Chapter 20
I had naively thought that going back to San Francisco with Ryan to be the Scott family’s young madam was the best ending.
But the reality check hit me hard on the very first day I stepped into the Scott family.
That afternoon, a woman wearing a Chanel runway outfit stormed in angrily.
Before I could even react, she slapped me hard across the
face.
“Do you even know that Ryan and I have been engaged since childhood? I am his rightful fiancée!”
I stood frozen, my cheek burning.
I later found out she was Rebecca Morrow, the only daughter of an investment banking magnate.
She and Ryan grew up together; she was his childhood friend.
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That evening, when Ryan returned and saw the swelling on my face,
He immediately brought over the first aid kit, applied a cold compress for me, and explained, “I’ve only ever seen Rebecca as a little sister since we were kids. The arranged marriage was the elders’ idea; I will never acknowledge
it.”
He even went down on one knee, holding my hand, and said, “Once I handle this matter, I’ll definitely make it up to you with a perfect wedding.”
Even in that moment, I still held onto some illusion about
him.
Thinking he could really handle it.
But the next day, what I got wasn’t news of the called-off engagement, but word that Rebecca had slit her wrists and been rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment.
When Ryan got the call, he was frantic with worry, rushing out without even grabbing his jacket.
2
Ata a.m., Ryan returned.
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He looked utterly exhausted.
He sat down beside me, cautiously testing the waters, “Emily, I can’t have that wedding with you right now… Also… could you move out for a while… Rebecca is very fragile right now. Once she’s more stable, you can…”
I didn’t hear the rest, the last bit of hope in my heart completely extinguished.
I suddenly understood.
If I stayed by his side, the rest of my life would inevitably be trapped in the dramas of a wealthy family. Right now, maybe it was just one Rebecca, but what about in the future?
Ryan was handsome, had a great body, and was rich. Who knew how many more Rebeccas would throw themselves at him in the future?
The thought of such a bitter life as a resentful woman felt pathetic.
I looked into his eyes and said seriously, “Ryan, let’s get a
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divorce.”
Seeing me turn to leave, he hurriedly reached for my hand, but I avoided it.
I laughed coldly. “You promised I would never have to suffer grievances again, that I would never be abandoned.”
“If you can’t keep your promises, don’t make them so easily.”
That day, I walked out of the Scott estate alone. The early autumn wind carried a chill, but I felt I could breathe more freely than ever before.
After the divorce proceedings were finalized, Ryan gave me a settlement.
I took that money and went to Los Angeles.
This place offered equal opportunities, where women could pursue careers to their heart’s content.
I opened a clothing studio on Rodeo Drive named “ONE,” symbolizing uniqueness.
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Now, my ONE is quite well-known locally.
Ryan occasionally comes to LA on business and visits me, sometimes bringing friends to shop, sometimes alone.
As for whether he ended up marrying that childhood friend later, I don’t really care.
I used to be trapped in the obsession with being abandoned, letting others’ choices define my worth.
Now, I am no longer a vine that needs to cling to something, but a tree that stands as its own landscape.
When the wind comes, I sway with it; when it’s sunny, I grow freely.
This is the most comfortable way for me to coexist with this world.
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