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A Love Story a Day, Washington D.C., DC (2026)

07/12/2026

He blinked at me in confusion. "You lifted me again."
"Is there something wrong with that?" I asked, puzzled.
He looked down at his bowl of noodles, replying with utmost seriousness, "Daddy said boys have to be strong. We can't let people carry us all the time."
I set my own bowl down and sat opposite him. Hearing his words, I couldn't help but burst into a soft laugh. That was indeed exactly the kind of thing Ethan would say.
Ethan pulled out a chair and sat down as well, asking in a deep tone, "Is something funny?"
I quickly waved my hands. "Nothing at all."
Leo picked up his little fork and focused entirely on tackling the noodles in front of him. Before long, he had cleared the bowl completely, showing none of the picky eating habits Ethan had warned me about.
After finishing, he politely wiped his mouth, climbed down from the chair by himself, and went to wash his face. I was both surprised and delighted. My friend's child at this age threw a massive tantrum every single time he had to wash up, yet Lele was unbelievably obedient.
I took out the clothes Ethan had brought. Just touching the fabric told me they were incredibly expensive. After sorting through them, I chose a comfortable, relaxed-fit tracksuit and helped Leo put it on. The boy’s face was already remarkably handsome, and wearing this outfit made him look like a miniature, aloof young lord. I desperately wanted to pinch his soft cheeks, but I ultimately held myself back.
The Encounter at the School Gates
Today, Ethan drove a relatively low-profile car. Still, with my current salary, I probably wouldn't be able to afford it even if I worked an entire lifetime.
Since we were dropping our son off at school, I took a seat in the back with Leo.
As we neared the school, Ethan suddenly received an urgent phone call. It seemed like a pressing matter, so once the car pulled up to the curb, I led Leo out first, leaving Ethan inside the vehicle to finish his call.
Approaching the school gates, the area was crowded with parents dropping off their kids.
As a chubby little boy walked past us, Leo’s hand—which had been loosely holding mine—suddenly tightened its grip.
Then, I heard him actively call out, "Min An."
The chubby boy in front turned around. When his eyes fell upon me, a look of brief bewilderment crossed his face, which instantly shifted into a sneer of open disdain. "Is that your maid dropping you off at school? Where's your dad?"
Saying this, he proudly tugged at the hand of a middle-aged, slightly portly man standing right behind him.
The moment that man looked at me, his dull, greasy eyes instantly lit up with inappropriate interest.
Leo wouldn't back down. He stood straight, his little voice brimming with fierce determination as he said, "This is my mommy!"
Hearing this, Min An's father scoffed, a patronizing smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, really? I didn't know the Vance family finally found a woman willing to play house. Tell me, beautiful, how much is Ethan paying you to pretend to be this kid's mother? If the price is right, I can double it for you to take care of my son instead."
Leo's face flushed red with anger, his small fists clenching at his sides.
Before I could even open my mouth to lash out at the man, a heavy, freezing aura descended from behind us.
"Double it?"
Ethan's voice cut through the morning air like a block of ice shatteringly dropped onto concrete. He had finished his call and walked over, his tall frame instantly towering over the portly man. His dark eyes were devoid of any warmth, pinning the man in place.
"I pay her with my entire estate, Mr. La. Are you sure your company's current stock valuation can match that?"
The man's face instantly drained of color, his smug demeanor evaporating into sheer terror. He stumbled backward, stammering apologies as he grabbed his son and practically fled into the school courtyard.
Ethan didn't give them another glance. He turned his eyes down toward Leo, his expression softening by a fraction, though his voice remained firm. "Go inside. Don't let fools ruin your morning."
Leo looked up at Ethan, then at me. The anger on his little face faded, replaced by a tiny, rare nod of satisfaction. He squeezed my hand one last time before turning and walking through the school gates, his little backpack bouncing against his shoulders.
As we watched him walk away, the silence between Ethan and me returned, heavy and thick with a history we had yet to truly confront.

07/12/2026

I paused, completely blindsided. I hadn't expected that the cold, decisive CEO from this morning actually had to coax his son to sleep every night.
I let out a soft cough and asked a bit awkwardly, "I don't roll over very gracefully when I sleep. Will you be able to get used to it?"
The boy tilted his head, thinking it over for a long time before responding seriously, "I'll try to get used to it."
And just like that, two people who were both deeply bound yet essentially strangers—having reunited for less than five hours—lay down on the exact same bed.
The feeling was indescribably bizarre, but Leo fell asleep remarkably fast. Before long, the steady, rhythmic sound of his breathing echoed in my ears.
Under the gentle glow of the bedside lamp, I quietly studied the soft contours of his face and his long, thick eyelashes.
This is the child I brought into the world.
A Surprising Morning Routine
When I woke up the next morning, true to my restless sleeping habits, I discovered that I had Leo tightly wrapped in my arms.
Fortunately, he was still fast asleep. I gently released him and carefully slipped out of bed.
It was only then that I noticed Ethan had sent me a WeChat friend request late last night through the company group chat. I quickly accepted it. Since he was apparently already holding his phone, a message popped up instantly.
"Leo’s backpack and clothes are on the way."
I replied with a single word: "Okay."
Sure enough, just as I was preparing to step into the kitchen to cook, a knock sounded at the door. I assumed it was a courier sent by Ethan, but when I opened it, the man standing there was Ethan himself.
Then why did he even bother texting me beforehand?
I took the bags from him and was about to close the door when Ethan reached out a hand, blocking it. Seeing my bewildered expression, he lowered his eyes and said calmly, "We'll drop him off at school together."
I nodded. Perhaps he was afraid I would kidnap our son; thinking about it that way, his caution made sense.
Ethan followed me inside, and to my surprise, he had even brought a pair of guest slippers for himself.
My kitchen only held a few basic ingredients. No matter how picky this little young master was, he was going to have to eat whatever I cooked this morning.
While I was busy at the stove, Ethan leaned against the kitchen doorway, silently watching me work. After a while, his voice suddenly broke the silence: "I haven't eaten breakfast either."
I turned around, stunned. "Doesn't your nanny prepare it?"
His voice carried a slight huskiness. "She's on leave."
I looked awkwardly at the greens in my hand, speaking cautiously, "Breakfast is just plain noodles with a fried egg. I'm afraid it won't suit your taste."
Ethan’s brows knitted slightly. "Am I really that high-maintenance in your eyes?"
I forced a tight smile. "How could you be?"
Just as the noodles were finished, I spotted Leo standing at the kitchen door, rubbing one eye with his little fist. His hair was sticking up in places, and his face was still flushed with sleep. He sniffed the air and asked blankly, "Smells good. What is it?"
But the moment he caught sight of Ethan, he snapped fully awake. "Daddy? Why are you here?"
Ethan’s tone dropped into a low baritone. "Why can't I be here?"
For some reason, I felt Ethan was acting a little strange today.
I placed Leo’s small bowl of noodles on the dining table, speaking softly, "The noodles are ready. Come and eat, you have school after this."
Leo walked over to the table and awkwardly tried to climb up onto the chair. I reached out, supporting him by his tiny arms, and gently lifted him up.

07/12/2026

I looked up at Ethan, subtly trying to prompt him to leave. "Mr. Vance, as his biological mother, I’ll do my absolute best to take good care of him. You can head home and rest easy; you still have work tomorrow."
Ethan gave me a lazy sidelong glance before turning his eyes toward Leo, as if inadvertently.
Then, as if his throat felt a little scratchy, he let out a soft cough.
Given our current relationship, I felt it would be inappropriate to vocalize any concern, so I simply remained quiet.
Ethan stood there for a few more moments before finally turning around and heading toward the door. Perhaps because he had been in too much of a rush to get here, he hadn't brought any of Leo’s belongings with him.
Before leaving, he mentioned that he would have someone bring over the boy's clothes and backpack tomorrow morning. I nodded in agreement.
The moment the door clicked shut, leaving only Leo and me in the apartment, the boy instantly became wide awake. His ink-black eyes locked onto me, watching my every move.
Even though he was the child I had given birth to, the years of separation still left an unspoken awkwardness between us. I softened my voice, testing the waters. "Shall we take a bath and head to bed?"
The boy seemed a bit shy, murmuring softly, "I can bathe myself."
I nodded, searching through my closet for a long time before finally pulling out one of my own oversized summer T-shirts to serve as temporary pajamas for him.
I prepped the warm water in the bathtub. Leo gestured for me to step outside before he was willing to take off his clothes.
The guest bedroom hadn't been used in a long time, so I took the opportunity to change the sheets into a fresh, clean set.
By the time I walked back, Lele was already done with his bath. My T-shirt hung past his knees, making it look like a loose dress on his small frame. His dark hair was still dripping wet, and his eyes were bright and glistening from the steam, making him look exactly like a little puppy that had just been washed clean.
Holding the bundle of old sheets in my arms, I looked down at the tiny boy holding a towel, his face still maintaining its unusually solemn expression.
Only one thought echoed in my mind.
He is adorable in the coldest way possible.
Leo watched me silently for a while before speaking up. "At Daddy's house, I always sleep with Daddy."

07/12/2026

The boy's large, round eyes never drifted away from me.
Before I could even process what was happening, he let go of Ethan’s hand and took a slow, tentative step toward me. He raised his tiny hand, hesitating for a second before gently reaching out to touch my fingers hanging by my side.
In the next heartbeat, his soft, warm fingers wrapped around mine.
The child looked up at me with his ink-black eyes. His voice carried a slight touch of inherent coldness, yet it couldn't hide the desperate longing underneath: "Are you really my mommy?"
Instinctively, I wanted to squeeze his little hand back. But the moment the old agreement flashed through my mind, I forced myself to suppress the emotions swelling inside me.
I looked flusteredly at Ethan, who was standing a short distance away. "Mr. Vance, what is the meaning of this?"
Ethan remained perfectly still. His narrow, dark eyes swept over me impassively, his handsome face betraying no emotion whatsoever.
After a long pause, he leaned back lazily against the doorframe and said indifferently, "He's been throwing non-stop tantrums about it. Take care of him for a while. I'll pay you."
My heart shuddered.
So, he had recognized me all along.
Right from this morning at the office, while I was panicking and completely lost on how to face him, he already knew exactly who I was.
The child was still staring at me. Those big, round eyes melted my heart, but I tried my best to maintain my composure. "But Mr. Vance... what about Mrs. Vance?"
Ethan’s brows furrowed in dissatisfaction. "Don't worry about her. The child is mine."
I wanted to say more, but suddenly, my thigh was tightly hugged.
The little boy looked up at me, his voice trembling slightly. "Do you... not want me?"
My mouth opened, but no words came out. In an instant, the rims of his eyes turned red. He turned his head to glare at Ethan, his voice filled with absolute grievance. "Daddy lied to me. Daddy is a bad guy. A liar."
Ethan’s tightly knit brows tensed even further. He looked at me, pulled a black credit card from his pocket, and spoke in a deep tone, "There’s a million dollars in here. Stay with him for the next month."
The gaze of both father and son converged entirely on me.
I sighed helplessly, gently pushing his hand back. "Mr. Vance, I can take care of him. But regarding Mrs. Vance, I hope you settle things on your end first. As for the money, it's not necessary. I'm not strapped for cash right now."
The man’s hand holding the card froze. His gaze turned incredibly profound in an instant.
Ethan tilted his head slightly, gesturing toward the inside of the apartment. "Aren't you going to invite me in so I can brief you on his routine? It’ll be easier for you to care for him if you know the details."
Since things had already reached this point, I had no reason to refuse. I nodded.
Then, I naturally bent down and scooped the little boy up into my arms. The child seemed a bit surprised by the sudden lift, but his tiny arms reflexively wrapped tightly around my neck.
A hard-to-read emotion flashed through Ethan's eyes. He watched us silently for a moment before finally stepping into the apartment.

The place I was living in was a two-bedroom apartment bought on a mortgage. It wasn't large, but the location was highly convenient.
Ethan walked in, his indifferent gaze sweeping across the space. The apartment, which usually felt spacious for just me, suddenly felt incredibly cramped with the arrival of these two.
He took off his shoes. Noticing there were no guest slippers available, he walked right in anyway, naturally making himself at home on the small sofa in the living room.
The little boy sat next to me, his round eyes blinking as he stared at his surroundings without blinking, as if everything before him was entirely new and fascinating.
Through Ethan’s briefing, I finally learned my son’s name: Leo Vance. His nickname was Lele.
Leo didn't like to eat. Every time a meal was served, his expression became as grim as if he were being forced to swallow bitter medicine. Fortunately, his physical health was otherwise quite good.
He was also incredibly quiet, possessing a solemn, taciturn demeanor that made him far more reserved than other children his age. Ethan even suspected he had depressive tendencies.
Furthermore, lately, Leo had been frequently asking if he was actually a monkey.
When asked why, he reasoned that only monkeys who popped out of rock crevices didn't have a mother.
Hearing this, I looked up at the handsome face sitting directly across from me. Leo's features were practically a carbon copy of Ethan's, causing the corner of my lips to twitch slightly.
You are even more tight-lipped than your own son, yet you expect him to be a bubbly, cheerful kid?
Even after finishing his summary of Leo's habits, Ethan showed no intention of leaving.
I turned my head to look at the boy beside me. The little guy, who had been curiously observing me just moments ago, was now so exhausted that his eyelids were drooping heavily.

07/12/2026

If there hadn’t been any good news back then, I probably would have had to demand compensation for the toll it took on my health. I even suspected that Ethan Vance had channeled all his anger and resentment onto my body during those two months.
After that, Ethan was sent abroad for treatment. Meanwhile, under the care of Mrs. Vance, I successfully gave birth to a healthy baby.
Over the years, I often wondered if the child was a boy or a girl, and whether they looked anything like me.
Those scattered, overwhelming memories occupied my mind all morning, leaving me with absolutely no desire to stay late at work. Yet despite my best efforts to rush, it was already eight o’clock in the evening by the time I finally finished my tasks and left the office.
When the elevator doors slid open, I unexpectedly ran into two people standing inside.
Ethan had apparently just clocked out too. Standing right beside him was a little boy.
Except for his large, round eyes, almost every single feature on his face was identical to Ethan's—as if they had been carved from the exact same mold.
The boy was wearing an adorable pair of overalls. He had jet-black hair and fair skin. Yet, his tender little face was unusually solemn, making him look nothing like a typical, energetic child.
I froze at the elevator doors. Within a fraction of a second, I guessed his identity. I quickly stepped inside and pressed myself against the far corner, not daring to look at either of them again.

Even so, I could feel a pair of eyes resting heavily on me.
The moment the elevator reached the lobby, I practically bolted out of the building. Standing by the curb waiting for a cab, I saw a luxury car glide swiftly past me. The child’s profile appeared for just a split second behind the tinted window before vanishing into the night.
It was him.
So, my child was a boy.
An indescribable wave of emotion welled up in my chest—unfamiliar, bittersweet, and yet softening my heart in an instant.
When I got home, I carried my chaotic thoughts straight into the bathroom. I had just finished taking a shower when a sudden knock echoed from the front door.
Walking over to look through the peephole, I was greeted by Ethan’s cold, handsome face.
My heart skipped a beat.
What is he doing here? Is he here to warn me to stay away from the child, or is it something else?
I hesitated for a moment before finally opening the door. Only then did I notice the small figure standing right beside him. The child’s eyes widened, curiously observing me.
Ethan looked at me too, his deep, dark eyes narrowing slightly.
It was only then that I realized I was still wearing a thin, spaghetti-strap nightgown. I had been so focused on the child that I had completely forgotten about my attire.
I hastily grabbed a cardigan hanging nearby and threw it over my shoulders. Before I could even open my mouth, Ethan’s deep voice cut through the silence.
Looking somewhat impatient, he knit his brows slightly and addressed the child:

"This is your mother. You didn't just pop out of thin air."

I was completely dumbfounded.

07/12/2026

Memories of Five Years Ago
Throughout the rest of the morning, my mind kept drifting back to the events of five years ago.
During those two months, I had been by Ethan's side almost every single day. At the time, I desperately needed a massive sum of money for my mother’s life-saving surgery. For a college student who hadn't even graduated, that figure was an impossible mountain.
At my absolute lowest point, Ethan's mother had approached me.
She offered a sum that would fully cover all of my mother’s medical expenses. Hearing the terms, I hesitated for only three seconds before nodding in agreement.
But it wasn't until I saw Ethan in person that I realized those three seconds of hesitation were entirely unnecessary.
Back then, Ethan was gravely ill. His face was devoid of color, and his thin frame leaned heavily against the headboard of his bed. Despite his condition, he never allowed himself to rest, his intense gaze always fixed on the laptop screen in front of him.
Mrs. Vance’s motive was crystal clear.
She wanted an heir.
Ethan's prognosis at the time was bleak, and the chances of recovery seemed agonizingly slim. Mrs. Vance refused to let the vast Vance estate fall into the hands of greedy extended family members if the worst should happen.
On the first night I was brought to his room, Mrs. Vance had secretly slipped something into his food.
That night, Ethan’s consciousness was hazy. His burning hands traced over me, leaving me terrified and trembling. In my panic, I could only subconsciously cling to his neck for support. In the heavy shadows of the night, his breathing was ragged, and his strength was overwhelming—not at all like a man suffering from an illness.
The next morning, upon waking up and finding me beside him, Ethan was furious.
But Mrs. Vance remained terrifyingly calm. She looked at him, her voice unyielding:

"Ethan, even if you don't care about yourself, think of me and your grandmother. If something happens to you, we have no one left. Do you think those relatives will pay for your grandmother's medical care when you're gone?"

Hearing those words, Ethan's clenched fists trembled violently. After a long silence, he slowly let his hands drop.
He sat on the bed, his face like ice, saying nothing more.
That night, when I was brought into his room again, he tacitly accepted the arrangement.
During those nights, he did things that made my face burn just thinking about them, yet his expression remained entirely cold, almost detached. It was only at the final moments, when he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath heavy and hurried, that I felt the man was human—that he possessed real, raw emotion.
Two months later, I finally discovered I was pregnant.

07/12/2026

Ethan Vance.
The Gossip and the Encounter
Whispers from five years ago seemed to echo in my ears, dragging up memories I thought I had long buried.
Needing a moment to breathe, I headed straight to the restroom. Staring at my flushed cheeks in the mirror, I took a few deep breaths to regain my composure. Afterward, I decided to grab a glass of cold water from the breakroom, only to find a group of colleagues gathered there, gossiping.
"The new CEO is unbelievably hot. I wonder if he's married?"
"Right? The romance novel billionaire I’m reading finally has a face."
One of them spotted me and asked excitedly, "Chloe, you just came from his office, right? Is he as handsome in person?"
Every eye in the room instantly locked onto me.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, I could only force a polite smile. "He’s decent-looking."
The moment the words left my mouth, the expressions of the colleagues in front of me shifted dramatically. They instantly straightened their postures and scattered in seconds, pretending they had never been there.
From behind me, a soft cough sounded from the executive assistant.
I froze and turned around slowly, only to realize a large group was standing right there. The people accompanying him were the company’s board members, and leading them was Ethan Vance himself.
The hallway past the breakroom happened to be the only route to the main boardroom.
Marcus, a young shareholder standing next to Ethan, looked at me and chuckled teasingly. "You’ve certainly got charm, Ethan. Even the prettiest girl in the office thinks you're 'decent-looking.' I guess you really do get more attractive with age."
Ethan’s dark eyes lifted slightly, casting a cool, unreadable gaze over me.
He didn't say a word. He simply led the entourage past me, leaving me standing frozen in place, my mind in utter turmoil.

07/12/2026

Five years ago, driven by desperate need, I bore a child for a man I barely knew.
Five years later, we met again. He sat behind the massive mahogany desk in the Chief Executive’s office, looking at me with total indifference, as if there had never been anything between us. Yet that very evening, he showed up at my doorstep, holding a little boy by the hand.
The child opened his large, round eyes, looking up at me with pure curiosity. Standing beside him, Ethan Vance looked slightly impatient. His voice was cold and detached as he spoke:

"This is your mother. You didn't just pop out of thin air."

I stood there frozen, completely at a loss for how to react.
The New CEO
Earlier that day, I had followed my manager into the executive suite to report on our project's progress. It was the first official day of our unexpectedly appointed new CEO.
Before heading up, I had overheard the girls at the adjacent desks excitedly gossiping about how strikingly handsome the new boss was. I had only smiled it off. After all, I had already met the man I considered the most handsome in the world.
My manager knocked on the door. From within, a deep, baritone voice drifted out: "Come in."
Following my manager inside, I listened as he quickly initiated the briefing. The CEO’s voice was calm and measured, every word sharp and precise. Yet, for some reason, the cadence of his voice felt strangely familiar. I searched through my memory but couldn't quite place where I had heard it before.
When my manager finished, it was finally my turn.
Until that moment, I had been standing behind him with my head bowed. As I stepped forward and looked up to begin my presentation, my breath caught sharply in my throat.
I stared at the striking face before me, my mind instantly going blank.
This was the face I had been intimately familiar with, day and night, for two whole months.
The Ethan Vance sitting here today was entirely different from the man in my memories. The paleness and frailty of five years ago were completely gone. Now, he exuded an aura of cold authority and absolute composure. His deep, dark eyes swept over me without a single ripple of emotion, as if I were nothing more than a stranger—a low-level employee he had never laid eyes on.
Noticing my sudden daze, my manager cleared his throat softly to prompt me.
I snapped back to reality, desperately suppressing the chaos in my chest, and began my report. The man behind the desk watched me impassively, his long, elegant fingers rhythmically tapping against the surface of the desk.
When I finished, he didn't offer any critique. He simply gave a curt nod.
Even after leaving the office, my heart was hammering against my ribs, refusing to settle down. I had never imagined I would see him again in this lifetime. And it was only because of the silver nameplate on his desk that I finally learned his name.

07/12/2026

Chapter 1: The Ghost of a Scandal
When I had first drifted back into consciousness that morning, a heavy, muscular arm was still slung possessively over my waist. The grip was so firm it made my lower back ache.
Last night, Benedict Sterling had been delayed late at the High Court, returning to the estate long after midnight. I hadn’t even realized at what hour he had slipped into the bed.
As I attempted to shift my weight and turn around, a sharp, deep ache flared through my lower body. It made me wince. This was entirely different from our usual, familiar routine.
Benedict was no longer the clumsy, eager youth of years past. After several years of marriage, he had grown into a calm, measured, and deeply attentive husband. But this raw discomfort… this felt like something else entirely. It felt like the very first time.
Startled, I forced my eyes open.
There, sleeping soundly beside me, was Benedict’s strikingly handsome, aristocratic face. Except, he looked remarkably younger. The subtle lines of stress around his eyes were entirely gone.
Panicking, I cast my eyes around the room. The decor was all wrong. The heavy velvet drapes, the specific pattern of the wallpaper—this wasn’t our marital home.
My gaze locked onto my pink silk corset, torn and discarded carelessly beneath his torso.
The truth struck me like a physical blow: I had traveled back in time. I had relived the worst, most pivotal day of my youth.
Chapter 2: The Original Sin
In my previous life, my stepmother had brought my elegant stepsisters and me to the Grand Spring Gala hosted by the Dowager Duchess. Halfway through the evening, I had naively accepted a glass of spiced w**e, entirely unaware that it had been laced with something potent.
In a drug-induced, feverish haze, I had stumbled into a private bedchamber and ended up in Benedict’s arms.
We were caught in the worst possible way.
The Dowager Duchess's face had turned a furious, mottled ash. Her pride and joy—her eldest son and heir—had been compromised under her own roof, put on display for the entire high-society gossip mill to see. Enraged, she openly declared before the whispering crowd that a nameless, penniless girl like me would never cross the threshold of Sterling Manor as a legitimate bride.
My stepmother and stepsisters immediately wept, lamenting that I had dragged our family name through the mud and ruined the marriage prospects of everyone else. Yet, in the same breath, my stepmother dropped to her knees, swallowing her pride to beg the Duchess to enforce a marriage to save whatever dignity we had left.
The rising crescendo of arguments had finally roused Benedict.
He slowly pressed a hand to his forehead, propping himself up against the headboard. Looking past the privacy screen at the shouting match, and then down at me—shivering, weeping, and clutching the bedsheets to my chest—his voice cut through the noise like ice:
"Get out."
I flinched at the cold authority in his voice. Outside the screen, the bickering crowd instantly fell silent.
The Duchess’s voice trembled from the other side. "Benedict, darling?"
"Yes, Mother," Benedict replied, his tone chillingly calm. "Clear the room. Now."
Chapter 3: An Elegant Practicality
Once the room emptied, Benedict stepped out of bed, completely unbothered by his bare chest, and picked up my ruined pink corset from the floor.
He extended it toward me, his eyes averted politely. "Put this on first."
Too embarrassed to look at his broad, athletic frame, I buried myself under the duvet and fumbled to dress myself. By the time I stepped out into the drawing-room, Benedict was already perfectly attired, standing by the fireplace and waiting for me.
The silence between us was suffocating.
After what felt like an eternity, he studied my face intently and asked a completely unexpected question: "Is your heart given to another gentleman?"
I blinked, stunned, and shook my head.
"Are you betrothed? Do you have an arrangement from your youth?"
Again, I shook my head.
Benedict looked down, contemplating for a brief moment before speaking softly. "Then I shall ask for your hand. Will you have me?"
I was speechless.
Benedict was a man of immense wealth and high status; his mother was a Duchess, and his uncle sat in the House of Lords. Half the eligible ladies in London would have given anything to secure his attention.
Meanwhile, I was merely the neglected daughter of a minor country gentleman, born to a late, un-titled mother. Even without this scandal, marrying him would have been an impossible dream. Furthermore, if I refused him and went home, my stepmother would likely lock me away in a countryside cottage or marry me off to the first old, desperate widower who would take me.
I weighed my options, swallowed my pride, and nodded.
"I will."
Chapter 4: The Hollow Marriage
Looking back, it had all been so rushed, so clinical.
That very afternoon, Benedict sent his solicitors to my father’s estate to formally request my hand, ensuring every legal formality and dowry arrangement was flawlessly executed.
Simultaneously, his family’s investigators discovered the truth: the w**e had been poisoned by the Earl’s ambitious mistress, who hoped to ruin Benedict’s reputation to clear a path for her own son. But she had underestimated the Duchess's political power. The Duchess promptly banished the mistress and her son to a remote estate in the Scottish Highlands, never to return.
The truth was uncovered, but the damage was done. My reputation in London was permanently tarnished. To the ton, I would always be the girl who trapped an Earl.
After our wedding, Benedict was the perfect gentleman.
He treated me with utmost courtesy. My clothes, my carriage, my allowances—everything was vastly superior to the meager life I had known.
But he did not love me.
We lived as polite strangers under the same roof. When we were alone in a room, the silence was heavy and vast. We were separated by a chasm of obligation. I knew he felt trapped by the marriage, so as the years progressed, I stopped seeking him out.
The Dowager Duchess, though aware of the setup, could never truly forgive the stain on her family's honor. She never mistreated me, but she looked through me as if I were a ghost.
In that grand, echoing manor, I spent my days staring out at the manicured gardens, entirely alone. It was a dull, hollow existence.
And now, waking up in this young body with a second chance, I realized I had a choice. I didn't have to wait for the lawyers, the screaming, or the cold proposal.
So, I ran.

A Love Story a Day

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