The Hayes family came to the orphanage to choose a daughter – a sister for their son, Adrian. Every child hoped to be selected. Everyone except me. I was hiding in the old tree in the backyard.
In this life, I refused to become a Hayes. I wouldn’t become Adrian’s wife, trapped in that gilded cage, suffocating, wasting away my life. This time, I only wanted an ordinary, free life.
But as I climbed down, I found Adrian leaning against the trunk.
He looked up at me, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Chloe. Did you have fun up there?”
The moment I saw Adrian, I almost thought my worst nightmare was unfolding again.
It wasn’t until Ms. Evelyn, the orphanage director, scurried over, her voice a mix of reprimand and urgency. “Chloe! What are you doing here? Mr. Hayes has been looking for you everywhere!”
Only then did I snap back to reality. This wasn’t a dream. This was a second chance, a crucial turning point in my restarted life. I froze.
Ms. Evelyn pulled me down from the tree, brushed the dust off my clothes, straightened my collar, and gently pushed me towards Adrian. “This child is usually very well-behaved. I don’t know what got into her today.” She explained in a low voice.
Adrian, however, just stared at me, his gaze holding a disturbing intensity I couldn’t read. He offered a slight smile and extended a hand. “Chloe, it’s a pleasure.”
The way he said my name sent a familiar jolt through me, a heart stopping sensation like being caught in a web. I took an instinctive step backward, avoiding his eyes as alarm bells screamed in my head.
Why? I’d tried to hide, to disappear. Why did he still find me? Why did it have to be me?
“Why me?” I heard my own voice, dry and hoarse.
Ms. Evelyn bent down, explaining softly and kindly, “Chloe, Mr. Hayes wants to take you home. You’ll have a new family, a mom, a dad, and…” She glanced at Adrian. “You’ll even have an older brother.”
Ms. Evelyn’s smile was genuinely relieved. In her eyes, this was the best possible outcome for an orphan. But she didn’t know. I’d lived it once. I knew exactly what that outcome tasted like.
“Chloe, will you come home with me?” Adrian’s voice was softer than I remembered from his youth in my past life, even carrying a hint of… seduction?
This scene was too familiar. Memories of my past life flooded back.
The strict etiquette lessons. The endless piano practice, learning to mimic every move, every word of his deceased sister.
And then, the orchestrated wedding night. The fifteen years of a marriage filled with mutual disgust, where we tormented each other daily.
“No.” I cut him off sharply, looking up at Ms. Evelyn. “Ms. Evelyn, I don’t want to be adopted.”
The air instantly froze. Adrian’s reaction was the strongest. He frowned slightly, but there was no anger, only a persistent question. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to be your sister.” I met his gaze, trying to find a crack in his composure.
My blunt refusal seemed to amuse him. He smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. His voice softened further, an inappropriate indulgence in his tone. “Then you don’t have to be my sister. Just come back to the Hayes house, live with us, okay?”
Ms. Evelyn tugged at my sleeve discreetly, but I shook my head again. “No.”
I thought my firm refusal would make him give up. But when Ms. Evelyn hesitantly asked Mr. and Mrs. Hayes if they wanted to see other children, Adrian spoke with unwavering conviction. “Dad, Mom, I only want her.”
He looked at me, his gaze heavy, and added the line that echoed from my past life: “Only she reminds me most of Mia.”
In my past life, Adrian chose me because my eyes and brows bore a resemblance to his sister, Mia, who had tragically passed away young. Back then, I’d thought it was a stroke of luck, a blessing from above.
I was brought back to the Hayes’ mansion, my name changed to Chloe Hayes, and placed in a meticulously decorated room that never truly felt like mine. Mrs. Hayes declared, “Orphanage kids tend to pick up habits that aren’t exactly presentable. We need to fix that.”
So I worked tirelessly to shed every ‘bad habit,’ becoming poised and graceful, less and less like the Chloe I was, and more and more like the Mia in their memories.
Mrs. Hayes was relentlessly strict. I had to practice piano for at least six hours a day. Even when the teacher politely suggested I had limited talent, Mrs. Hayes would sit with me every single day.
“It’s alright, Chloe. Hard work pays off. Mia had to practice just as hard.”
It wasn’t until later that I understood: playing the piano was Mia’s passion. They were desperately trying to mold me into someone else’s shadow. But I didn’t care.
A dying fish wouldn’t complain about murky wate. It just wants to live. Love, to me, was just another means to that end.
I worked even harder, striving to become the Chloe Hayes they wanted, to win Mrs. Hayes’s approval, and to secretly catch Adrian’s eye. We truly seemed like a family.
Then came the night of Adrian’s engagement party to a socialite from an equally prominent family. He was drugged, completely out of control, and I mistakenly stumbled into his room.
Mr. Hayes immediately suffered a heart attack from the shock. Mrs. Hayes slapped me across the face, her eyes icy cold. “If I’d known this would happen, I never would have let you through our door!”
Adrian watched me in silence, his expression unreadable. I thought, he probably regretted it too. Regretted picking me, this ‘disaster.’
“It wasn’t me, I didn’t know.” My explanations were useless. No one believed me.
In the marriage that followed, Adrian used that incident countless times to wound me. “You were so desperate to marry into this family, you’d even drug your own… me. Chloe, this is your karma.”
He hated me, and so, after our wedding, he found endless ways to humiliate me, making me the laughingstock of our social circle. Everyone bet our marriage wouldn’t last a year.
“Once she has the baby, Adrian will definitely dump her.”
But tragically, he and I were entangled for two decades. Even when I died from a severe illness, my tombstone still bore the inscription, ‘Adrian Hayes’ Wife.’
“Chloe, tell me, why are you so against it?” After Mr. and Mrs. Hayes left, Ms. Evelyn brought me to her office, her voice confused and worried.
I was silent for a long time before I finally whispered, “I can’t bear to leave here. I can’t bear to leave you.”
Ms. Evelyn sighed, urging me to reconsider. I knew she meant well. But my mind was set on escaping my predetermined fate.
However, that very night, an accidental fire broke out in the orphanage kitchen. A single blaze shattered all my plans.
“Did you do this?” The hospital’s antiseptic smell stung my nostrils. I stared at Adrian, who had rushed over, and coldly questioned him. He paused, looking weary from travel, then gave a bitter smile. “Chloe, do you really think so little of me?”
“The fire inspection said it was old wiring. I just… wanted to help.” He looked towards the intensive care unit. “I’ll cover Ms. Evelyn’s medical expenses. As long as you…” He paused, his voice low. “As long as you agree to come home with me.”
I scoffed. “Taking advantage of someone at their lowest? Is that what a ‘good person’ does?”
Adrian didn’t argue. He just said, “You don’t have to be my sister. Just stay at the Hayes’ house for now. My mom… she’s been very emotional lately. Seeing you might bring her some comfort.”
The reason was exactly the same as in my past life. I looked at the young but intensely serious Adrian before me, and suddenly felt incredibly tired.
“Is that all?”
His eyes flickered, and he nodded. “That’s all.”
Finally, looking at the unconscious Ms. Evelyn, I nodded. I couldn’t just watch her treatment be delayed because of medical costs.
On the car ride back to the Hayes’ mansion, Adrian tried to make conversation, but I remained silent. He watched the fleeting streetlights outside the window and said softly, “The Hayes family can give you a better life and future than the orphanage. Chloe, don’t blame me. I’m doing this for your own good.”
“I’m doing this for your own good.”
Adrian had fed me that line countless times in my past life. He despised me. He made me suffer. Yet, in my final days, he developed this absurd, possessive remorse.
When he threw away the cat I had rescued, the one comfort I had left in my sickness, he used those same empty words: “It’s for your own good.”
That’s when I knew. His “for your own good” was just for his own conscience. It was always about him.
When we arrived at the Hayes’ residence, Mrs. Hayes was indeed waiting outside. The moment she saw me, she rushed forward, her smile warm but tinged with exhaustion. “Chloe, you’re here? Your room’s all ready for you.” She took my hand and led me upstairs, pushing open a door.
It was the familiar room: lace curtains, a four-poster bed draped in silks, plush toys overflowing from every corner, and that gleaming, expensive grand piano. Everything was just as Mia had left it, preserved perfectly.
“Do you like it?” Mrs. Hayes looked at me expectantly.
I pulled my hand away, lowering my eyes. “Mrs. Hayes, this is your daughter’s room, isn’t it? These things are very precious. It wouldn’t be right for me to stay here. What if I broke something? The guest room downstairs would be fine.”
Mrs. Hayes froze for a moment, still wanting to insist. “But…”
“Mom.” Adrian cut her off. “Let’s just do what Chloe wants. She prefers quiet.” He looked at me, his eyes seemingly seeing through my evasion. His room was right next door.
In my past life, before the engagement incident, Adrian and I had a relatively good relationship.
In our teenage years, when Mrs. Hayes playfully asked what kind of boy I liked, I’d looked at Adrian, fresh from his workout, and blurted out, “Someone just like him.” That innocent remark later became irrefutable ‘proof’ that I had ‘coveted’ him and resorted to despicable tactics to marry him.
Every time I struggled to explain, “I didn’t do that,” he’d grip my chin, his eyes cold, a sneer on his lips. “You said you liked me at sixteen, liked me enough to use such low-down schemes? Chloe, you disgust me.”
Perhaps it was being back in the old place, but that night, I was tormented by nightmares.
I dreamt of myself, gravely ill, with the doctor advising, “Let your family and friends visit more often.”
I shook my head. “I have no family.”
Friends? My best friend back then was Skylar, Adrian’s fiancée.
Five years into my marriage with Adrian, Skylar returned from studying abroad. Adrian personally picked her up and threw a lavish welcome-home party for her.
Someone ‘kindly’ sent me a video – in a secluded corner booth, they were locked in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the world.
A short, few-second video, I watched it on repeat all night. The next day, I went to the hospital to abort our accidentally conceived second child, and then placed divorce papers in front of Adrian.
He asked, “Why?”
I showed him the video. “Skylar’s back. Let’s get a divorce.” I had tried to divorce him many times before, and each time he refused. I thought, this time, he’d agree. But he shredded the agreement, deleted the video, and glared at me. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Chloe? Chloe!” I was shaken awake, still trembling with fear, and instinctively slapped him. The sharp crack of the slap echoed loudly in the night. A younger Adrian clutched his cheek, looking at me in shock, his eyes holding both hurt and concern. “I heard you crying…” He finished, then turned towards the door, pausing at the frame. “Breakfast is ready. I’ll drive you to your new school after you eat.”
Just like in my past life, I transferred to the elite private school Adrian attended. As I followed him into the classroom, countless eyes immediately fell on us. “Adrian, who’s she?” someone asked curiously.
Adrian smiled slightly, introducing me. “This is Chloe. She’s staying with my family for now.” He glossed over the word “for now.”
I watched his tall, straight back, and suddenly noticed something felt off. The Adrian before me wasn’t as distant as he’d been as a teenager in my past life, nor as gloomy and cold as he’d become later. My heart gave a sudden leap, and an absurd thought surfaced.
“Adrian.” I called out to him.
Almost simultaneously, another voice spoke up. “Adrian.”
We both turned. Standing at the classroom door was Skylar.
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