What they didn’t know was my only goal: to break up with him.
"Cassie Hart, I was in a car accident — and you don’t even come see me?"
Before I could answer, Ethan Sterling kept talking to himself. "Everyone says I have memory loss, that you ran off with someone else."
"Uh…"
I stared at Ethan in horror, unable to form a single word.
On his head sat an explosive, over-the-top flashy emo-style haircut — a full-on "firework perm."
Strands of hair stood out like claws, slathered in hair gel that caught the light.
A silver cross earring glittered from his right ear, swinging as he moved.
Around his neck hung a matching silver chain, an old-fashioned style that might’ve come from another decade.
Are we filming some kind of Y2K nostalgia short?
"Ridiculous, memory loss my foot."
He snorted. "I’m Sterling royalty — how could I believe such nonsense?"
"Uh…"
I took a deep breath, reminding myself that yes, it was really 2021 — the only thing wrong here was the guy whose head had been knocked around.
He was spouting lines nobody writes on TV anymore and calling out a name that sounded like a heroine from a ten-year-old romance. My mouth kept twitching.
It was humiliating — like some bizarre artistic revival.
"Cassie Hart, Mr. Sterling wants you to remember this.
You, woman, I treat you as my whole life."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Ethan hooked my chin and pressed warm lips to mine.
My brain went totally blank.
Are you kidding me?
I was only playing along for the money — nobody said I had to sleep with him…
-2-Things actually started with a phone call last night.
When my mom called I felt a wave of dread. No guessing required — my gambling-addicted mother was asking for money again.
The moment I picked up, sounds of breaking things, shattering glass, and my mother’s desperate crying flooded my ears.
Only then did I realize this debt wasn’t a little couple-thousand problem.
"You’re Anna Walker, Margo Liu’s daughter, right?"
A rough, menacing voice snarled at me. "I’ll give you one month. If you can’t come up with five hundred thousand, you and your mother can start sleeping on the street."
He slammed the phone at my mother so she would explain everything to me.
Turns out she had gambled away her mind, mortgaging our only property deed.
She was breathless with sobs. "Nana, Mama has really thought about this. I’ll never gamble again. Please, help me one last time, okay?"
"Mom, I graduated just over a year ago. Where am I supposed to get five hundred thousand? Every scholarship I ever got went to your debts. Why can’t you stop…"
"Last time, I promise! If you don’t do something, the house your father left will be gone!"
In the end I agreed to help. Not for her, but to keep that little apartment.
There were traces of my late father’s life there, our memories.
So this morning I found myself standing at my boss Margaret Chen’s office door.
She was the only wealthy person I could approach.
I knocked. No answer.
Had Margaret not come in yet?
I leaned to listen at the door. The door wasn’t even locked, and as I rested on it, it swung wide and I tumbled forward, face-first onto the floor.
"Anna? I’m meeting a friend — why didn’t you knock?"
Margaret sounded annoyed. I scrambled up to explain and noticed another woman in the office.
"It’s you? Why are you here?"
The woman looked startled when she saw me.
I quickly stood and sized her up.
Her right ring finger wore a diamond the size of a pigeon egg.
My gut said she was far wealthier than Margaret.
But I’d never met her — why did she sound so confused?
"You know me?" I asked.
Before she could answer, Margaret lit up as if she had a realization. "Mrs. Sterling — could she be the spitting image of your son’s ex? No, you must’ve mistaken her. This is my assistant, Anna Walker. Hey, where’s that photo you sent me? Let me see again."
Margaret pulled up a photo on her phone and compared it to me.
"Wow… no — it’s exactly the same."
Mrs. Sterling was stunned. "You’re really not Claire Hart?"
I shook my head.
"Do you have any long-lost sisters?"
I shook my head even harder.
Mrs. Sterling kept staring. "My goodness, it’s uncanny. How can there be two strangers who look identical?"
"Uh… Margaret, what’s going on here?" I asked.
Margaret explained everything and I finally understood.
Mrs. Sterling was the famous matriarch of Sterling Industries. Her son was Ethan Sterling.
Ethan was the handsome, young company heir. He’d been in love since middle school and had only ever dated one girl, Claire Hart, an orphan.
Two years ago Claire ended things and went abroad, leaving no contact.
Ethan never got over it. Recently he had a car accident and, in his mind, Claire was still by his side.
Doctors said the heartbreak hit him so hard that his memory was frozen in the time he was head-over-heels with Claire. Maybe his subconscious clung to "the best time."
With medical help Ethan regained many functions — he could work and live normally — but he still couldn’t recall the breakup.
Mrs. Sterling had been searching everywhere for Claire, hoping she’d come explain things to Ethan.
But Claire couldn’t be found. So Mrs. Sterling and Margaret schemed: have me impersonate Claire and stage a "breakup performance" with Ethan.
When debt relief and the thought of saving my mother’s house were on the line, I kept refusing. "Uh, I can’t act. Margaret, actually I’m here to—"
Mrs. Sterling cut me off. "After it’s done, fifty thousand. How about it?"
"How much?"
"Five hundred thousand."
"You better think about it…"
"No problem!"
And so I was led to the Sterling Estate by Mrs. Sterling and knocked on Ethan’s suite door.
-3-"Ugh…"
Snap back to reality — I shoved Ethan away, tasting a faint ghost of mint on my lips.
Looking at him properly now, his face was striking: pale skin, thick, long lashes, amber eyes that shimmered, features crafted enough to be called mesmerizing.
But that haircut was impossible to ignore.
It made him look like a giant, blooming purple firework — his emo-style ‘do was in full glory.
Was this Ethan’s teenage aesthetic phase?
"Hmm? Been gone only a bit and you’ve gotten so disobedient."
Ethan stared at me like he could see through me.
"Ah? No no — it’s just being hugged makes me warm, you know… Ethan?"
Instinctively I covered the right side of my face. There was a fake tear beauty mark drawn there with waterproof eyeliner — the single detail that set me apart from the real Claire.
He noticed. "You never used to call me that, Cassie."
"Cassie Hart" — Claire’s old online handle — Mrs. Sterling had already told me on the drive over.
"Call me Mr. Sterling."
Ethan pulled me into a tight hug and breathed in my ear. I silently repeated "five hundred thousand" to steel myself, then forced out, "Mr. Sterling…"
He trembled and buried his face in my shoulder, whispering, "I knew it. You haven’t changed. Everyone calls me Ethan, but you obediently call me Mr. Sterling… Maybe I really do have memory loss — but so what? As long as I have you, that’s enough. Cassie Hart, try to leave me."
For a beat I was stunned.
In twenty-some years, no one had ever said anything like that to me.
Even a firm embrace like that had been rare. The last time I was held like that I was seven, and a drunk neighbor had come banging on our door. My mother had hugged me then, crying silently.
-4-After leaving the Sterling Estate, Ethan had the driver drop me off. I climbed into the car and found Mrs. Sterling sitting in the back.
"How was it?" she asked some questions, had me promise never to fall in love with Ethan, and insisted I should coax him into initiating a breakup so he’d truly be able to move on.
I agreed to everything. She was pleased and handed me a fifty-thousand deposit to hurry things along.
Watching the scenery speed by, I texted my mom to stop worrying about money.
I blushed at the lingering mint on my lips, replaying the tight hug in my head — my feelings churned.
A romance whose purpose is "to break up"? I’d never heard of such a thing.
But maintaining a relationship takes work; ending it is easy, right? Besides…
I gave a bitter little laugh. This was nothing but a carefully orchestrated transaction.
-5-Thanks to Margaret’s approval, I didn’t have to work recently and could stay with Ethan as much as needed.
Today was Ethan’s return to the company.
He called early, asking me to bring breakfast to the office.
"Why aren’t you eating at home? Your house is enormous. You probably have multiple chefs, right?"
Grumpy from being woken, I snapped.
"Hmm? Cassie Hart, haven’t you always loved making me a homemade breakfast? Why the change today?"
Hearing "Cassie Hart" jolted me awake. I sat bolt upright.
"I… I just talked in my sleep," I lied.
"I’m hungry. Hurry up and come."
He hung up.
All drowsiness gone, I remembered Mrs. Sterling saying Claire lived alone and cooked beautifully — Ethan loved her food.
If you want to tie up a CEO’s heart, you tie up his stomach first.
Over the years, I’d long since learned to take care of myself.
If we compared my cooking to Claire Hart’s, we’d be evenly matched—maybe I’d even come out on top.
Maybe Ethan Sterling would try my food and praise “Claire’s” cooking for getting even better.
But I refused to let that happen.
I was determined to make the worst breakfast in history and serve it to Ethan Sterling.
I guarantee he’d take one bite and want to break up with me on the spot.
-6-
With the breakfast bag in hand, I walked into the Sterling Industries building.
The two receptionists straightened up, surprised to see me.
“Miss Hart, why are you back?” one of them asked.
I forced a smile. “Which office is Mr. Sterling in?”
They answered with a thin, mocking grin. “Wow, you really have a short memory, huh? Two years and you already forgot where Ethan’s office is?”
“I remember, I’m just joking,” I said.
Guilty, I hurried past them toward the inner offices to avoid any more awkwardness.
Just as I turned away, snippets of their whisper drifted over—“She actually had the nerve to come back?” “She must have failed abroad and is back to cling to Ethan.” “Hmph, she ran off and left Ethan distraught. If she hadn’t left, he wouldn’t have gotten into that accident and lost his memory…”
So Claire’s leaving really hit Ethan hard.
Their voices faded as I walked on. I shrugged—at least they weren’t talking about me, so whatever.
I followed the corridor until I stopped in front of a door.
The gaudy decorations on it made me one hundred percent sure this was Ethan’s office. Who’d hang shiny chains, crosses, and silver roses on an office door otherwise?
Knock knock—“Come in.”
That was his voice.
I pushed the door open and almost laughed out loud at the familiar purple “firework” hair.
“What are you laughing at?”
Ethan seemed to read my thoughts. “Does my haircut look bad?”
“No, no, I just think you’d still be handsome with a different style.”
I changed the subject fast. “Come eat breakfast!”
From my bag I pulled out the insulated lunchbox containing my “special” love breakfast—seaweed rice rolls drenched in thick mustard and chili oil, winter melon and pork rib soup with a full five spoonfuls of salt, and a few fresh strawberries marinated in white vinegar.
“Huh? Some new ideas today,” Ethan said, smiling apologetically. “But you’re late—I already ate. You should eat it though.”
“What?”
Before I could react, Ethan looped his arm around my waist and pulled me onto the big leather couch with him.
He set the lunchbox in front of me. “Eat.”
“Uh—no, Ethan, you don’t have to—”
I reached to push him away but he grabbed my wrist, pinning it behind me, and we both sank into the soft couch.
“Why are you being so naughty today? Didn’t I tell you to call me Mr. Sterling? You don’t like that?” He was right up in my face. I stammered, “No, no… it’s just that saying ‘Ethan Sterling’ sounds really nice.”
“Really? Is that so? Fine, whatever you say.” He stood and popped a rice ball toward my mouth. “Weren’t you always asking me to feed you? Open up. I’ll feed you.”
Thinking about that mustard, my mouth flooded and I instinctively shook my head.
“What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with this rice ball?” he asked.
“No, no!” I quickly opened my mouth, steeled myself, chewed, and swallowed the rice ball in a few frantic bites.
The mustard hit my sinuses in a wash.
“I—cough cough—I need the restroom!”
I bolted out, escaping Ethan’s office before tears could spill.
-7-
When I came out, Ethan was actually waiting just outside the bathroom.
“I’m fine, just a little stomachache,” I lied, smiling awkwardly. But Ethan’s look was different—more serious than before.
Had he tasted the breakfast? Had he discovered something?
My CEO Was a Beautiful Disaster
Before I could probe, Ethan yanked my wrist and dragged me back into the office.
“Why would you do that? Do I look easily fooled?” he demanded.
“What are you talking about? I don’t understand,” I feigned ignorance.
“You still won’t tell me the truth?” he said.
“Uh… so you already figured it out?”
“Figured it out? I want to know—if I hadn’t noticed today, how long would you have kept lying? Forever?”
My mind went blank, full of the shadow of fifty thousand dollars. It looked like that money was slipping away and I didn’t know how to explain myself.
“Ethan, can you please let me explain?” I asked meekly. Maybe if he heard what I’d been through, he’d take pity on me and lend the fifty thousand because I looked like the woman he cared about.
“No need,” he said, taking out his phone and texting his secretary. “I’m bringing you to the hospital tomorrow.”
“Huh? The hospital?” I was baffled.
“Are you still playing dumb?” Ethan’s brow furrowed. His hands grabbed my shoulders and pinned me to the wall. “Cassie Hart, you want me to spell it out? Fine. Are you pregnant with our child and hiding it from me?”
“A child? A child???” I choked on laughter and disbelief.
“You ran to the restroom and I heard you vomiting from outside,” he said.
I nearly burst—thankfully I hadn’t revealed my true identity. I had to work hard to explain that I wasn’t pregnant. He pressed his hand to my flat stomach and accepted it.
“Was I an idiot just now?” I asked.
He smirked. “No.”
He leaned in close with a mischievous look. “If you want a baby, it’s not too late…”
“I just remembered I have something to do! I have to go!” I blurted and fled.
Thus my first breakup plan failed spectacularly. I dashed out, leaving my “special” breakfast on his desk.
-8-
The next day at noon, Ethan messaged me to come to the office that afternoon.
I was scrolling through social media in bed and saw a post: “My girlfriend flirts with other guys—what should I do?” Inspiration struck. A brand-new breakup plan had just dropped into my lap.
At the company, I bypassed the receptionists and walked into Ethan’s office like I owned the place. But the familiar purple hair wasn’t there.
Instead, Ethan was lounging on a black sofa in a perfectly tailored suit that made his waist look narrow. He’d tied his hair back, leaving only a few strands at his temples, revealing a smooth forehead. Sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows painted a faint golden rim around his shoulders.
This wasn’t some flashy emo aristocrat anymore. Four words flashed in my head—dangerously handsome.
“You’re here,” he said, standing and pulling a bottle of cold-pressed orange juice from the fridge, handing it to me.
I took it automatically, my eyes stuck to his face. “What? Yesterday you said I should try a different hairstyle. Not good?”
“Ah… it’s good,” I admitted. It was really good—so good I nearly forgot I’d come to break up with him.
Just then there was a knock outside the office. “Come in,” Ethan said.
“Mr. Sterling, the documents you requested are ready,” a young man announced as he entered with a folder.
Perfect timing. My break-up plan sprang into action.
“Give them to me!” I leaned forward, flashed a saccharine smile, and used the most syrupy voice I could. “Thanks for your hard work, cutie.”
Ethan cleared his throat. The young man froze, nodded to Ethan, and quickly left.
“Why’d you leave so fast? I didn’t even—” I thought; poor guy, I must’ve been terrifying with that act. Even I couldn’t look at myself.
“Do you have anything else to say? Hm?” Ethan’s voice from behind sounded slightly annoyed. Perfect—keep it going.
I turned to deliver another zinger but he scooped me up and set me on his desk.
“Hey! Put me down!” I wiggled, my legs dangling.
“Don’t move.” He grabbed my hands and stood close in front of me. “Why do you seem shorter? Kissing you standing up is a bit tricky.”
“Huh?” I was surprised. That shouldn’t be possible—I remembered Claire was listed at 164 cm and I was only one centimeter shorter. He wouldn’t notice.
Before I could answer, Ethan frowned like he’d figured it out. “Why have you been wearing flats lately? No wonder.”
Ah—Claire must usually wear heels. I threw out a quick excuse and got away with it.
“Just put me down—” I tried to wriggle out, but he tightened his hold.
“You almost tricked me.” His sharp eyes fixed on me. “Tell me, who’s more handsome—me or that guy who just left?”
“Of course—” I didn’t finish before a large hand threaded through my hair and held my head steady.
“Cassie Hart, I won’t allow any other answer.” Warm lips pressed to mine.
He covered my eyes and, like a sulking little dog, nibbled my lips in a petulant, jealous way.
“Mmm—” I struggled but he held me tight.
God—I hadn’t expected Ethan to get jealous. It made breaking up feel impossibly hard for the first time.
-9-
I don’t remember exactly how I got home that night.
After that day I couldn’t come up with any new plans. Mrs. Sterling called, asking how things were going and urging me to do whatever it took to make Ethan break up with me. Desperate, I took more aggressive measures.
I asked Ethan out for a walk and he drove me to see the music fountain. Sitting by the lake, I slipped my arm through his and started a new performance.
“Sweetheart, can I see your phone?” I asked.
I started off with my ultimate move.
To my surprise, Ethan Sterling didn’t flinch. His voice was cool and flat. “Phone?”
“Here — take it.” He handed it over.
I took his phone and scrolled through his WeChat chat list, checked the albums, then the Recently Deleted. My eyes kept getting wider.
There wasn’t a single thing on Ethan’s phone I could use to start a fight.
But at this point I was scraping the bottom of the barrel for something — anything.
“Hmph. Then why isn’t my face your wallpaper?”
I pointed at his plain black phone background and launched into an attack.
“If you want, I can set it right now,” he said, still calm, and there was the faintest trace of fondness in his eyes.
“Too late! You don’t love me at all!” I put on an overly dramatic show, said a string of unreasonable things, then, with exaggerated force, flung his phone into the ornamental lake.
Splash — water leapt up in a bloom.
Instantly I realized I’d gone too far even to force him into breaking up with me. I turned, bracing for the furious blowback I’d earned.
But when I saw him, I froze.
Ethan looked crestfallen. His hands hung awkwardly in midair like he’d been about to pull me into a hug.
“Cassie,” he said, “there really isn’t a single girl around me worth you being jealous of. Not one. I have no secrets from you, and I wouldn’t fall for anyone else. Don’t you believe me?”
It was the first time I’d ever seen Ethan so small, so humbly pleading.
The imposing man I knew had become a little dog wagging its tail, begging. Anyone would feel their heart crack seeing him like that.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Ethan.” I went to him and wanted to hug him.
The lake lights flared on, painting his face, making his eyes shine. He pulled me into his arms and patted my back. A cool mint scent rose from his neck.
“Cassie.” He spoke softly, every word sincere. “I really… I like you. A lot.”
-10- More than half a month slid by. Ten days remained until the repayment deadline.
Mrs. Sterling called to ask how things were going. “Should be almost done…” I hesitated.
“Anna Walker, have you gotten some improper idea?” Mrs. Sterling’s tone was icy.
I snapped back into the thought that I was Anna Walker, not Cassie Hart.
“No, ma’am. Don’t worry.” I hurriedly denied it.
After a few curt instructions, she hung up. I looked in the mirror. The little dot of eyeliner I’d drawn like a mole was visible — something I’d gotten used to. I’d started slipping into being Claire Hart without even noticing.
I’d thought staging a series of break-up provocations would make Ethan hate me and force him to end it. But every plan failed. No matter what I did, he forgave and understood.
That warmth and security — I hadn’t felt it in so long.
I was starting to like Ethan for real.
My phone buzzed. It was Mrs. Sterling — a long message. She’d taken the initiative to lay out a new breakup scheme: I was to execute it at Ethan’s upcoming birthday party.
-11- The party arrived on schedule.
Many important faces filled the Sterling Estate that night. I sat in a corner, heavy with gloom. Tonight Ethan would finally break up with me — that was the plan.
“Isn’t that Claire Hart? Why’s she back?” Two middle-aged women nearby whispered about me loud enough to be heard.
From my earlier run-in with the receptionists I knew my Claire Hart persona wasn’t well received. Whatever — they were talking about Claire, not me.
I stood to leave when a delicate hand slipped onto my arm.
“Well, look who’s back.” The woman who’d touched me was young, features echoing Mrs. Sterling.
“Who are you?”
“Don’t play dumb, Miss Hart. Our cousin’s life has been ruined by you — how dare you show your face here?” She was Ethan’s cousin.
“I…” I didn’t know how to answer.
“You what? Get out!” she snapped, circling behind me and shoving me hard.
I stumbled and fell, caught mid-fall not by the ground but by a warm, solid embrace.
I looked up into Ethan’s eyes.
“You idiot. You’re just standing there letting people pick on you?” Before I could speak, he scolded his cousin, a public reprimand that shut everyone up.
“If that happens again, you deal with it yourself. I’m the one backing you — what are you afraid of?” His voice was cold, but I felt a warmth I’d never felt before.
Ethan. You’ve never truly been mine, and I was about to lose you.
-12- Dinner began. Mrs. Sterling pulled me to sit beside her, all smiles, but I knew this was the breakup plan kicking off.
At the table she presented a pair of flawless jade bracelets. “For my future daughter-in-law,” she announced, and gracefully took my hand, placing the gift box in my lap, waiting for my reaction.
According to the plan I was supposed to throw a tantrum, insult the bracelets as tacky, force Ethan to scold me and break up with me.
I hesitated, clutching the delicate box.
“Just accept them, dummy — what are you waiting for?” Ethan whispered, soft and gentle as down.
I couldn’t meet his eyes or Mrs. Sterling’s. I didn’t play the part Mrs. Sterling expected. I accepted the gift and thanked her.
Suddenly the room buzzed with congratulations and warmth. My heart pounded with anxiety until the very end of the event.
-13- The party wound down perfectly. Ethan had drunk quite a bit and slumped in his chair, leaning on what little sobriety he had left as he arranged for the driver to see me home.
I walked out of the Sterling Estate and into the car — only to find Mrs. Sterling waiting there, glaring.
“Anna Walker, you have quite the nerve,” she said, brow furrowing.
“Mrs. Sterling, I don’t know why I acted like that. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t know? You just wanted to be with my son, didn’t you?”
“I…” Panic rose in me. I handed her back the gift box with the bracelets. She snatched it and tucked it into her bag.
“Get out of our lives. And the remaining 450,000? I’m not paying you another cent.” She turned her head away.
“Mrs. Sterling, please give me another chance…” The thought of the money made me frantic.
“It’s too late. Disappear.” She waved, and the driver opened the door and dragged me out of the car.
“Mrs. Sterling…” I begged.
“You’d better never show up again, or face the consequences.” No pleading worked. I left the estate hollow and numb.
Three days until the deadline. I was cornered.
On the ride home I kept asking myself why I always froze at the crucial moment, why I couldn’t bear to leave him. There was only one answer: I wanted to be with Ethan for real.
But how could I face him now?
I pushed the thought away. A more immediate problem sat in front of me: pay the debt.
-14- The deadline came fast.
After hiding for three days I was found. A group of debt collectors blocked my way home.
I turned and ran.
“Don’t run! Stop!”
“Anna Walker! You can’t escape!”
Their shouts closed in; they were fast. Night had fallen and I could barely see the pavement. In a panic I turned two corners and ran right into them.
Even behind them stood two hulking men.
“We gave you a month, kid. Half a million isn’t much. Debts must be paid — where’s your integrity?” The man in charge stepped forward and I felt trapped.
“Come here.” In the dark a strong hand gripped my arm. There was a narrow alley next to us I hadn’t noticed.
The voice was familiar. “What are you waiting for? Follow me!”
It was Ethan. He dragged me, sprinting with me until we hit a well-lit street, then shoved me into his car.
-15- I sat in the passenger seat, panting, glancing in the rearview. Thankfully, they hadn’t followed us.
“What the hell is going on?” Ethan wiped sweat from his temple, full of questions.
I knew he had so many to ask. “Cassie, where were you these past few days? Who were those people? Why were they chasing you? What’s the half-million about?”
He fired off questions I couldn’t answer.
“I couldn’t reach you. I worried sick and tore the city apart looking for you for three days straight!” he said.
No wonder he showed up in that alley.
“Forget it. If you don’t want to tell me, there’ll be time,” he said, starting the car and flooring it.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked.
“My place. You’re filthy — go clean up.” He glanced at me.
“Is your mom home?” I asked tentatively.
“Hm? Yeah.”
Remembering Mrs. Sterling’s scolding, I grimaced. “Can we go somewhere else?”
He looked doubtful but didn’t argue. He turned the car around and drove me to his office.
-16- After changing into clean clothes, I stepped out of his lounge. On his desk lay a silver card.
“Take it.” He stood by the oversized window, looking out into the dark city.
“What is it?” I picked up the card. The words “XX Bank” were stamped on it.
“There’s 500,000 on it. Take it and pay them back.” He said it casually. “The PIN is your birthday.”
“You’re not going to ask why?” I asked.
Ethan Sterling came over and put his hands on my shoulders. "I asked you in the car. If you don't want to tell me, I won't push. I told you long ago I'd always believe you one hundred percent."
I held that thin bank card and stayed silent.
He'd said those words before — he'd said them to Claire, probably. But Claire had still let him down.
Seeing my eyes go dim, Ethan gently pulled me into his arms.
"Have you been through a lot these past few days? You're so thin."
His voice was soft. "It's my fault for not paying enough attention to you. From now on, if you need money, tell me. Don't borrow behind my back… and don't disappear from my life again."
His gentle words cut at my chest. Ethan's love was so warm, so steady.
But his love belonged to the real Cassie Hart, not me, Anna Walker.
—17—
The next morning I wired all the money to my mother.
I deleted her number and told her never to look me up again and never to gamble again.
Just after I put my phone down, a familiar number popped up — Mrs. Sterling.
She wanted to meet.
Nervous as hell, I went to the café.
From across the room Mrs. Sterling spotted me and waved me over with a smile.
"Anna, there's something I want to explain…"
She'd come to make peace.
She told me that last night Ethan came home and talked with her. He asked if there was some misunderstanding between him and me. He said he really liked me and hoped his mother would treat me well, truly accept me.
Sitting across from her, I felt a complicated knot in my gut.
What misunderstanding could there be between Mrs. Sterling and me? It was Ethan who'd been wrong — he trusted me too much.
"A mother only wants her son to be happy," Mrs. Sterling said, sipping her tea. "I think he really does like you."
"Anna, the reason I called you out today is because I want to entrust you with something again."
"What is it?"
"I want you to forever pretend to be Cassie Hart and live well with Ethan."
—18—
Walking back to my tiny apartment, my mind raced.
Mrs. Sterling's words tangled me up. Part of me wanted the same thing — to keep playing Cassie Hart forever and stay at Ethan's side. But having it said aloud by someone else made it feel different.
I thought back to high school — when I was supposed to be doing homework and my mom called to tell me to do it, I'd lose my will to study and lie on the bed, restless.
What was I agonizing over now?
A truth I wouldn't admit to myself surfaced — I didn't want to be with Ethan as Cassie Hart. I wanted him to fall for the real me, Anna Walker.
If I told him the truth outright, would he accept it? Had he ever liked me for who I was?
On impulse I went straight to find Ethan.
—19—
"You came."
Ethan sat behind his wide desk and waved me over. I stepped closer, opened my mouth, and he pulled me into his lap, making me sit on his knees.
"What's wrong, Cassie? Why so rushed?"
I tried to steady my voice. "Ethan, I have a question."
"Mm? Ask."
"If… if I disappeared and another girl who looked exactly like me — even sounded like me — appeared, would you fall in love with her?"
"Is this a new way to flirt?"
He pinched my chin and kissed me quickly. "I told you: no more disappearing."
"The point isn't disappearing. It's the second part… would you love her?"
"Of course not."
I shivered. I asked again and again. Ethan said with absolute certainty that even if there was another "Cassie" in the world, he would never fall for a substitute.
"I would never love a replacement."
He looked at me with earnest conviction — his loyalty was to Cassie Hart.
"Alright," I mouthed. That was his answer.
I slipped out of his arms and ran away.
—20—
I wandered the streets with no direction, replaying the scene in my head. Ethan's eyes had been so sincere, every word heavy and deliberate: "I would never love a replacement."
A light drizzle began. Without realizing it, I ended up at the lake — the place Ethan had taken me before.
I sat on a bench, staring blankly at the water. I remembered the last time we'd been there — I had thrown his phone into the lake. He hadn't been angry at all. He was always so forgiving and trusting of his Cassie.
The rain picked up and I shivered. A familiar scent of mint and then a warm embrace wrapped around me.
"Cassie, I've told you so many times — please don't disappear on me like that."
It was Ethan, breathless as if he'd been running.
I couldn't look him in the eyes. He came around and cupped my face.
"Was my answer not good enough? I'll say it again, okay?"
He apologized over and over. He held me tight like he had the first time we met.
"Why do you keep running away? I'm really scared of losing you."
"Sorry… Ethan. I won't anymore. I won't ever leave you again."
"Really?"
I looked up at him. Rain drenched him; he trembled like a wet, miserable little dog. The man who ruled everything now looked vulnerable in front of Cassie.
I couldn't resist.
"Really."
I nodded and hugged him again.
I truly couldn't leave him. Even if his devotion wasn't meant for me.
—21—
Three months later I officially moved in with Ethan. I lived at the Sterling Estate.
"Get up, Cassie."
He scooped me out of the soft bed. "Come with me tonight to a small cocktail party."
"Ugh… moving yesterday wiped me out. Let me sleep a little more."
I burrowed into the covers. He laughed softly. "If you don't get up, I'm coming in."
"Get up! Get up!"
I covered my flushed face and bolted for the bathroom. Half-awake I finished getting ready and shuffled back, still groggy.
"Wake up, baby."
He rubbed my head and then, with a mischievous look, his expression flickered to something else.
"Hmm? I feel like you're a little different today."
"Different how?"
He squinted. "That mole near your eye is gone."
I froze. That mole was the only difference between me and Cassie — something I used to draw on with eyeliner before meetings.
"Oh… I had it removed at the clinic a few days ago. Thought it looked ugly."
His puzzled look didn't change. I tried to change the subject. "By the way, you said there's a cocktail party tonight — what should I wear?"
"I already picked something out. Come see."
He led me to the walk-in closet. On the wall by the mirror hung a burgundy gown, and a pair of black heels sat on the floor.
"I chose it for you. Try it on; I want to see."
He helped me into the dress and stood me in front of the mirror, studying me.
"You're beautiful," he said.
I stared at my reflection, stunned. The gown flowed to the floor and it did look lovely.
"This dress looks too long," I said.
He ruffled my hair. "Silly, you haven't put on the shoes yet."
He picked up the heels and slipped them on my feet.
"I'll change now. Wait downstairs for me."
He turned to leave without noticing how stiff I stood. I had never worn high heels.
I shuffled to the stairs, clutching the railing, and made the first tentative step. My footing wobbled, and I fell. Fortunately I didn't tumble down the stairs.
"What happened?"
Ethan came running from the hallway and helped me up.
"It's fine, I just lost my balance," I said, trying to play it off. He wasn't fooled.
"Cassie?"
He called my name and a flash crossed his face. "I remember you loved high heels… Lately you've been wearing flats, haven't you?"
"Um, my feet hurt from wearing heels so much before."
I realized he'd asked me this once in the office before. How had I missed such an important detail?
"Carry me down, okay?" I smiled and reached out.
He didn't take my hand. He stood frozen, frowning. With every second his gaze grew colder. Then he said quietly, "You don't have to come with me tonight. Stay home and rest." He walked away.
—22—
Ethan was gone all night.
When I woke the next morning, I found he'd returned sometime in the night and was sleeping in the guest room next door, smelling of alcohol.
For the next few days we didn't speak. He kept going out to drink; sometimes he slept in the guest room, sometimes didn't come back at all. When he did come back he passed out and wouldn't move. Then he'd wake up and leave again without a word to me.
I knew he must be suspicious, that he'd seen through me. But I clung to a sliver of hope and couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth.
A whole week passed.
One morning I woke and found Ethan sleeping beside me.
"Eh?"
I couldn't help but say it.
"You're awake? Cassie."
He rubbed his eyes and pulled me into his arms. What was this? Had he never doubted me? Or had he convinced himself not to think about it?
"It's still early. Sleep a bit more, baby."
Ethan buried his face in my neck and exhaled. I leaned against his arm, confused and too afraid to ask the questions I needed answered.
After a while, Ethan woke up.
He pressed a light kiss to my lips, then took me to wash up and brush our teeth together.
I leaned against him and watched his gentle eyes in the mirror, as if none of it had ever happened.
Maybe he really had put his doubts to rest.
I told myself that.
-23- Evening, Ethan took me to an amusement park.
“What made you want to come here all of a sudden?” I asked as we walked hand in hand through the park.
“It’s been a long time since we went on a date,” he said, smiling at me. “I thought of this place.”
Night fell and the park started launching fireworks.
We sat in the Ferris wheel, looking down at the world below.
The whole scene flickered with light and dark, and every so often a purple firework bloomed in the sky—especially pretty.
“Pfft…” I pointed at the purple burst outside. “Ethan, not to embarrass you, but your old hairstyle used to look exactly like that.”
I expected him to scoff or snap back with something like, “Wasn’t it cool?” or mock me in return.
But he didn’t.
He gave an awkward little smile and told me not to bring up the purple “firework perm,” then glanced away, embarrassed.
Huh?
So Ethan himself thought that haircut was ridiculous?
“All right, all right, I won’t make fun of you anymore.” I leaned closer and, while he wasn’t looking, planted a soft peck on his cheek.
“Hmph.”
“By the way, I remember this legend,” I said. “They say if two people kiss when the Ferris wheel reaches the top, they’ll love each other forever and always be together. What do you think? Want to be with me forever?”
I rested my head on his shoulder and watched the scenery glide by.
He nodded. “Mm.”
“Almost—almost at the top!”
We were just reaching the peak. I closed my eyes and tipped my face up toward him, feeling his warm breath draw near. My lashes trembled in anticipation.
A firework suddenly exploded outside the window.
Bang.
Ethan jerked back a bit.
“I’m sorry…” His eyes went dark in an instant. “I still can’t lie to myself.”
Silence fell as we rose to the Ferris wheel’s highest point.
Then, following the wheel’s turn, we started to descend slowly.
“You already figured it out, didn’t you?” I asked straight out. “You know I’m not Claire, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“Was it because of the high heels that time?”
“It was…not entirely because of that.” He leaned away, sitting a little farther from me. “The first time I realized something was off was the night I found you in that alley. I think I heard those men calling you by another name.”
I remembered then—when Ethan found me, the debt collectors had been chasing and shouting my name.
“Then why didn’t you say anything? Why did you keep playing along with me?”
I forced myself to stay calm, but tears slipped down anyway.
“I don’t know. At first I wasn’t sure either. Later…maybe I couldn’t bear to lose you. Or maybe I didn’t want to accept breaking up with her. But lately, you’ve been less and less like her…you’re still different.”
“You broke up with her?” I looked at him—more put together now—and thought of his awkward reaction when we talked about his old style. A sudden realization hit me. “You’ve regained your memory, haven’t you?”
He didn’t deny it.
“Then…you said just now maybe you couldn’t bear to let me go. Was that true?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Do you like me?” I asked urgently. “Not Cassie Hart, but Anna Walker—do you like the real me?”
He glanced at me, then quickly looked away and fell silent.
The wheel eased downward, almost back to the ground.
“Say something.” I urged.
His head was bowed, his eyes clouded.
“I told you… I would never…fall in love with a substitute.” He said it quietly.
We arrived at the platform just as he finished speaking.
The door opened. He stepped out ahead of me and walked away without another word, disappearing into the night.
I don’t know when the fireworks had stopped—suddenly the park felt empty and cold.
-24- I didn’t look for him that day.
I went back alone to my rented room.
Two months passed in the blink of an eye.
My mom still seemed addicted to gambling, but I stopped answering her calls and texts entirely.
As the weather turned colder, I returned to the office and resumed my life as Margaret’s assistant—clocking in, clocking out, day after day, exhausted and busy.
Life didn’t seem to change, yet everything felt different.
One night after work, I came out of the familiar subway station; the sky was already black.
Suddenly a burst of fireworks bloomed overhead—large, sweeping displays, every one a captivating purple that lit up the whole night like something unreal.
A familiar face popped into my head. I missed him so much.
After regaining his memory, how was he doing? Still unable to forget Claire? Had he started a new life? Did he ever think of me?
I let out a soft sigh. After all, we were from two different worlds—maybe we never should have crossed paths.
At that moment, to the crowd’s surprise, every nearby LED screen switched to the same image as if a video was being played. The sound system picked up a voice, and a man in a black men’s wool coat appeared on screen.
For a second he was everywhere—on the mall’s big wall, on ad panels above the subway exits, on bus-stop billboards—only the editing had gone wrong, and the video frame cut off everything above his neck, making it look ridiculous.
People stopped and stared, and I did too.
The man on the screen began to speak.
“Once, by the little river in the forest, lived a small monkey. He loved a star in the sky. Every day he would sit by the river and gently touch the star’s reflection.” He continued, voice crackling through the cheap outdoor speakers. “One day the star vanished. The little monkey was so sad he sat by the river crying and could not laugh again.”
“Until, one day, the river shone again. The little monkey thought the star had come back and was happy.”
“But the light was not the star. It was a glowing pearl in the river. The little pearl couldn’t bear to see the monkey so sad, so it pretended to be the star’s reflection and stayed with him.”
“The little monkey was too foolish to know his own heart. Without thinking, he jumped into the river and kicked the little pearl away.”
The man on screen paused, hands clasped over his chest, nervous. I felt a strange daze. Who would have thought such a fairy tale would mirror my life so closely—even the ending felt similar.
Maybe the man in the video had gone through the same thing.
A ripple of laughter went through the crowd.
“What is this? A Children’s Day show?” “What lame copywriting—get to the point!” A kid huddled in his mother’s arms listened intently, though.
I kept watching the upper-body-only man on the screen. His voice, distorted by the cheap speakers, nevertheless carried sincerity.
He spoke again. “I am that stupid little monkey. I want to find my little pearl.”
“Anna Walker, since you left, I’ve been missing you. Please give me a chance to start over, to get to know you again, to fall in love with the real you.”
“Anna, come back to me. Don’t refuse.”
I clapped a hand to my mouth in disbelief, eyes wide, staring at the silhouette on the screen. The knuckles on those hands looked familiar.
At that moment, the sky exploded with more purple fireworks, even more dazzling.
People lifted their faces to watch. A couple walked into a wall because they were so distracted. The crowd shifted, and I was jostled—bumped against the wall.
Wait—
This wall felt oddly soft.
There was a faint scent of mint in the air. I looked up and met a pair of long-missed eyes.
“Ethan?” I whispered.
He looked thinner. His hair was black again.
“I missed you,” he said.
“I—” Before I could finish, Ethan shrugged off his black coat and threw it over our heads.
The din of the crowd faded instantly. The outside world felt cut off; even the fireworks sounded muffled.
In that dark little bubble, his warm breath surrounded me, pressing down like a tide. His warm lips were close, and I returned all that burning feeling to him without reservation.
“You really are a bit short, Anna Walker.” he murmured. “Kissing you standing up like this is a hassle.”
– THE END –
□ Planet Collision Theater
