He Married Her Instead

When he promised me a bright future, his eyes held only me.

Back then we had nothing, cramming ourselves into a rented room to eat stale bread.

He held me and said, When the company goes public, I'll marry you.

I stayed with him through the hardest days, from a basement startup to a ten-billion-dollar fortune.

I naively waited for that day.

But when the company finally went public, he held the hand of a woman in white and said to me, "Sophia, you need to be understanding."

The day news of his marriage to Charlotte spread, I was doing my makeup.

Aaron carefully carried in documents, not daring to lift his head even once.

He'd been by Ethan's side for a long time, witnessing all our vows of eternal love.

Even he knew to feel guilty.

What about you, Ethan?

I laughed self-mockingly and casually took the documents without signing.

"Where is he?"

Aaron lowered his head even further. "Mr. Sterling is in a meeting and can't get away, but he's been thinking of you constantly."

My smile didn't reach my eyes. "He's with Charlotte, isn't he?"

Aaron fell silent.

So I'd guessed right.

Whatever.

I watched Aaron leave.

Outside, unseasonable snow began to fall, landing lightly on my heart.

My first meeting with Ethan was in weather just like this.

My father returned from a business trip with a young man at his side.

He wore a black coat.

Though young, his sharp eyes radiated calm authority.

I stood behind the corridor.

My father spotted me and beckoned me over. "This is my daughter Sophia. She's my only child. I've spoiled her terribly. If she offends you, I'll discipline her myself."

I stood frozen, thinking only that this young man was impossibly handsome, forgetting to respond.

He smiled, his eyes showing a trace of gentleness that made my vision blur.

I didn't know then that he would become a business titan worth billions.

I called him Ethan and pestered him to teach me about business.

He showed no impatience.

Through blazing summers and bitter winters, he accompanied me running deals on the front lines.

My mother teased me. "Your father used to make you wake early to review reports, and you'd cry like a monkey. Now look at you, running to the office every day. You've gotten taller and darker. You don't look like a girl at all. I wonder how you'll ever get married."

I said it didn't matter, but my hands kept applying skincare products.

A young girl's feelings are always transparent.

I loved his composure, his occasional melancholy, his every word and action, his every gesture.

Ethan treated me well too.

In his spare time he'd take me to drink wine.

Each time he returned from business trips, he brought me novel gifts.

I was spirited and impulsive, yet this decisive man used nothing but gentle words with me.

Besides my father and my brother Jason, he was the best man to me.

The world was in chaos then, the internet wave sweeping in, countless startups rising and falling.

My family had been in business for generations.

My father wasn't rigid like ordinary men - from childhood he taught me finance, strategy, management, and business logic.

As a child I hated these lessons, always envying the neighbor girl who could act spoiled and throw tantrums, while I got scolded by my father if my PowerPoints weren't good enough.

Fortunately, Ethan was a good teacher.

He never spoke harshly to me.

Even when extremely frustrated, he'd just take a deep breath and smile with resignation.

"Sophia, the cherries in the suburbs are ripe. Let me take you to pick some."

I tossed aside my laptop and followed him.

He drove me to an orchard, nimbly climbed a tree, and picked a bag of cherries.

I munched happily on the cherries.

A breeze blew gently.

He sat on the hillside in his black clothes, staring intently at the cherries in his hand.

Ethan's mother had loved cherries most.

Back then I was carefree and didn't recognize the emotion he was emanating - called sorrow.

That autumn night, I watched fireworks with him but encountered an attack by business rivals.

We fled together, scrambling into an abandoned factory.

He had multiple knife wounds and soon developed a high fever.

He became delirious with fever, mumbling half-conscious, "Mom, I picked cherries for you. Please try them."

Only then did I learn his family had suffered a major tragedy.

That tragedy was extremely brutal.

I couldn't imagine how an eight-year-old Ethan survived that disaster.

Touching his burning body, my heart ached terribly.

I soaked my clothes in cold water, moved swiftly through the night, removed his shirt and held his solid chest, trying to cool him down.

After several trips, he finally wasn't burning anymore.

At dawn the next day, the morning chill made me sneeze.

Ethan, nestled in my arms, suddenly woke.

Our eyes met.

Ethan, who'd faced a dozen thugs the night before without changing expression, now touched his bare upper body and for the first time blushed.

Shortly after returning, I fell ill.

I lay in bed like a dead fish, my throat burning.

Ethan was devastated, sitting by the bed feeding me almond milk, staying awake for four whole days.

Finally my mother couldn't stand it and persuaded him to change clothes and sleep.

Before turning twenty, Ethan could already lead a team to secure agency rights for the entire East Coast region.

My father praised him endlessly whenever he mentioned him.

He said Ethan was accomplished beyond his years, with immeasurable prospects, and wanted to betroth me to him.

My mother said Ethan was no ordinary man and worried.

My father laughed heartily, saying his daughter naturally deserved the best man in the world.

I eavesdropped outside the door.

Truth was, since that night in the factory, I'd already considered myself Ethan's.

But if you'd lived to see this day, you'd surely regret that decision.

I was with Ethan for seven years.

When he turned thirty, when his company went public and he was worth billions, the person he chose to marry wasn't me.

He held Charlotte's hand.

They chatted pleasantly.

The woman wore a white dress, gentle and lovely, delicate as a flower.

Of course.

A man like Ethan should naturally like someone like Charlotte.

Charlotte was his biggest investor's daughter.

Now he needed capital to consolidate his empire.

A marriage alliance was the best choice.

I should have known.

I stumbled back to the apartment in a daze, but in my mind was the night we got our marriage certificate at nineteen.

He held me and said, "Sophia, I, Ethan Sterling, will never let you down in this lifetime."

The night I discovered him with Charlotte, I said I wanted to leave.

For the first time in his life he lost his temper with me, his suppressed anger barely contained.

"Sophia, you need to be understanding."

But I'm your wife!

I couldn't suppress the sourness in my eyes, stubbornly refusing to look at him.

We remained at an impasse for a while.

Finally he softened his voice, trying to reason with me. "She and I are just business partners. I only love you. After all these years, don't you know that?"

I said nothing.

He continued. "I'll make you company vice president with the same stake as me. You won't have to bow to anyone."

I looked deeply at his features.

They were no different from before, yet I couldn't find a trace of familiarity.

Was he still my Ethan?

"Can I make one request?"

He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I'd compromised, and quickly asked what I wanted.

"Let Jason go."

He froze, instinctively saying, "No."

I laughed coldly and pointed to the door, telling him to leave.

"I'll agree to anything you ask, except this. Sophia, don't make this difficult for me."

Making it difficult - as if I were being unreasonable.

When Ethan conquered half his business empire, my father died in that merger war.

I held his cold body, crying until no more tears came.

He, usually calm and composed, also reddened his eyes.

I said I no longer had a father.

He pulled me into his arms, lips trembling, saying "don't be afraid" over and over.

My family poured out all our wealth and exhausted all our connections for Ethan.

Jason was sent to prison by him on charges of "corporate espionage," while I was placated with a vice president position.

Jason fought alongside him in the business world, but in the end, Ethan couldn't tolerate him.

Since my father's death, they'd gradually developed conflicts and began competing openly and covertly.

Ethan worried Jason's prestige would exceed his own.

The first thing he did after going public was fabricate evidence and send him to prison with a heavy sentence.

I didn't blame him.

But he shouldn't have used such charges to tarnish Jason's name.

I looked at him pleadingly, crushing my former pride.

What did it matter - spending a lifetime at the company, competing with many women for one man's favor, becoming what I once despised most?

Compared to Jason's life, what did it matter?

I traded my compliance for his promise - to let Jason serve his sentence under house arrest, leave the business world, and never step foot in this circle again.

Seeing me like this for the first time, he contemplated for a long while before finally saying softly, "Alright."

After many days, a weight finally lifted from my heart.

I sincerely thanked him.

As long as someone's alive, there's still hope.

Before the wedding, I didn't see Ethan once.

I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the city skyline.

How absurd - just a year ago today, I was chasing Ethan across the desert in an SUV.

Now I'd become a resentful woman confined to her chambers.

The hotel was holding a ceremony.

Even from miles away, the exuberant cheers reached my ears.

My assistant Peach came out, saying my health was poor and I couldn't stand the cold wind.

I should go back inside.

I found it somewhat amusing.

Once upon a time I could work three days and nights straight, praised as an iron lady with heroic grace.

Now people said my health was poor.

Thinking carefully, I hadn't slept well in a very long time.

I asked Peach to bring me sedatives.

After taking them I prepared for sleep.

Ethan came home half-drunk, stumbling into my apartment.

He kissed my lips as he used to, removed my clothes, and bent his head to work.

I suddenly spoke. "Is this how you treat Charlotte too?"

He froze abruptly and climbed off me. "Why bring her up?"

I smiled and dressed. "Now she's the legitimate Mrs. Sterling."

I still remembered when he'd first achieved success, someone sent him a female celebrity.

I made a scene at the company, humiliating the partner who sent her.

Ethan just looked at me with indulgence and laughed, dismissed the person, and bought me a limited-edition sports car to appease me.

Back then, I wouldn't allow anyone to take any of Ethan's love.

"When we're together, let's not mention others, okay?"

He patiently coaxed me, wanting me to act spoiled with him like before.

I smiled bitterly. "That I'm still willing to stay here is already my biggest concession. From now on, don't come to my place."

He sat up abruptly, gripping my face in the dim light, forcing me to look at him. "Sophia, what do you mean?"

I looked directly at him. "I made myself very clear. Don't you understand?"

Anger flashed in his eyes, like a venomous wolf.

My shoulder had an old injury - from when I'd blocked a knife for him.

It ached unbearably on rainy days.

But now he paid no heed to my injury, gripping my shoulder with brutal force.

I curled up in pain.

He ignored it, still ramming recklessly.

"Sophia! No one can defy me!"

That night was exceptionally long.

Afterward, he tossed me aside like a rag.

"Think it over. I'm leaving."

The lights went out.

Tears slid down my face, burying themselves in my hair.

I suddenly felt panicked.

If my father and mother had spirits in heaven, what would they think seeing me like this?

Ethan, you promised my father.

You can't treat me this way.

The night before Jason left, I visited him at the detention center.

After this parting, I didn't know when my brother and I would meet again.

Seeing the wounds on Jason's hands, my nose stung. "I'm useless. I couldn't protect you."

He shook his head. "What kind of man needs his sister's protection? How embarrassing would that be?"

He was silent for a long time, then suddenly spoke. "My father and I failed to judge character and let a wolf into our home. How could I blame you? From now on you'll be alone. It'll be hard on you."

I wiped away tears. "Live well after you get out. Don't harbor any rash thoughts. Ethan now isn't the same as he was."

No one could oppose him anymore.

He looked at me with a smile, his messy hair unable to hide his handsomeness. "Sophia's all grown up."

Jason left.

He was restricted from leaving the country, his phone's location tracked 24/7.

He had to report to local authorities regularly and couldn't even find decent work.

My once-proud brother now struggled just to survive.

I begged Ethan to help smooth things over.

He agreed verbally but then arranged for Jason to go to the most remote small city, euphemistically calling it "lying low."

Ethan restricted my freedom.

I couldn't see Jason off.

I gazed into the distance, silently repeating: it's good he's gone, it's good he's gone.

Far from this place of conflict, to find his own vast sky.

I hoped Jason's remaining years would go more smoothly than mine.

...

After Ethan went public, only Charlotte and I were women in the company.

I was sewing a small bag when the secretary announced Charlotte's arrival.

He'd specifically permitted me not to bow to anyone, so to this day I hadn't met her alone.

She still wore a white dress, looking pure and flawless, beautiful beyond mortal women.

"I've been wanting to visit you, but I've been busy accompanying Ethan lately and couldn't get away. I've only come to see you today. Please don't blame me."

She sat down casually with a sweet smile, giving no grounds for criticism.

I studied my embroidery pattern carefully. "Charlotte, you're too kind. I can't accept being called that. I should be the one visiting you."

She propped her chin up. "You've fought alongside Ethan for years. That he lets you bow to no one - what respect that shows. Unlike me, I spent my days in my chamber before. Ethan felt sorry for me and didn't want me to live a life on the knife's edge with him..."

I paused.

The needle pricked my finger.

I heard the turbulent voice within my heart, though my face remained calm.

"When did you two meet?"

Charlotte smiled shyly, the picture of feminine charm. "Ethan and I? Three years ago, I suppose. My father greatly admired him. He promised to marry me, so my father invested to help him go public..."

Three years ago, three years ago...

So early...

Back then we were still the couple everyone in the company envied.

I looked at the pouch in my hands.

I used to dislike this detailed work, but Ethan's clothes inevitably came undone, so I learned to clumsily use a sewing needle to mend them.

Ethan wore pajamas, propping his head up under the lamp watching me with a smile. "Viewing a beauty by lamplight truly has special charm."

I blushed and glared at him. "We're an old married couple and you're still so improper."

...

My vision blurred.

My attendant Peach noticed something wrong and quickly came to support me.

I waved my hand indicating I was fine. "I'm not feeling well. Please leave. Come another day."

Charlotte pouted, looking bored as she left.

I instructed Peach to throw away all the needlework.

Peach looked regretful. "But it's almost finished. Why would you..."

I interrupted her. "No reason. I just never want to touch it again."

Something already dirty - why keep it for nostalgia?