He Made Me Wear Her Face. Now He Bleeds for Me

After I lost my memory, Jake showed me a photo of his deceased first love and lied to me, claiming that it was a picture of me. He then coaxed me into undergoing nearly a hundred cosmetic surgeries to transform me into a version of myself I couldn't remember.

But fate had other plans. His first love, the woman in the photo, reappeared. It was as if nothing had changed between them. I watched helplessly as they rekindled their past romance. That was until our son, Nathan, caught them together.

Nathan immediately recognized that the woman wasn't me. His face twisted in confusion and before anyone could react, she panicked and fell into the swimming pool. She choked on the water, thrashing in a desperate attempt to stay afloat.

Blaming Nathan for causing his first love such distress, Jake immediately punished him. Ignoring the fact that our son had feared water since he was little, he insisted on throwing him into the deep end of the pool. It was as if he had forgotten the trauma Nathan had suffered from being submerged in water as a child. But Jake's anger clouded everything.

I received a distress signal from Nathan's watch and my heart stopped. Without a second thought, I rushed to the poolside, dropping to my knees. I could barely breathe as I begged him, my voice trembling with desperation, "Nathan can't swim. He'll die! If you want to punish someone, punish me..."

Jake interrupted me with a cold laugh, "Kids aren't that fragile. He's just staying in the water for a bit—he won't die."

In the end, I lost Nathan.

I was drowning in grief as I held him in my arms, trying desperately to bring him back. But at that moment, Jake was lighting sky lanterns at an auction, the bright lights marking his celebration of his seventh wedding anniversary with Claudia.

I couldn't help but wonder—what was I to him? A ghost in his life? Or something worse?

It was in that agonizing moment, as I held Nathan's body in my arms, that all the memories I'd lost suddenly came rushing back. The fog lifted and I remembered everything. I wasn't Claudia Palmer. The name on the marriage certificate was never mine. I was just Wendy Johnson.

The searing pain of loss tore through me and I dialed my motherinlaw's number. "Emily, I remember everything now. It's time for me to leave."

——

When she arrived at the hospital, she was unprepared for the sight that awaited her. As she touched Nathan's cold body, her face twisted in shock and she collapsed to the floor.

"Claudia, how could this happen?" she asked, her voice trembling.

I numbly corrected her, "Emily, I'm Wendy, not Claudia."

She looked into my sorrowful, empty eyes and it was as if the world had shifted. The realization finally sank in for her.

"Wendy, you... really remember? All of it?"

Before I could respond, a bystander nearby, holding up their phone, exclaimed, "Oh my god! Seven years and the Lawrence Group heir still loves his wife this much? Lighting sky lanterns and buying out an entire auction of jewelry to celebrate their anniversary... He really loves her! Makes you want to get married, doesn't it?"

"A husband like that? I'd marry him in a heartbeat, no matter what! Can you imagine how happy his wife and kid must be?"

Happy? The word felt like a knife to my chest. What kind of happiness was this? What kind of love must be paid with the life of a child?

Seven years ago, Emily had orchestrated the end of Jake's true love, forcing him to marry me. She had bribed Claudia with money, pressured Jake and broken their bond. No one expected Claudia to die so tragically, drowning in the sea as she was being shipped overseas after taking the bribe.

Jake, wracked with guilt, blamed me for her death. His grief turned to rage and he vowed to die with me. But what he didn't know was that his own mother had drugged him. In his frenzy, he lost control and slept with me that night.

The next morning, his hatred for me intensified. He brought over a dozen men, forcing me into that room with them and told me that as long as the child I carried was his, he would marry me.

But fate, cruel and unyielding, played its hand. The child I carried was his. Emily, eager to secure control over Lawrence Group for her son and his illegitimate halfbrother, pressured me to keep the child.

Jake knelt before me, admitting his mistake. But instead of seeking forgiveness, he took advantage of the situation and had doctors remove my temporal lobe, implanting fake memories of a sweet, loving marriage between us.

From that moment on, I became Claudia Palmer. I wore her name, her face and spent seven years living a life that wasn't mine.

In those seven years, it wasn't that I hadn't noticed Jake's odd behavior toward me. If he loved me, why had he never once held Nathan? Why had he never once looked at him with the same warmth he gave to Claudia's memory?

When Nathan took his first steps and fell, crying out for Jake, Jake just walked past him without sparing a single glance. When Nathan struggled in the water, I heard him ask me for the umpteenth time, "Mommy, does Daddy hate me?"

The question echoed in my mind. Could I even answer him?

On that fateful day, by the time I pulled Nathan out of the water, his eyes were already shut tight. I held him in my arms, his soaked body limp, his skin cold and pale. My tears fell in silence, mingling with the water clinging to his lashes.

I remembered his question from before, I leaned closer, pressing my lips to his ear, trying to soothe him with the lie I'd always told.

"Daddy doesn't hate you," I whispered. "He's just..."

But the memories that surged back made it impossible to finish that sentence. Because the truth was too cruel.

Back then, Jake hated me so much that he kept me under lock and key, just waiting for Nathan to be born so he could run a DNA test. He never believed Nathan could be his—not after what he did. He even thought of using Nathan to humiliate me, to satisfy his thirst for revenge.

But fate had other plans—Nathan was his.

Ashamed of what my body had endured, I once stood at the edge of a bridge with Nathan in my arms, ready to end it all. But Emily stopped me just in time. She slapped me, dragged me back and stormed into the Lawrence mansion to confront Jake.

Later, on the operating table, just as the anesthesia blurred my senses, she leaned down and whispered, "Wendy, it was Jake who wronged you. I'll make sure he spends the rest of his life making it up to you. And if one day you remember everything and still choose to leave, I'll let you go."

Maybe that memory had buried itself too deep, because for seven years, I truly believed I was Claudia. Emily went from hesitating over the name at first to calling me "Claudia" with maternal warmth, as if the lie had become truth.

But now—with Nathan gone—everything has returned. The pain swells like a tsunami, dragging me under, threatening to drown me.

In the hospital, Emily watched me silently. She understood, without me saying a word, that the façade could no longer hold. She clutched Nathan's tiny body to her chest, her lips trembling.

"Wendy... it was my fault," she said, her voice raw. "I thought Claudia would never come back after we faked her death..."

My heart, already numb, twisted again.

Before I could ask her anything, she grabbed her phone with shaking hands and dialed Jake.

The phone rang for what felt like forever before someone finally picked up. But it wasn't Jake's voice—it was Claudia's sugary, sweet tone.

"Emily? Jake's in the shower," she said with a soft giggle. "Is something urgent? I can pass along a message."

Emily's hands trembled with fury. "Put Jake on the phone. Tell him to get to the hospital now."

A pause. Then Jake answered, clearly annoyed. "Mom, seriously? Claudia and I are celebrating. Can you not ruin the mood? Unless you want another grandkid, maybe don't call right now."

Emily's voice broke. "Nathan is dead! You heartless bastard, get your ass to the hospital!"

Jake scoffed, laughing bitterly. "You're unbelievable. Making up something like that just to guilttrip me? Nathan isn't a great swimmer, sure, but he wouldn't just die. And now that Claudia's back, I'm done pretending. I'm sick of playing the loving husband to that fake bitch. And you? You can stop trying to control my life."

The line cut off.

Emily stared at her phone in disbelief before throwing it to the floor. It shattered against the tiles.

Covering her face, she sobbed uncontrollably. "Wendy... I'm so sorry... This is all my fault...

"I shouldn't have let him change your face... I shouldn't have allowed him to erase you... and I never should have given you Claudia's name."

She gripped my hand tightly, as if holding on could somehow lessen the damage. Her voice shook as she began to confess everything.

It turned out Claudia never died.

Seven years ago, after accepting the money, Claudia proposed faking her death to disappear overseas. She promised she'd never return. Emily agreed, thinking it was over. But Claudia had been lying in wait all along, biding her time for Jake to seize control of the Lawrence Group before crawling back into his life.

"I didn't know she'd come back," Emily whispered. "I thought... if you loved Jake enough, he'd let go of the past. I really thought..."

I stared at her, my eyes hollow, the edges of my vision blurring. Even though she'd treated me like a daughter for seven years, every word she spoke now felt like another knife carving through my alreadybroken heart.

With trembling fingers, Emily reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek, black card. Without hesitation, she forced it into my hand.

"Wendy, I know I can't make you stay anymore. Take this card—as a way to make up for everything."

I looked down at the black card in her trembling hands and suddenly let out a low laugh.

How ironic.

Seven years ago, she used money to make Claudia disappear. And now, seven years later, she wanted to use money again—this time to send me away. To keep me quiet. To make sure I didn't cause trouble.

Still laughing, I took the card. Then I turned and walked toward the funeral van, clutching Nathan's cold, fragile body tightly in my arms.

Emily ran after me, sobbing, her voice hoarse. "Wendy, at least let Nathan be buried in the Lawrence family cemetery. Please..."

I shook my head. My voice came out weightless, carried away by the breeze. "He doesn't deserve it."

No. It wasn't Nathan who was undeserving. It was the Lawrence family. That cursed patch of earth didn't deserve to be his final resting place.

Emily stopped in her tracks, stunned into silence. After a long pause, she took a breath and tried again, softer this time. "Then... at least let me hold a funeral. Even if it's just a memorial tomb. He deserves that much, doesn't he?"

I didn't answer. But I didn't stop her either. I let her make the arrangements.

By the time I got home, night had already fallen. I stepped through the door with Nathan's urn pressed against my chest—only to hear the sound of Jake's low, satisfied laughter coming from the living room.

I stood in the entrance, the dim hallway light casting a long shadow. There they were, tangled on the sofa—Jake and Claudia. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her smile smug and content.

My gaze was hollow. Empty.

Jake looked up, his eyes meeting mine. His smile vanished. He pulled away from Claudia and stood, towering over me with his usual arrogance.

"You still know your way home?"

I said nothing. My fingers lightly stroked the urn, my movements tender—like I was lulling Nathan to sleep.

Jake's brows furrowed. His gaze swept past me toward the hallway. "Where's Nathan? Get him out here. He needs to apologize to Claudia and I might just forget the whole matter."

He said it like he was doing me a favor. As if all this was some minor inconvenience to him.

Nathan's only "crime" was recognizing that Claudia wasn't his mother. And for that, he had to pay with his life?

I looked up slowly, the corners of my lips curling into a bitter smile.

"Nathan is dead."

Jake blinked. For a second, he seemed genuinely caught off guard. Then his expression twisted into fury.

"What kind of joke is that?" he barked. "You think that's funny?"

He laughed—a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the living room.

"You think you can threaten me by hiding the kid? Is that it?"

His voice grew sharper. "Overindulgent mothers raise useless sons. Hide him all you want. Let him rot in the dark like a rat—just like you."

I stared at him, blank and unmoving, as if watching a stranger rant about someone I didn't know.

Jake sneered. "What, cat got your tongue now?"

He yanked his phone from his pocket, pulled up a video and shoved the screen in front of my face.

"Let me remind you who you really are now that Claudia's back where she belongs."

The screen lit up with a grainy video—that nightmare from seven years ago. A circle of unfamiliar men surrounding me. My body trembling. Jake, just outside the frame, his smirk cold as ice.

I froze. The room tilted. My stomach churned with nausea, but no tears came. Not anymore.

"You see that?" Jake hissed, his voice full of venom. "You were never Claudia. You're just a filthy whore I dressed up and played house with."

"For seven years, I had to watch this video every damn day just to stomach being near you."

He pulled a card from his wallet and flung it at my face, followed by a photo—one from seven years ago, before the surgery.

"Here. Take the money and fix that face. I can't stand looking at you anymore."

The photo fluttered to the floor. I looked down at it—the woman staring back at me barely resembled the person I was now. And yet, she was me. The real me.

Yet I couldn't recognize her at all.

I didn't cry. Didn't scream. I didn't even flinch.

Jake studied me, waiting for a reaction. Any reaction. His expression twisted with irritation when I gave him none.

"What's wrong? Nothing to say now?"

Still no response.

His rage snapped. He turned, yanked something from beneath the coffee table and slammed it onto the glass.

It was a LEGO box—still unopened.

"Today is Nathan's birthday. You'd better be smart and bring him out to apologize. Otherwise, he can forget about ever celebrating his birthday again!"

Jake stood in the living room doorway with a mocking tilt to his mouth. The crystal lamp above cast patches of light and shadow across his smug face.

I stood still, arms wrapped around Nathan's urn. My fingers traced its smooth, cold surface as I looked up at him and gave a faint, hollow smile.

"As you wish," I said quietly. "Nathan is dead. He'll never celebrate another birthday again."

The color drained from Jake's face. Claudia, standing beside him in skyhigh heels and a tight white blouse, gave a dramatic gasp and clutched at her chest like she was onstage.

"Oh my God, how could you be so cruel?" she shrieked. "You're even cursing your own son!"

Jake's patience snapped. In two strides, he reached me and snatched the urn from my hands like it was trash. He didn't even look at it before hurling it into the nearby bin.

"Wendy, can you just get it through your thick skull? Just because you gave birth to a son doesn't mean you can tie me down for life!"

The clang of wood hitting metal rang out. Something cracked inside me.

I rushed forward, nearly tripping and dug through the bin with trembling hands until I found the urn again. Cradling it to my chest, I backed away, breathing hard.

"Jake!" I choked. "If you hate me, then hate me! Why did you have to kill Nathan?"

His face darkened, eyes flashing. He stepped forward and slapped the urn from my arms with a brutal sweep.

"Enough of this crap!"

The urn hit the floor with a dull thud. The lid rolled away and pale gray ashes spilled out across the floor like a scattering of dust.

I dropped to my knees. My hands shook as I tried to gather the ashes, scooping them back into the broken vessel while tears blurred my vision.

"Nathan... Nathan..." I whimpered.

Jake stood over me, face like carved stone. His voice dropped to a frigid murmur.

"I'm giving you a month. Get your face fixed. I don't want to see Claudia in you—or the pathetic you from before. Looking at you makes me sick.

"From now on, stay quietly at the Lawrences' manor with your son. I'll show up once a month. That's more than someone like you deserves."

He turned away, the echo of his footsteps trailing toward the bathroom. I heard water running a moment later—he was washing his hands. Of Nathan's ashes.

Claudia hadn't moved. Her heels clicked lightly on the floor as she approached the spill, grinding ash underfoot. She leaned close, her voice low and poisonous.

"Trying to steal my man, aren't you? You deserved to lose your son.

"You think just because you wore my face, you could become me? Keep dreaming."

I looked up at her—at the face that mirrored mine. My body moved on instinct.

I stood and slapped her across the face, the sound loud and sharp in the still room.

Jake charged out of the bathroom. His hand clamped around my wrist like a vice.

He didn't hesitate. His palm struck my cheek with brutal force.

"Wendy! Apologize to Claudia!"

My head snapped sideways. Warm blood gushed from my nose and slid down to the corner of my lips. I wiped it away slowly, then turned back to Claudia and stared at her.

"Keep dreaming," I said coldly.

Then I dropped back to my knees. My fingers reached for Nathan's ashes, trying to keep the blood from dripping onto them—but it was too late. Red drops landed on the gray powder, blooming like wounds in snow.

I scrubbed at my nose, desperate. Nathan had always been scared of blood. I couldn't let him see it now. Not even like this.

Behind me, Jake's foot shifted. I looked up in time to see him raise it to kick me again—but a sudden buzz interrupted him.

He froze, pulling his phone from his pocket. His brows furrowed.

A message lit up the screen.

[Mr. Lawrence, the DNA comparison results are in. This time we used a different hospital. The samples from Nathan are a complete mismatch with yours.]

He turned the screen toward me slowly, like he couldn't believe it himself.

Then his foot came crashing down on my abdomen.

"Wendy, you dared lie to me for seven years?!

"Bitch! You made me raise another man's bastard?!"

The pain stole the air from my lungs. I slammed against the wall, my back hitting the hard surface with a crack. My nose, just beginning to clot, burst open again in a fresh wave of blood.

Feigning concern, Claudia rushed over, wrapping her arms around Jake, pulling him back with trembling hands.

"Jake, don't! You'll kill her! She's still the mother of your child..." Claudia cried, though her eyes gleamed with something far from concern.

"A bitch who tricked me into marriage with a bastard—does she deserve to be called a mother?"

Jake's voice dripped with venom. He shoved Claudia's hand off his arm and stormed forward.

I barely had time to flinch before his fist slammed into my side. The impact sent me stumbling backward, my knees buckling as I crumpled to the floor. Pain shot through me, sharp and searing, but I curled around the urn in my arms, shielding it with my body like a lifeline.

Blood oozed from the corner of my mouth. I coughed, the metallic taste filling my throat, but I refused to let go. Tears blurred my vision, yet I gritted my teeth and choked out the truth. "Nathan really is your son..."

"Bullshit!"

Jake's roar was feral. He snatched a vase from the coffee table and hurled it at me with blind rage. The vase shattered against the wall beside my head, fragments slicing across my cheek. A hot line of pain bloomed there and I gasped, clutching my face with one hand while still protecting the urn with the other.

Claudia, ever the actress, cried out and rushed between us as if trying to shield me. But as she leaned in close, her lips brushed my ear and her whisper chilled me.

"Wendy, so what if you made yourself look like me? A fake will always be a fake."

I stared at her, my vision spinning, my heart cold.

Jake wiped the blood from his knuckles on a silk napkin with visible disgust. His lip curled. "Get that face of yours completely redone within a month, or don't blame me for what happens next."

Then he turned on his heel, wrapping his arm possessively around Claudia. Together, they walked out without a glance back. The door slammed behind them.

I sank fully to the floor, shaking. My hands, smeared with blood, trembled as I wiped my face. I forced myself upright, then carefully began to gather Nathan's ashes from the floor, whispering softly through a tight throat.

"Nathan, don't be scared. Mommy's here..."

I moved slowly through the house, packing what little I had left. His tiny clothes, his drawings, our photos—anything that bore even a hint of warmth—I folded them gently. Everything else, I threw into a bin. Some I burned, watching the flames consume the memories.

As I stood by the fire, watching it crackle and flare, I realized—strangely—I was grateful Jake had erased my legal identity. Without a marriage certificate, I could disappear without a trace. There would be no court battles. No farewells. No more lies.

When I finally stepped out the door, Emily was waiting.

Her eyes widened at the sight of my battered face. She reached out with shaking hands and gripped mine tightly, her tears falling fast and silent.

"Even if you and Jake can't be husband and wife... can't you be my goddaughter?" she asked through sobs. "Let me make it up to you..."

Her voice wavered with guilt and desperation, but I gently pulled my hand free.

"If I stay," I said quietly, "I'm afraid I won't be able to stop myself from killing Jake."

I turned away before I could see her expression. Behind me, I heard her sobbing—loud and unrestrained—but my heart remained still. Cold.

She had one son. For him, she was willing to sacrifice me.

And I had one son too. If Nathan were still alive, I would've given everything—my pride, my life—for him. But now that he was gone, I no longer needed to lie to myself.

I left the city behind.

In a quiet, misty town nestled between green mountains and glistening rivers, I found a small burial plot overlooking the water. Peaceful. Unassuming. It felt like the only kindness I could give him now.

On the day of the burial, soft rain drizzled from gray skies. I knelt before Nathan's grave, my hands resting on the smooth, polished headstone. My fingertips traced the photo etched into the marble, his smile frozen in time.

"Sweetheart..." My voice trembled. "Next time you're born again, make sure to choose parents who will truly love you..."

Far away, at the Lawrences' grand manor, Emily—pale and weak—had arranged a lavish funeral for Nathan. Guests gathered in solemn clusters, whispering and exchanging looks. But Jake never showed.

Her hands trembling, Emily dialed his number. "Jake... today is Nathan's funeral. You must come and see him off one last time..."

Jake scoffed on the other end. "Mom, can you stop playing along with that bitch's nonsense? I told you, I'm with Claudia now. Only death will separate us."

Emily gasped, her breath catching, but Jake didn't notice. His tone remained cold, dismissive.

"No one even noticed I swapped wives anyway. Why bother making a fuss?"

Her voice cracked. "You—you bastard! That was your biological son!"

Jake's fury exploded. "Biological my ass! You and that bitch fooled me for seven years! The DNA report's right there—he's a bastard! Even if he's dead, he's got nothing to do with me!"

Emily suddenly clutched her chest, her expression contorting in pain. The color drained from her face until it was almost ghostly white. Her breathing grew shallow, rapid.

On the other end of the line, Claudia's honeyed voice rang out with deliberate sweetness. "Jake, who is it?"

Jake didn't hesitate. "It's nothing. My mom's just being senile," he muttered coldly, then snapped into the phone, "Mom, if you keep this up, I won't mind cutting ties with you for good!"

The phone slipped from Emily's trembling fingers and clattered onto the floor. Her frail frame staggered backward a few steps. One hand gripped the edge of the console table; the other clutched at her chest. She gasped—once, sharply—then collapsed onto the carpet with a dull thud.

"Madam!" the butler's panicked voice echoed through the hall.

But that collapse was her last. Emily never opened her eyes again.

The Lawrence household was thrown into chaos.

Across the city, under the golden haze of a beachside sunset, Jake lay entangled with Claudia in the plush sheets of a private villa. The sound of waves crashing outside the open balcony doors masked the sound of a sharp intrusion—until the door burst open with a deafening bang.

"You bastard!"

A handbag struck Jake hard across the back.

He yelped, twisting away and scrambled to cover himself with a sheet. "Catherine?! Are you insane?" His face flushed with fury and disbelief. "First Mom and now you?! What is wrong with all of you?"

"I am insane!" Catherine's eyes were bloodshot, her usually elegant demeanor gone. Her voice shook with fury. "You killed your own son for this slut and now you've driven your mother to her death!"

She raised her bag again, this time swinging at Claudia.

Jake lunged to shield her, taking the full brunt of the blow to the head. The impact made him dizzy. He blinked rapidly, gasping for breath. "Catherine... what did you just say?"