Love Carried My Life Through Its Twists

The night before my wedding, I was falsely accused of pulling out Justin’s grandmother’s oxygen tube.

He knew I was innocent, yet not a single word of defense came from his lips.

Instead, he threatened me with prison if I didn’t sign a contract agreeing to work as a servant in the Harlow Family for one hundred days.

When the hopelessness became unbearable and I was ready to end it all with a bottle of sleeping pills in my hand, he finally told me that his childhood sweetheart had been diagnosed with a terminal illness overseas. Less than three months to live.

I stood there silently as he ended his call with the doctor.

He wanted to stage a performance and I decided to play along.

The wedding went on as planned. The two of them embraced and kissed deeply under the cheers of the guests.

Three months later, I vanished, leaving behind a diagnosis of terminal cancer.

He wept bitterly.

"Tell me you were lying to me…"

——

In the hospital, Justin Harlow clutched his grandmother’s death certificate, his eyes bloodshot.

"Don’t give me excuses. Grandma was under your care, so when something happened, you’re the one responsible."

"Starlene, cancel our wedding and tell all your relatives immediately."

"Replace the bride with Rhea. And sign this contract as an apology."

Just three sentences. That was all it took to shatter me.

I leaned against the cold wall, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

"What if I refuse?"

"The hospital corridors have surveillance cameras. You know I didn’t do it."

I couldn’t hold it in. I screamed at him, but his anger only burned hotter.

"Who would believe you? The surveillance footage has already been deleted. What you say now means nothing."

"Sign the contract or go to jail. Your choice."

I glanced past him toward the surveillance room he had just exited.

"Fine. I’ll sign."

My pride was stubborn and my dignity refused to kneel.

To be forced to serve him and his childhood sweetheart like a slave? To suffer false imprisonment? I would rather die.

Before leaving the hospital, I bought a bottle of sleeping pills.

On his third attempt to reach me, Justin kicked open my door and stormed in.

"What the hell are you trying to do?"

"I just asked you to take care of Rhea for three months. Must you make this so difficult?"

The bottle of sleeping pills shattered on the floor, its contents scattered everywhere.

Behind me, Rhea Winslet ran out crying in a nightgown.

Justin held back his fury and then threw a diagnosis report at me.

"Rhea was diagnosed with a terminal illness abroad. She has less than three months left. I don’t trust anyone else to care for her except you."

"I promise, just three months. After one hundred days, you’ll still be the only lady of the Harlow Family."

"My only wife, in this lifetime."

He thought I was clueless about Rhea faking her illness.

Well, I didn’t bother to expose her either.

If he wanted a stage to perform, then I would play along until the very end.

Wiping away my unshed tears, I curved my lips into a faint smile.

"All right. I'll do that."

After a sleepless night, dawn broke. Justin finally coaxed Rhea into leaving the hospital and brought her home.

He smiled tenderly at her, speaking with gentle patience.

"This is the maid I personally arranged for you. You’re not used to being back in the country yet, so feel free to ask her for anything you need."

Her eyes lit up with a shy smile.

"Last night… I thought you two…"

"No. I didn’t do anything with Starlene. There’s only you."

"During the six years you were abroad, I remained single. Besides Starlene as a maid, there was no other woman around me. If you don’t believe me, feel free to check my phone anytime."

Then, he handed her his phone.

"The password is still the same as when we were together."

The two of them grew closer, their shoulders brushing, their gazes locking. Rhea’s cheeks flushed pink.

She quickly pressed a gentle kiss to Justin’s lips.

"I didn’t mean it like that. How could I ever not trust you?"

"I’m just worried that if you ever find someone you truly like, my presence will only get in the way…"

Justin smiled, his expression soft and affectionate as he gently rubbed the tip of her nose.

"You’re still such a cutie, even after all these years."

Rhea’s gaze shifted toward me, lingering as though she had something on her mind.

"Since you’re a maid, wouldn’t it be improper for you to stay in a secondfloor bedroom?"

"Maids usually live on the first floor, don’t they? So, Starlene, please move your things. I have trouble sleeping and Justin doesn’t want anyone disturbing my rest."

My head snapped up at once.

The bedroom on the second floor was the wedding room I had painstakingly prepared for Justin and me.

I had moved in just two days before the ceremony and yet I hadn’t even slept there once.

Back when the renovations were happening, he had held me at the doorway and spoken so warmly.

"This room will be yours. I’ll connect all the secondfloor bedrooms for you. The servants aren’t allowed upstairs, so no one will ever intrude on our private time…"

Before I could say a word, he scooped Rhea into his arms and settled her comfortably on his lap.

"All right, we’ll do as this cutie Rhea says."

"What are you standing there for, Starlene? Go move your stuff."

He didn’t even spare me a glance as he said it.

The two of them kissed passionately, right in front of me.

A sudden wave of nausea rose in my throat, forcing me to turn and run. I vomited until my vision blurred and my head spun.

When I returned, my belongings had already been packed and tossed downstairs.

The maid around sneered at me.

"Starlene, you’re not planning to keep your things, are you? The lady of the house is in a hurry to move in and you’re too slow, so I helped you pack. You know, a maid should act like a maid."

My eyes fell on the shattered crystal ball ornament lying among the scattered belongings.

The little figurines inside—once embracing—were now broken into jagged pieces.

It had been custommade from a picture of me and Justin. He said it symbolized a love that could never be torn apart.

I dropped to my knees, frantically trying to piece the shards back together.

Blood welled from the cuts on my palms, but I felt nothing.

Rhea came over, covering her mouth in feigned shock.

"Starlene? Was this important to you? I’m so sorry—I didn’t think you had anything valuable, so I told them to clear it away."

"Why don’t I buy you another? How much was it?"

A tear splashed onto my hand as I gave a cold, bitter laugh.

"No need. Once something’s broken, it can never be the same. Even if you replace it, it’s never the same."

Hearing that, Rhea immediately crouched down beside me.

"Let me help you clean it up. Maybe it can still be repaired."

Without thinking, I shoved her hand away.

She staggered backward and fell neatly into Justin’s arms.

Above me, his eyes blazed with anger.

"It’s just a broken glass ornament. Is that worth making such a scene? What if Rhea had been hurt?"

"Rhea, leave it—it’s nothing but a cheap trinket. Just throw it out."

As he carried her away, his foot came down hard on the shards.

Blood seeped from my palm, but the ache in my chest hurt far more.

When I finished moving my luggage into the maid’s room, I passed by the living room. Rhea was leaning into Justin’s chest, the two of them watching a romantic drama together.

Now and then, carefree laughter filled the air—each burst piercing my ears.

"Rhea, don’t you think the female lead looks just like you? Back then, whenever you got jealous, you’d give me the silent treatment until I had to kiss you just to win you back."

"No way, I wasn’t that unreasonable!"

"Oh really? If she looks like me, then I’d say the male lead looks like you, too. I chased you far more relentlessly than that. Remember the fireworks outside the girls’ dorm? Three nights in a row, nonstop. The only one who didn’t see them was the principal. He was away on a business trip."

"Come on, tell me the truth. How much did you pay my roommates to keep an eye on me? You even knew the exact moments I spoke to any male classmates."

Justin smiled as he playfully tickled her, his expression open and relaxed in a way I had never seen before.

Before this, I had always believed that Justin Harlow was simply a man indifferent by nature—someone who neither understood love nor knew how to cherish a woman.

But now I realized I was wrong.

It was not that he couldn’t understand. It was just that he never wanted to understand me.

That was why pretending to be ignorant was simply the easiest, cheapest way for him.

As the last box of my luggage was carried away, Justin’s voice rang out, impatient and commanding.

"What are you still standing there for? Have someone clean the room right away. Rhea and I will be staying here tonight."

"Oh and she doesn’t like the pink decorations on the wall. Take them all down."

"Throw away the red ones, too and replace them with light blue."

Everything he dismissed so casually had been the result of my painstaking choices—made over countless sleepless nights—just a month before our wedding.

Black, white and gray had always felt too cold to me, yet he disliked vibrant colors.

So I had compromised, balancing between warmth and restraint, personally visiting store after store, comparing countless options to find the perfect pieces.

And now, all of it was headed straight for the trash.

A bitterness so heavy filled my chest that even breathing felt like scraping against my ribs.

I collapsed onto the bed, utterly drained. Even during that month I spent caring for his grandmother, I hadn’t felt this bonedeep exhaustion.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes forever—not to see, not to hear, not to feel.

But reality never granted such luxuries.

At six in the afternoon, there was a sudden, urgent pounding on my door.

"I’ve sent you the list of Rhea’s dietary restrictions. Check your phone and make sure you don’t miss a single detail."

Upstairs, the other maids were busy setting up Rhea’s room.

Meanwhile, I stood alone in the kitchen, preparing dishes from eighteen different regions.

I had collected these recipes long ago.

Back then, my only thought was that Justin worked so tirelessly and his sole comfort should be coming home to a warm meal.

I wanted him to relax, to feel cared for through delicious food.

But before I could ever make that happen, everything had already changed.

Laughter floated in from the living room. The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder, a tablet in hand, browsing wedding supplies.

"This decoration is awful! Justin, when did your taste get so tacky?"

"I don’t want a dull, conventional wedding. I want something unique and modern. And the gown… the whiter, the better. Just like our relationship."

"Why did you have a plan ready so early? Were you planning to marry someone else before I came back?"

The dull, conventional wedding she scoffed at was actually the very plan I had spent half a year perfecting.

Justin’s smile faltered for just a moment and his eyes flicked instinctively toward the kitchen.

Then he touched his nose as he laughed lightly.

"How could that be? If you never came back, I’d spend the rest of my life waiting for my bride."

"Even if I reach seventy or eighty—until I’m buried—the only one by my side would still be you."

"Heh, you’re just trying to sweettalk me."

He chuckled low in his throat.

"I can sweettalk you in other ways, too. Want me to prove it right now?"

"Stop it, or I’ll get mad! Don’t kiss my neck—we’ve got a wedding photoshoot tomorrow."

"All right, all right. Then I’ll only kiss the places your wedding dress will cover. How about that?"

It felt as though invisible hands had gripped my heart, crushing it, then tearing it apart.

All I could hear after that were their footsteps, fading into the distance.

Eighteen dishes stood ready on the dining table, but the two of them remained in the bedroom.

The servants and I waited in silence all night.

By dawn, exhaustion overcame me and I dozed off—only to be jolted awake by the shrill ring of a phone.

"What kind of photographer is this? I look terrible! Justin, does my face really look that big?"

"Find someone else. Leave them a bad review!"

His tone was indulgent, almost amused.

"All right, as you wish."

Then, switching to another call, his voice instantly turned cool.

"Starlene, head to the beach. I’ll give you one hour."

"Bring your cameras and everything you need."

"Rhea loves your work, so don’t keep her waiting."

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, freezing me in place.

He knew better than anyone that I hadn’t touched a camera since the day I took my parents’ memorial portraits.

And yet, he still said this.

My fingers clenched tightly around the phone and my voice trembled as I forced the words out.

"I can’t help you with this. I don’t know how to take good photos. Just find someone else."

Justin’s patience immediately snapped.

"Mind your manners. Don’t forget the contract you agreed to. You don’t get to make demands of me."

"Half an hour. One minute late and I’ll see you at the police station."

The line went dead with a brutal click and my chest throbbed with pain.

When I collapsed onto the bed, my tears streamed down, soaking the pillow and sheets.

Perhaps… perhaps he had kept me around all this time for this very moment.

But there was no time to dwell. I grabbed my longunused camera equipment with dust clinging stubbornly to its surface and ran to the beach.

The coastline stretched out before me, empty except for the small filming crew.

I had chosen this place simply because I loved it.

Justin had once bought this land at a staggering price.

I remember teasing him back then, "Buying land and leaving it undeveloped—won’t you end up losing everything, my dear Mr. Harlow?"

He had held me in his arms, his eyes fixed on the sunset. His voice had been so gentle that it almost felt like a dream.

"Having you is the greatest reward heaven could ever give me."

For that one sentence, I had chosen this place for our wedding photos.

And for our wedding itself.

I had imagined us walking hand in hand along the shore, receiving the blessings of our family and friends.

I had pictured our children laughing as we played together in the sand.

And I had even taught myself a bit of architectural design, sketching a seaside villa that would be our secret hideaway, just for the two of us.

Now, every one of those dreams lay shattered, the fragments turning into sharp blades slicing into my heart.

Rhea had been waiting for a while, impatience already written across her face.

She slipped her arm through Justin’s and gave it a light shake, her tone sweet but tinged with complaint.

"UV rays cause aging, you know. I’ve been baking in the sun all this time—you owe me."

"Put the villa in my name and buy me that Hermès bag I’ve been wanting."

"Just in case you ever change your mind—consider it my insurance."

Her playful manner drew a laugh from him almost instantly.

"Change my mind? That won’t happen until I’m dead."

"You’re too late anyway—the bag and the property deed are already on your bedside table. You’ll see them when you get home."

"Next time, try asking for something I don’t already know about, or you'll ruin the surprise."

When her eyes flicked toward me, Rhea leaned even closer into him, tightening her grip on his arm.

"Starlene, you’re here. I heard you majored in photography—mind handling today’s shoot?"

"Oh and I don’t like red roses. Change them to white lilies. They suit my personality better."

My breath caught in my throat.

In my parents’ memorial photos, they had been surrounded by white lilies.

That image flashed through my mind again and again, the tension in my head winding tighter until it felt as if it might snap.

"Miss, weddings are meant to be joyful. White lilies just… carry a heavy meaning. How about we choose another white flower instead?"

Rhea's voice immediately turned sharp.

"What’s that supposed to mean? I have to set aside my own preferences just to please you now? Why are you talking to me like this? Are you calling someone here… a depressing person?"

Justin’s face darkened instantly, his eyes cutting toward me like shards of ice.

"She likes it, so that’s what we’ll use. You’re just a hired hand here—remember your place."

"And if I hear that tone from you again, you know exactly what will happen."

The wound on my palm had barely healed and now it split open beneath my nails. Warm blood seeped into the sand, blooming red against the pale grains.

I swallowed the storm rising in my chest, forcing my voice to stay steady.

After a long, heavy silence, I simply nodded.

I should have walked away from this relationship long ago.

And yet, in that moment, I felt an odd, fleeting gratitude toward him—gratitude for his cruelty. Because it forced me to wake up faster than I ever could have on my own.

Once the camera equipment was in place, I shot in three different styles.

With every click of the shutter, Rhea’s smile thinned.

"Starlene, are you doing this on purpose? Trying to get back at me?"

"What’s the difference between these dull shots and any other wedding photos?"

"Don’t play innocent. I saw the wedding photos in your room—the ones you took with someone else. That’s the style I want."

She was talking about the sample shots I had taken with Justin back then. In the final edits, I had erased his face for artistic effect.

His gaze swept over me, calm and cold, his tone carrying an unshakable certainty.

"Is this too hard for you, Starlene? You wouldn’t forget something you shot yourself, would you?"

"I remember. So… please bear with me one more time?"

I knew I had no right to refuse. My voice could not hide the weariness seeping into my bones.

Rhea’s intentions were too obvious.

And yet Justin didn’t even bother to intervene.

Thousands of shots later, she still wasn’t satisfied.

It wasn’t that I failed to capture the way Justin looked at her with open admiration.

It was that I kept "getting the lighting wrong," "missing the right pose," "choosing the wrong moment."

Only when the camera memory was completely full did she finally nod in approval.

"That’s it. Though, of course, the very first one was the best."

After that, they turned toward the car together.

"Starlene, the sports car only seats two. I’m afraid you’ll have to find your own way back."

"The passenger seat belongs to her anyway. She knows her place."

I let my arms drop helplessly. After holding the camera for so long, my muscles ached too much to even lift it again.

By the time I returned to the villa that night, it was well past midnight and the mountain of photo edits was still waiting for me.

Rhea had suddenly decided to move the wedding up by an entire week.

It now landed squarely on the date that was once meant for my own wedding.

Over the next three days, I scraped together barely five hours of sleep in total.

On the morning of the wedding, my phone buzzed nonstop with messages from relatives back home.

They wanted to know why I had suddenly canceled my wedding and whether something had gone wrong between Justin and me.

The family group chat was packed with messages urging me not to be impulsive.

They reminded me, again and again, that the Harlow Family’s background was far beyond my reach.

Every word meant as comfort only pressed deeper into my wound and I couldn’t bring myself to reply.

The vast villa was silent, only the maid and I remained. Rhea had given everyone else the day off before the wedding "to avoid distractions."

For six hours straight, I ran from room to room, making sure every last decoration was in place.

I had thought that after these grueling days, I might be able to watch this wedding, the one that wasn’t mine, with a kind of detached calm.

But the moment I saw Rhea wearing the wedding dress I had spent half a year choosing, my vision blurred.

Her lips curved in a smile.

"Am I really that beautiful, Starlene? Why are you crying?"

"They decided at the last minute to switch to a conventional wedding style. The makeup artist didn’t know how to adjust for it, so she quit."

"By the way, you’re so good at makeup. Why don’t you do mine today?"

She was about the same size as me, so the gown fit her perfectly and no alterations were needed.

Dizziness hit me and the staircase seemed to tilt beneath my feet.

Suddenly, a figure appeared behind me and I stumbled into a broad chest.

Rhea tilted her head, pouting in mock grievance.

"If you don’t want to, just say so, Starlene. No need to make a show of refusing me, okay?"

Turning around, I met Justin’s eyes—cold, sharp and threatening.

"She wouldn’t dare, would you, Starlene?"

In that instant, the dam inside me finally burst.

I almost asked Justin if, from the very beginning, he had never intended for me to wear this dress.

If, from the start, I had never been the real bride in his version of the story.

If my presence had only ever been a bargaining chip, a lure to bring Rhea Winslet back to this country.

But all those questions tangled in my throat and his sharp, warning gaze snuffed out any courage I had.

In the end, I could only force out one word. "Okay."

When the makeup was finished and the wedding began, Rhea wasted no time in taking me away again.

Under the watchful eyes of every guest, she stood on stage hand in hand with Justin, the picture of a perfect couple.

They slid onto each other’s fingers the wedding rings I had customordered.

They drank from the wedding cups I had personally chosen.

When the host prompted them to embrace and kiss, Rhea’s eyes immediately found me, sparkling with excitement.

"This moment is so important, so we have to record it. Starlene, you handle the filming."

"So we can show it to our baby someday."

Dozens of gazes turned toward me at once.

And my blood ran cold.

Only then did Justin seem to realize I was even there.

"Why did you bring her?"

"There are plenty of reporters here. She doesn't need to handle this."

Rhea pouted in fake annoyance.

"Say that again and I’ll run straight out of this wedding. Reporters’ photos are just terrible—what if people think you, the great Justin Harlow, married an ugly monster?"

"All right, fine. Let her do it."

And so, the two of them kissed deeply for ten full minutes. And for that ten full minutes, I stood there holding the camera.

Even the lines the host spoke to stir up cheers—those were my words.

Now, they were blessings for someone else.

Something inside me broke. My knees gave way and I sank to the side.

The last thing I heard before darkness closed in was their voices, perfectly in sync.

"I do."

When I opened my eyes again, the ceremony was already over and the driver was taking me back to the villa.

He mentioned casually that Justin had taken Rhea on their honeymoon and wouldn’t return for two months.

I glanced down at the faint bruises and needle marks on the back of my hand, which were still not healed.

And suddenly, I remembered—back when I still loved him—waiting in the pouring rain for three hours while he finished a business dinner.

I had fallen sick afterward. And that time, he stayed by my side the entire time, never leaving.

He had said softly back then, "It’s my fault for not taking care of my woman properly."

"This lifetime, I swear I’ll never let you catch a cold again."

Slowly, I stood and began packing only my own belongings, leaving everything he had given me behind.

As I slid into the car, his plane must have landed, because a rare message appeared on my phone.

[You’ve done so well. The house is in your hands. Hold on for two more months and I’ll be back soon.]

[When I return, I’ll arrange a wedding for you, one that will be even grander than Rhea’s.]

[Thank you for your understanding, Starlene. I just don’t want Rhea to have any regrets before she leaves.]

But why must their regrets always be paid with my own sincerity?

Tears slid onto the phone screen. I didn’t reply. Instead, I dialed another number.

"Dr. Brian? Yes, please help me get a death certificate."

Since he loved to act, I would give him a stage and this would be my final gift to him.

The death certificate arrived at the villa and I dragged my suitcase out the door without looking back, heading straight for the airport.

At that same moment, in Paris, Justin stared at his phone. The message thread remained unanswered for so long that a prickling unease and irritation began to stir.

"What’s wrong with Starlene? We just left and she’s already out of reach. Can’t you control her?"

"She doesn’t answer calls or reply to messages. Who spoiled her like this?"

Rhea emerged from the bathroom in a loose bathrobe, damp hair dripping onto her shoulders.

Her smooth legs hooked around the man’s waist.

"With how exhausting the wedding was, it’s normal for Starlene to want some rest."

"If I had a boss as coldhearted as you, I would have quit long ago."

"Since we’re on our honeymoon, don’t worry about things at home. We can talk it out with Starlene when we return."

Justin gave a brief nod, his eyes already clouding over with desire.

Two months later, they finally returned from their honeymoon abroad.

As soon as they stepped into the villa, Justin’s voice rang out instinctively, "Starlene? Starlene, quick help Rhea with her luggage."

This time, there was no familiar, gentle reply.

The servants froze midtask, exchanging uneasy glances before one of them stepped forward.

"Sir, Starlene left two months ago."

"She only left this behind and she said you should see it yourself."

The servant extended a medical diagnosis. Terminal cancer.

At a glance, the blood drained from Justin’s face.