Letting You Rot With Your Fated Enemy

Twenty-eight days after my wife passed away.

The CEO of Blackwood Industriesthe man who had battled her in the marketplace for a lifetimealso committed suicide at his home.

His lawyer appeared immediately, presenting the joint will he and my wife had signed, stipulating in black and white that they were to be interred together.

Their story instantly became a legend.

The world marveled at the intensity of their yin and yang existence. They said their darkness and glory, their joy and anguish, were forever intertwined. They spoke of the CEO, who had never married, finally getting his wish: to be with his beloved in death.

No one spared a thought for me, her legitimate husband.

In their grand narrative, I didn't even rate a footnote as the jealous villain.

I lived out the next three years in obscurity.

When I finally closed my eyes, my soul was desolate.

When I opened them again, it was that summera scorching, cicada-loud heatwave.

Vivian Shaw was looking at me, a wide, sun-drenched smile on her face. She asked me to be her boyfriend.

This time, I looked into the eyes that had once been my whole world and slowly shook my head.

Vivians smile froze, her expression shifting to one of sheer confusion.

After a long silence, she finally found her voice. Spencer, I need a reason.

I thought we were just one word away from officially being together

That was your assumption! I cut her off, the words sharp and final.

Gazing at the slightly softer, younger version of Vivian Shaw, I forced myself to be cruel.

Ive never had those kinds of feelings for you. You completely misread the situation!

I didn't look at her again. I turned and fled.

The tears came the very second I turned my back, splattering onto my hand, a shock of cold that brought back the terrible reality of my rebirth.

Even though I knew with absolute clarity:

This Vivian Shaw had not yet met Damon Blackwood, the man whose name would be irrevocably linked with hers for the rest of that life.

She hadn't yet committed the acts that had shattered me in the past.

Still, I couldnt stop the resentment.

The memory of the last life was a rusted but razor-sharp knife. Every detail was embedded deep in my bones, a chronic, agonizing ache.

Before thirty-six, Vivian had belonged completely to Spencer.

She had abandoned the last three problems on her college entrance exam just because I'd said I didn't want a long-distance relationship.

Shed stayed up all night in winter, eyes red-rimmed, clumsily knitting me uneven scarves and blankets.

In her junior year, shed plunged into her first startup, driven only by the goal of building a life for us where wed envy no one.

But after thirty-six, Vivian Shaw was split in two.

One half was tethered to the marriage, to the responsibility, to methe increasingly silent husband.

The other half, however, drifted uncontrollably toward Damon Blackwood.

Toward the man who was her equal, her ultimate rival, her fated adversary.

That was also the year I traveled across the country, seeking out every specialist and remedy.

I finally managed to treat Vivians infertility, and we conceived our child.

Yet, she ignored the herbal tonics I painstakingly brewed to support the pregnancy. She paid no heed to the doctor's cautions.

Instead, she was locked in a brutal, back-and-forth corporate war with Damon Blackwood.

One day, it was the City Center merger; theyd drink until they had to prop each other up to walk.

The next, it was the Weston Project; theyd meet at some exclusive lounge, gambling with dice and drinking until dawn.

Once, at a corporate VIP event, they even walked away with a joke marriage certificate. They took a photo, posting it to social media, laughing with an unrestrained arrogance that made me sick.

Then, when she was seven months pregnant, Damon called.

In a light, challenging tone, he mentioned a newly discovered base-jumping site and dared her to join him.

She agreed almost instantly.

I grabbed her wrist, my voice shaking uncontrollably.

Vivian, are you insane? Look at your stomach! Thats our child!

She simply shrugged off my grip, annoyed by the interference.

I cant miss this opportunity. Damon is waiting on that chopper, I cant let him look down on me.

With that, she grabbed her jacket and ran out the door.

She even signed the consent form for an immediate inductionall so she could board that helicopter and go head-to-head with Damon Blackwood.

Later, she won the contest.

Damon posted a photo of the two of them leaping side-by-side from the high altitude, captioning it, "An equal opponent. What a thrill!" It drew thousands of awe-struck comments.

And I, in a hospital room smelling of antiseptic, was left alone.

I took home the remains of the girl who had been so close to full term.

She returned home a few days later.

She looked at the remainssmaller than a grapeand was silent for a rare, brief moment.

Then, without a word, she clasped a solid gold Rolex onto my wrist.

Spencer, I know this was wrong of me.

Well have another baby later, but I couldnt let Damon get the best of me

I stared at the watch for a long time.

My voice sounded dry, alien to my own ears.

Winning that jumpthe one you chose over me and our childhow did it feel?

Was it so exhilarating? Did it make you happier than seeing our baby?

A smug look crossed Vivian's face.

Of course. It was mainly that Damon finally had to admit defeat. She paused, attempting a hollow justification. Actually after the competition, I made him drink a bitter espresso, which he hates, as revenge for you and the baby.

I turned my head away, closing my eyes. A single tear tracked silently into my hairline.

My mind flashed with the comments from the gossip sites, the rabid fans of their "Rivalry Royalty" coupling.

They said: Rivals are rivals. Rivals can never become husbands.

Vivian.

In the moment you walked toward that jump site, deciding to give up our child did you really know if it was ambition, or something else entirely?

Vivians anxious voice broke through my daze.

Spencer.

She ran up and blocked my path, fine sweat beading on her forehead.

Spencer, why? You clearly clearly felt something for me too. Why this sudden change?

The twenty-year-old girl standing before me wasn't yet the corporate powerhouse of the past. Now, merely the rejection from the man she loved had made her eyes red.

She was like a small, stubborn, abandoned animal, demanding an answer.

My heart clenched painfully, leaving me breathless.

How could this be? How could the Vivian who panicked when I simply went silent turn into the woman she became?

The nightmare of the last life flashed before me again.

To win a property bid, Damon Blackwood spread rumors that Vivian was sexually harassing him.

Worse, at my fathers sixtieth birthday party, he played AI-spliced, intimate videos of her and Damon.

The entire room erupted in chaos.

My father suffered a cerebral hemorrhage on the spot and never recovered.

I drove like a maniac to Damons company, determined to kill him.

But Vivian rushed in and physically restrained me.

She gripped my wrist so hard I thought the bone would snap. Yet, her voice was terrifyingly calm.

You cant blame Damon for this.

Its Dads own fault for being so sensitive, for believing a fake video.

He knew his blood pressure was high, but he couldnt control his emotions. Besides, business is war. Winning is the only objective. No tactic is shameful.

I stared at her, chilled to the core.

That was my father! Vivian, the man who raised me! Are you going to use human lives as stepping stones in your rivalry?

The only response was her silence.

As I was half-dragged, half-shoved out of Damons office, I finally understood.

Vivians internal scales had completely tipped.

She wasn't split in two anymore. She had completely, irrevocably, tipped toward Damon.

The red-eyed girl in front of me was still anxiously awaiting my answer.

I dropped my gaze, forcing the words past a dry throat.

There is no why, Vivian.

Stop coming after me. From now on, we go our separate ways.

Vivian refused to believe me. Her eyes became redder, her voice edged with clear hurt.

Separate ways? We talked about this! I start my business, you go to grad school, and we build our lives in this city together

Her mouth kept moving, detailing the future we'd planned.

But she didn't know. In that future, only she would sail smoothly to success and fulfillment.

The memory snapped back to the fork in the road of the past life.

Near graduation, her startup was facing its toughest time; the funding was nearly dry. I, meanwhile, had received an acceptance letter to my dream graduate program overseas.

Everyone told me to give up the opportunity, that being the future CEOs husband was the smarter, more respectable path.

Vivian needs you right now. You should go help her.

I gritted my teeth, holding firm.

Until she was hospitalized with a bleeding stomach ulcer, caused by networking events and a chaotic schedule.

Lying pale in the hospital bed, she sold me the lie.

Spencer, youre so organized. It would be perfect if you came to work with me.

Well build this empire faster, together.

Just like that, I surrendered to her emotional manipulation.

But once I joined the company, I was merely the one who ordered the meals, ran errands, managed her calendar, and cleaned her office. I was the back office support.

It was grunt work anyone could do, and I wasnt even paid a dime.

Whenever I voiced my frustration, shed just smile and pinch my cheek, her tone dismissive.

Your job is to secure the home front, honey.

Youre the man behind the boss. Why would you need a salary?

I had glimpsed her underlying contempt for men involved in non-core business activities, but Id always buried it.

Until a few years later, when Damon Blackwood appeared.

That contempt vanished, replaced by an increasingly unconcealed admiration and respect.

My heart spasmed painfully. I covered my chest and returned to the present.

I quietly spoke her name.

Vivian.

She stopped talking, her eyes shining as she looked at me.

I was about to speak.

Suddenly, a clear, sharp male voice called out from nearby, interrupting us.

It was Damon Blackwood.

A man who should not have appeared for another decade.

Vivian clearly didn't know him and looked confused.

Damon smiled slightly.

Im Damon Blackwood, an exchange student from the University of Boston this semester.

Your advisor asked me to find you. The lecture this afternoon was moved up, and I needed to let you know.

Vivian paused, then nodded.

Okay, Ill head over now.

She turned back, her hopeful gaze landing on my face again.

Spencer, this is urgent.

But Ill come back for you. Were not finished talking about us.

With that, she rushed away.

I turned to leave, but Damon's voice rang out again behind me.

Spencer.

The smile in his eyes had completely faded, replaced by unconcealed malice.

I transferred here for Vivian.

This time, the person who starts the company with her, the one who shares the trenches, will be me.

I stopped, turning sharply to face him.

In that instant, I understood: Damon Blackwood had also been reborn.

But I couldn't understand why.

In the past life, he was already a brilliant, highly acclaimed business tycoon, his name linked with Vivians for a lifetime. Why would he give up that life to fight for a role that was destined to be the silent backdrop for a woman's ambition?

A torrent of questions churned inside me, but on my face, I managed only a faint smile.

Youre speaking to the wrong person, Blackwood.

Vivian Shaw and I are just acquaintances.

I turned to leave again.

Damon seemed stung by my calm indifference and sharply raised his voice.

Stop pretending you dont care!

You only got to her first because of luck! You know she ended up loving me, don't you?

When I didn't stop, he panicked. His words came out like poisoned needles.

The time you were hospitalized with the stomach ulcer, you saw Vivian come to the hospital and were touched, thinking she still cared, right?

I pitied you then, so I didn't tell you the truth.

My father had been in a car accident and needed a transfusion. Vivian heard and went straight to the blood bank for him.

It was never for you!

Damons voice echoed sharply in my ears.

But I couldnt hear anything else. The world suddenly went silent, and the heart in my chest dropped straight down.

That one momentthe belief that she had risked everything to save mehad been Vivians ultimate amnesty.

Every compromise, every act of self-deception, stemmed from that one beautiful, false memory.

It had been a ridiculous misunderstanding all along.

The burning sensation behind my eyes became unbearable, and tears streamed down my cheeks. I bit my lip and fled, not looking back.

I didn't stop until I reached a deserted side street. I sank to the ground, burying my face in my arms.

Scenes from the last life flashed through my mind:

I attended the same top university as Vivian.

My designs were already starting to gain recognition.

Yet, because of her, I overturned my life plan again and again.

First, I gave up the chance to study abroad for a domestic graduate program; then, at graduation, I forfeited that acceptance letter to become her company's so-called support staff.

I retreated again and again until I had no footing left.

By the end, I didnt even have the courage to question her relationship with Damon.

Thank God.

Thank God it wasnt too late.

I wiped the tears from my face, took a deep breath, and pulled out my phone.

I found the email address of the foreign professor I had once rejected.

Word by word, slowly and firmly, I typed:

Dear Professor Hayes,

After careful consideration, I have decided that I must pursue my studies abroad.

Please, may I ask for another opportunity?

Professor Hayes' reply was almost immediate:

Of course. Prepare your strongest portfolio and send it to me.

Closing the email, my life was suddenly full.

Digging up old designs, drawing new sketches, pulling all-nighters became the norm. I often looked up and saw the first grey light of dawn.

Vivian still showed up occasionally. Sometimes she waited with breakfast by my dorm, sometimes she sat silently in the back row of my study hall.

But she wasn't alone. Damon Blackwood was always there, too, hovering not too far away.

The twenty-year-old Vivian was direct and passionate; her world held only my retreating figure. She had no patience for the man who trailed her like a shadow.

Several times, she turned back, her tone icy.

Are you a piece of gum? Can you stop following me?

The students, who assumed Vivian and I were a couple, were also critical of Damon. They whispered that he had no boundaries. He was trying to be a homewrecker, chasing a girl who clearly had a boyfriend.

Because of this, Damon often looked teary-eyed when I ran into him, as if hed been crying.

Even so, he stubbornly stayed close behind Vivian.

Though I was committed to having no future with her, watching the young Vivian treat Damon with such cold indifference still brought a flicker of secret comfort.

At least, it proved that the young man I had been in the past had not been wrong.

Only the time, and the heart that changed later.

Two weeks later, the acceptance letter arrived.

I thought about it, then opened Vivian's chat window.

Lets meet. Dinner. I have something I need to tell you face-to-face.

Consider it a proper farewell to the twenty-year-old Vivian.

The reply was instantaneous.

YES! Name the time and place. Im free.

Through the screen, I could almost see her ecstatic expression. She was like a puppy, finally noticed by its owner.

We agreed on Friday night at the Thai place near campus that we used to frequent.

Wed barely sat down, the menus still unopened, when Vivians phone rang.

She glanced at it and immediately hit ignore.

But the phone stubbornly rang again.

This time, she hesitated before answering.

The moment she connected, a choked, male voice leaked from the speaker. The sound was loud, instantly filling the small space between us.

I recognized it immediately: Damon Blackwood.

Vivian, everyones calling me a homewrecker

I dont want to love you anymore. Ill leave, okay?

Vivian's face flushed with panic. She immediately lowered her voice.

Dont be ridiculous. Where are you right now?

The voice on the other end was even louder, racked with sobs.

But you and Spencer arent even together!

I just fell in love with someone, how am I the villain?

Could you could you come see me off?

Vivian gripped her phone, her knuckles white.

She looked up at me, her lips moving silently, her eyes filled with agonizing internal conflict.

After a long moment, she finally spoke, her voice dry.

Spencer, I have to go.

Damon he hasnt really done anything wrong.

Its because of me that everyones judging him so harshly. Its right that I go see him off.

I looked at her calmly.

The last flicker of my lingering affection for the young Vivian Shaw vanished in that instant.

Somewhere along the line, her impatient gaze toward Damon had been subtly seasoned with pity.

I realized: whether she was twenty or thirty-six, Damon Blackwood would always attract her attention.

I had been wrong from the start.

Terribly wrong.

I slumped back against the chair, saying nothing, just nodding my head.

She looked immensely relieved and immediately stood up, running out the door.

I sat alone in the noisy restaurant for a long time.

Until my phone screen lit up with a photo.

Under the hazy yellow streetlamp, Vivian was holding Damon tightly. They were kissing.

Below the photo was a single line of text:

You lose, in every lifetime.

I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then calmly blocked the number.

I stood up, paid the bill, and walked back to the dorm.

I pulled out the suitcase Id packed days ago, called a car, and headed straight for the airport.

The night grew deep, the city lights streaming past the window.

This time, the twenty-year-old Vivian Shaw, and the thirty-six-year-old Vivian Shaw, were both gone forever.