My Ex Mails Me Our Past When I'm Married

On the seventh year after the breakup, I receive a package from Clarence Fraser. All 44 pounds of said package consist of the stacks of chat history I have with him in the past. Soon, Clarence's text appears on my phone screen. "Wanna meet up? I'd like to tell you something." I pause momentarily before responding with a "1". That number signifies rejection. Then, I turn my phone off. After wiping my sweat off with a towel, I pick up another crate of fruits and continue promoting them to the customers loudly, as though nothing has happened. It's been so many years, and I don't know why Clarence decides to text me all of a sudden. Similarly, he doesn't know that I've already become someone else's wife a long time ago. Chapter 1 My phone buzzed with yet another message from Clarence Fraser. "Let's do it tomorrow. It's your birthday anyway. Let's meet up." I looked down at my phone and typed a quick response, rejecting him once more. "No can do. I haven't got anyone to man the store." Without waiting for his reply, I turned off the screen and slipped my phone into my pocket. My fingers curled slightly, tracing the scar on my wrist. It had been so long that I almost thought I had forgotten he existed. But right now, I finally saw that I hadn't. Those rotten, bloodstained memories had long since seeped into my bones. Just then, footsteps sounded at the entrance. Carrying a crate of fruits in my arms, I instinctively called out, "Hey there, welcome! Feel free to take a look at what we have. You should check out the cherries—they're fresh. And we've also got blueberries, melons, and a bunch of other options. They're really great quality at great prices—" "Bethany Holmes." I paused at the deep, low voice and looked up, just to meet Clarence's intense gaze. He walked in carrying a birthday cake, his eyes fixed on me with a complicated expression. "Long time no see. Happy birthday." I stood stunned for a moment before smiling. "It's been long indeed. Is there anything you need, sir?" He set the cake down and stared at me for a long while. "Well, why don't you tell me what you have?" I immediately wiped my hands on my apron and beamed. "Sure thing, sir. The cherries came in fresh this morning, and we've got some really sweet oranges, and the peaches are pretty good—" "Bethany," he said, his voice low, his gaze never leaving me. "Do you have anything good for pregnant women?" I was talking a mile a minute and hurriedly wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Then, I quickly answered, "Yes, we do. We've got plenty. The oranges would make a good choice. They're sweet and tart, so that makes them good for stimulating the appetite. The grapefruits are excellent too, as they're rich in vitamin C. What do you think?" The corner of his lips twitched, and he pointed at random. "I'll take all of them. Just weigh them out as you see fit." "Coming right up!" As I bent down to pack them, Clarence suddenly placed his hand over mine. "Bethany, don't you have anything to ask me?" My hands paused. There was nothing to ask. His grand wedding with Lynette Wyndham had made headlines. It was only natural for her to be pregnant and have a child. All of a sudden, a shrill voice rang out as a woman stormed in, dragging her child behind her as she complained loudly. "Hey! What's the deal with your fruits? They went bad after just two days at home! My son ended up in the hospital after eating some! And to think that you sold them at such an expensive price! You're a real rip-off!" "Ma'am, it's been really hot lately. I should have warned you that the fruits will go bad if left out in the open. The fault's all mine. "But how's your child doing now? Is he okay? Tell you what, I'll cover the medical bills. I'm just running a small business here, but next time you come, everything's on me. How does that sound?" "Ugh, that sounds more like it. I'll let things slide for your sake," she grumbled. After slipping a few apples to the kid, I finally turned my focus back on Clarence. I nodded at him and said, "Sorry about that, sir. These come to 68 dollars. Just give me 60." Clarence stared at me blankly, his lips parting as if to speak, but in the end, he looked away. "Bethany, you weren't like this before." My smile stiffened a little. Before, when I was with him, I wore the best clothes, used the most expensive skincare, and even the wine I casually gave away started at five figures. But times had changed. Now, I worried over just a few dollars. I handed him the packed fruit with a calm expression. "People change. Just like you have." He seemed to want to say something, but ultimately held back. Then, he took the fruit, scanned the payment, and stared at me for a long time before finally turning to leave. "A deposit of 143,000 dollars has been credited to your account." A faint smile tugged on my lips as the voice notification sounded, and I sent the excess money back. He was still the same as ever. Money seemed to be his solution to everything. Chapter 2 The next morning, my employee, Maureen Somner, handed me a document envelope as soon as I stepped into the store. "Beth, someone dropped this off for you this morning." Frowning, I opened it. It was an offer letter from Fraser Corporation. Maureen couldn't help but exclaim, "Fraser Corporation? Beth, is it the Fraser Corp. that I'm thinking of?" "Yeah," I mumbled, looking down at the letter. "But how do you know—" I calmly tore the offer into pieces and threw it into the trash. "I dated Clarence Fraser for seven years." It was a relationship I once believed would end in marriage. I had just turned 18 when I met him. My mother had died young, and my father was a gambler who ended up in prison, leaving behind a mountain of debt. It was just my grandfather and me, and we were all the other had left in this world. The day the debt collectors came knocking, I fought them until I was bloody and bruised. And that was when Clarence appeared. With a cigarette between his lips, he paid off all my debts with a casual wave of his hand. His gaze when he looked at me was unreadable. "Want to come with me?" he asked. Though his voice was faint, my heart skipped a beat. Hence, I moved into the Fraser residence, and Grandpa got a new house. Clarence was a man of few words, and he never said he loved me. Yet he gave me only the best of everything. If my gaze so much as lingered on something for a fraction of a second longer, it would appear in my room the next day. He also skipped every date his family arranged for him. When someone humiliated me in public and slapped me, he took me by the hand and went to settle the score with them. "Tell me who did it. Point them out, and I'll deal with every single one of them." My heart raced wildly that day, and it was then that I fell hopelessly in love with him. After that, I began accompanying him to every business meeting, and when his stomach acted up, I would drink in his place. As time went on, I ended up with a perforated ulcer. But even that didn't stop me. I naively believed it would make Clarence care about me more. For seven whole years, I was the only woman by his side. That was, until Lynette Wyndham showed up. Like me, she was a journalist too. The day she appeared at the Fraser residence, Clarence's grip on my hand loosened. His movements slowed, and I clearly saw the determination in her eyes. Gradually, Clarence stopped coming home as often, and his replies got slower and slower. I stared at a screen full of messages I'd sent him. The only responses from him were the occasional "one" and the even rarer "two". It was a code we shared between us. One meant no, and two meant coming back for sex. I thought that he was just naturally slow to warm up and convinced myself that at least he loved me. Then, on my birthday, he finally sent me a two. I bought a cake and came home hoping to have a proper talk with him. Instead, I walked in on him and Lynette in my bedroom, stark naked and pressed tightly together. "Didn't you say you hated me and would never forgive me? Why are you so bold now? What about that little pet of yours? Aren't you worried she'd kick up a fuss? Who knows, she might even use a pregnancy to pressure you into marrying her," Lynette said. Clarence's voice was strained and laced with genuine emotions. "Her? Keeping her around is fine, but she's not fit to be a wife. If I'm going to marry anyone, it has to be someone like you." My hands shook uncontrollably as I pushed the door open. "Then what have you taken me for in the past few years that I'd been with you?" Clarence carefully draped a robe over Lynette and looked up slowly. "You scared her. Her clothes are dirty now. Go find something from your closet for her to change into." My steps were unsteady as I stumbled forward, holding onto the wall as I walked toward him. "Clarence, answer me. What have you taken me for in the past few years?" Lynette chuckled softly and nestled deeper into Clarence's arms. "Have you really lowered your standards so much while I was away? She has no manners, and frankly, her figure leaves a lot to be desired." "Yeah, she's nowhere as good as you," he said, stroking Lynette's cheek as he shot me an impatient look. "Well, what are you still standing here for? Get out. Lynette's staying here from now on. Don't you dare give her a hard time. Oh, and she's taken a liking to all the dresses in your closet, so they're hers now." I thrashed everything in the room in a rage before staggering out the door. But then, I ended up in his study, and there, I found a yellowed diary. One of the entries read, "Third year of loving Lynette. She got a boyfriend and says we're just friends." The next entry read, "She broke up with her boyfriend, but she still turned me down." Then, another entry said, "She went abroad. Her social media posts are full of other guys." Followed by one that said, "I met someone named Bethany Holmes. She looks a lot like Lynette." Finally, one of the entries read, "Beth says she wants to get married and have kids, but if it's not Lynette, then it just feels wrong." Wrong? Tears dripped onto the pages, smudging his handwriting. I trembled uncontrollably. So it turned out that he wasn't slow to warm up. He wasn't emotionally distant either. It was just that I reminded him of Lynette. All along, I had been nothing but a stand-in. Chapter 3 I couldn't stop sobbing, and my hands clenched tighter with each passing second. In the end, I tore the diary apart with all my strength and collapsed weakly onto the floor. Familiar footsteps sounded on the floorboards, and Clarence stood there with his shirt half open. "So you saw everything," he said calmly, as if I were the one who had done something wrong. I lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar, my eyes bloodshot. "Then what am I to you? Clarence, tell me—what was I to you, really?" Without a hint of remorse, he leaned back slightly and casually uttered, "A substitute." I felt as though a million ants were gnawing at my heart. Then, slowly releasing my grip on his collar, I laughed through tears. "Just a substitute, huh?" Clarence's gaze swept over me, and he swallowed dryly. "Now you know. Anyway, I won't be getting married in the next two years, so you can choose whether to stay or to leave. It's up to you. I won't interfere with your decision." A suffocating sensation filled my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. Then, I pushed myself up against the wall. My throat felt raw and aching. "Fine. I'm leaving." … After moving out of the Fraser residence, I took Grandpa to a hotel. I worked during the day and looked for a place to live at night. But the next day, I was plastered all over the trending page. "Famous Journalist Sells Her Body for Money—All Scoops From Sugar Daddies!" And alongside that headline were photos of my grandfather and me standing outside the hotel. As soon as I set foot into the office, my colleagues shot me strange looks. "I didn't—" I wanted to explain, but my colleagues just covered their mouths and snickered. My boss tore into me, and I was forced to issue a public apology and resign. I tried to clear my name using my personal account, but my posts were quickly drowned out by new composite photos of me with various men. Most of those intimate shots were fabricated from photos I had taken with Clarence in bed, and every article was credited to Lynette. I felt as if there were a rope tightening around my throat. Finally, unable to control my emotions any longer, I confronted Clarence. "Why were those photos leaked? And how did they get those photos? And why is Lynette listed as the journalist? You knew that was my grandfather and me! So why didn't you stop them from posting the photos?" Clarence pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly irritated. "Lynn saw the photos and used them without my knowledge. She finally achieved something and gained recognition from her superiors, so I didn't want to crush her confidence. It's not a big deal anyway. Once the commotion dies down, everything will be fine." "What do you mean it's not a big deal?" I shouted, slamming my hand down on the table so hard that water splashed from a glass. "Clarence, I lost my job, and my reputation is ruined! Do you have any idea how my colleagues see me now? How am I supposed to carry on in this industry?" "That's enough," Clarence cut me off with a frown. "Can you stop being so selfish? All you think about is yourself. Can't you think about Lynn for once? Do you really hate seeing her do well that much?" I was so livid that my breathing sped up. "She fabricated everything! She framed me! Can't you see that she's a person with no morals?" The next second, a slap landed sharply across my face. Clarence's gaze darkened. "Don't you dare talk about her like that. Bethany, you've lived well off me for years. What's a little hardship now?" Tasting the metallic tang of blood on the corner of my lips, I simply swallowed it. My head was still spinning. This was the first time he'd ever hit me in the seven years that we'd been together. "Just you wait, Clarence." After I left, I gathered evidence and reported Lynette for fabrication. But the moment I sent it out, all my accounts were forcibly taken offline. And then, I saw a post, which I'd never posted, coming from my account. "I sincerely apologize to my colleague, Ms. Lynette Wyndham. Driven by jealousy and envy, I deliberately caused her harm and distress. My conduct was disgraceful, and I proved myself unworthy of being a journalist. "I accept full responsibility for my actions and will withdraw from the journalism industry entirely. I welcome public scrutiny and will accept whatever criticism comes my way." Immediately after, I received a text message from Clarence. "If you do anything like that again, I'll make sure you do not survive in this city." From then on, Lynette took my place by his side. Using his influence, he helped her become the most famous journalist in just a few months. Whenever she was mentioned in public, he would smile and praise her for her own hard work. Yet back then, he had called me immature when I simply wanted to use his connections to interview someone. I closed my eyes, feeling a sting at the corners. I decided then and there that I would take Grandpa and leave this place for good. But I never expected to be cornered at the airport. Chapter 4 More and more people gathered around my grandfather and me. Some of them carried cameras, while others held microphones. They reached so far out that their hands almost brushed against my chest. A few even started livestreaming on the spot. "Look! There she is! It's that revolting journalist! They say she's slept with over 20 influential figures, and that she'd exploited interns into writing all her articles for her. Now she's trying to flee abroad." "No! I've never!" I shouted until my voice went hoarse as I desperately tried to push my way through. But the crowd suddenly surged forward in a frenzy, pressing in from all sides. They hurled whatever they had in their hands at us. "How disgusting! And she's actually thinking of escaping!" "And she even tried to bully Lynette! That's classic workplace harassment!" "Exactly. She's nothing but a stain on the journalism world. She should just get lost already!" The barrage of insults pressed down on me until I could barely breathe. Grandpa was shoved to the ground and trampled by a number of people. I screamed at the top of my lungs and tried to shield him. "Stop stepping on him! You're going to kill him!" But my cries fell on deaf ears. Trembling, I dialed Clarence's number. "Please! People are cornering me at the airport! Grandpa fell. Please hurry and save him!" Clarence's voice came through sounding impatient. "Stop lying. Why are you making things up? I hired those people to appease Lynn. I told them to make sure that they don't actually hurt you. "I'm just doing this to help Lynn let off some steam. Don't make a big deal out of it. Play along, and I'll send you money later." My heart sank into icy water. I cried and screamed, "But Grandpa is already on the ground! Clarence, do you even have a conscience?" I was still shouting, but the line went dead. Grandpa lay on the ground, convulsing. With shaking hands, I called an ambulance. … I felt faint the entire time I waited for the doctor to come out of the operating room. But the first thing he said when he stepped out was, "It's too late." My blood ran cold as I staggered toward the operating room in a daze. Grandpa's face was pale, as if he were merely asleep. I gently took his hand and said, "Grandpa, wake up. Please, won't you just wake up? We'll go home, okay? We'll go back and live in the alley. I'm sorry, Grandpa…" His skin was all wrinkly, and those hands would never ruffle my hair again. No one would ever grin and say they'd saved up money to buy me candy. No one would ever hold my hand and take me home anymore. I cried until I felt sick. After a long time, I used every last bit of money I had to buy Grandpa a burial plot. … On the day of the funeral, one million dollars was wired into my bank account. It was from Clarence. Then, after everything was over and done with, I booked a flight, wanting to leave this place for good. But the moment I turned around, a sack was thrown over my head. My hands and feet were bound, and clubs rained down on me mercilessly. I heard Lynette's shrill voice screaming, "Beat her up! Beat her up well! Don't you dare think that I don't know that you're still trying to seduce Clarence! How dare he transfer money to you behind my back? How shameless can you get?" I tried to explain in a daze, but everything went black, and I collapsed. When I regained consciousness, I heard voices through the haze. "Mr. Fraser, we've cleaned up all the evidence pointing to Ms. Wyndham. But they went too hard. Ms. Holmes has several broken ribs." Clarence's voice was low. "Alright. Just make sure that everything's handled cleanly. Lynn only did that to Bethany because she cares about me. This isn't entirely Lynn's fault. As for Bethany, arrange for her to get proper treatment. Make sure there are no lasting complications." "Yes, Mr. Fraser," Clarence's assistant answered. "And about Ms. Holmes' pregnancy…" There was a long stretch of silence before Clarence spoke up again. "Get rid of it. It's not a big deal. If it's gone, it's gone. Lynn finally agreed to marry me. I can't afford to have anything go wrong. Keep an eye on Bethany. Make sure she doesn't cause trouble." "Got it." As the footsteps faded away, I caressed my lower abdomen. Tears soaked through the pillow. In the days that followed, I went mad hurting myself, swallowing pills, and screaming to see him. I was saved again and again, and my stomach was pumped repeatedly. But he never showed up. On the day I was wheeled into the operating room, Clarence was having his wedding with Lynette. But he was wrong about things. This time, I didn't make a scene. I just quietly disappeared from his world completely. Bearing all those wounds, I closed the door on the seven years we shared between us. … "Bethany." A voice at the door pulled me back to the present. It was Clarence. I slung my towel over my shoulder and put on a smile. "Hello, sir. How were the fruits yesterday? Do you need some more? We've got other fresh fruits today too." "Why won't you come to my company?" Clarence didn't look pleased. "A common person like me wouldn't fit in," I said, carrying on with the work in my hands. Clarence suddenly grabbed my arm. "Bethany, look at me. You're a well-educated person who's published so many articles. Are you really content to stay here hauling fruit? "You weren't like this before. You had ambition, you wanted to go further, to stand on international platforms. It was never your dream to become some shrewd, calculating vendor." I paused for a moment before calmly pulling my arm free from his grasp. "At least here, I'm not anyone's substitute." Clarence's grip on me loosened abruptly, and he was rendered speechless for a long while. "Bethany, if you come back, I promise you won't be—" Before he could finish, two children suddenly burst through the door. Both of them had features that looked strikingly like mine. Clarence's eyes widened, and his face went pale as he stumbled backward.