..."
Pregnant?
I looked at Jessica Stephenson's belly, feeling as if I had been struck by lightning.
Ryan Lancaster is actually taking care of his pregnant ex while Harry is sick?
"Ryan, is what she said true?" I looked at him, hoping he would deny it.
Ryan was silent for a moment, then nodded: "Yes, Jessica is pregnant. I can't just ignore her."
"Figure out a way to cover Harry's medical expenses. Once I'm done with Jessica's matters, I'll give you the money."
"Figure out a way? What choice do I have?" I looked at him and suddenly remembered that password.
"Ryan, is the password to your wallet '4891' really what Pete said? Is it the memory from the day you and Jessica had a miscarriage?"
"Have you never forgotten her?"
Ryan Lancaster's face went instantly pale. He looked at me, opened his mouth, but couldn't say a word.
His silence was the clearest answer.
So all these years, I had been living in his lies.
Darkness clouded my vision, my body swayed, and I collapsed.
When I woke, I was already lying in a hospital bed.
Ryan Lancaster and the doctor stood by my side.
The doctor held out a report to Ryan Lancaster. "You must be the patient's relative. She's been diagnosed with advanced stomach cancer and needs to be hospitalized immediately for treatment."
Stage IV stomach cancer?
I stared at the doctor, unable to believe my own ears.
Ryan Lancaster held the report, his hands shaking.
He glanced at me once, then turned and walked away.
"Ryan Lancaster!" I called out to him, "Are you really just going to leave like this?"
He stopped, his back turned to me, his voice barely above a whisper: "I... I'm going to arrange your hospital admission."
But I waited a long time, and he never came back.
The nurse told me that after he left with the report, he never returned.
Lying on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, my heart filled with despair.
Not only do I have to face my own cancer, but I also have to worry about Harry's condition, and the person I love most chose to leave when I needed him the most.
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