For seven years, apart from living in the same house, we were no better than strangers.
But I didn't blame him, because I was the one who betrayed him first.
We were each other's first love, and I pursued Wilson first during college.
It was a cliched story. I got his favor and we became a couple, but my father disapproved of me being with a poor guy.
I had a falling out with my family over Wilson, believing that love could conquer all.
Until my father's threats and Wilson's decision to give up his chance to study abroad...
I knew we were about to part ways.
I thought of myself as the tragic heroine in a drama, hiding my troubles and humiliating Wilson with my self-righteousness.
I let him leave and went abroad with hatred.
Years later, while my family had fallen into obscurity, Wilson had risen to prominence.
When Wilson, now incredibly wealthy, appeared before me, my first thought was not joy but fear. I feared he might still hate me.
Yet Wilson proposed to me. While I hesitated, my father impatiently agreed.
At that moment, I even wondered if Wilson knew all the hidden truths from our past. We went to the Family Court to get married, and I smiled brightly.