The morning after the storm was strangely quiet. The streets glistened under the weak sunlight, and the world smelled of rain and renewal.
But for Meilin, peace felt fragile — like thin glass that could shatter with a whisper.
She stood at the sink washing dishes, lost in thought. Rui had gone to work early, leaving a soft kiss on her forehead before he left. It had felt gentle… real. Something she hadn't known how much she needed until now.
Then her phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
She frowned and answered. "Hello?"
A voice she'd once known too well slid through the line like poison.
> "You sound calmer than I expected, Meilin."
Her heart froze. "Li Chen."
He chuckled. "Ah, so you still remember me. I was starting to think you'd forgotten our little secrets."
Meilin's hand trembled. "What do you want?"
> "Nothing big," he said casually. "Just a meeting. One last conversation — for old times' sake. Or should I tell your husband about what you told me the night before you left him?"
Her stomach twisted. That night. The one she'd buried deep, the one she'd sworn never to think about again.
> "You don't have to do this," she whispered.
> "Oh, but I do. Tomorrow, 8 p.m., The Phoenix Hotel. Come alone, or the world will know what kind of woman you really are."
The call ended before she could respond.
Meilin sank onto the kitchen chair, her breath shallow. The past was clawing its way back, and this time, she didn't know if love alone could save her.
---
That evening, Rui returned home and noticed immediately that something was off.
Meilin's smile was too tight. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of her dress.
He walked to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
She forced a laugh. "Nothing, really. Just… tired."
But Rui had learned to read her now — the small tremor in her voice, the way she avoided his eyes.
"Meilin," he said softly, "I told you, you don't have to face anything alone anymore."
Her throat ached with unshed truth. She wanted to tell him everything — the blackmail, the shame, the things Li Chen could expose. But she couldn't. Not yet.
So she just nodded. "I know."
Later that night, when Rui went to tuck Xiaoya into bed, he lingered by the door, watching Meilin through the half-open crack. She sat at her desk, staring at a piece of paper — the hotel address written neatly across it.
Something inside him shifted uneasily.
---
The next evening, Meilin arrived at The Phoenix Hotel. The rain had started again, fine and relentless, like fate refusing to rest.
Li Chen sat by the window, swirling a glass of wine, smirking when he saw her. "You came."
"Say what you have to say," she replied sharply.
He slid a folder across the table. "Inside is everything you told me years ago — every confession, every lie you thought was forgotten. I could destroy you with this."
She met his gaze steadily. "Then do it. I won't let you control me anymore."
Li Chen's smile faded. He hadn't expected her to fight back.
> "You think Rui will still love you when he learns the truth?"
> "Yes," she said firmly. "Because this time, I won't run."
For the first time, Li Chen's confidence cracked.
But outside the hotel, a car engine idled — Rui's car. He had followed her. His face was unreadable as he watched through the rain-streaked window, seeing
the woman he loved face her past alone.
And something deep inside him began to unravel.