Chapter 5

Early the next morning, Gilbert asked me to meet at a café.

When he saw me again, his eyes showed no surprise.

"Mason, I recognized you at first glance yesterday at the company."

I froze.

The next moment, he calmly explained: "Before marrying Summer, I knew about you. In our circle, women keeping male lovers on the side isn't unusual. Summer's been quite restrained—you're her only one."

I immediately objected: "I'm not a lover!"

"Your status doesn't really matter."

Gilbert gave a cold laugh, handing me the latest prenatal report.

"Summer's already pregnant. Our two families will have descendants. I wasn't planning to deal with you, but you made it to trending topics. I had no choice."

He pushed over a confidentiality agreement and a blank check.

"Sign this agreement, record an apology video, leave Harbor City in two days. Fill in whatever amount you want."

I pushed the items back, standing to leave, but Gilbert stopped me.

"Mason, you can't survive in Harbor City. If you change your mind, come find me anytime."

Gilbert was right.

That morning alone, I brought my resume to several companies. The HR reps shook their heads after seeing my information.

The reason for rejection: poor character, damages company image.

Some mocked me directly: "Why look for work when you're a homewrecker? Just find another sugar mama."

Photos of me going to companies for interviews got posted online. Someone directly tagged Summer's social media account.

The next second, Summer called.

"Mason, how long will you keep embarrassing yourself? I offered you a job and you refused. Now you're out there making yourself a laughingstock. Stop this, okay?"

"Summer, do you also see me as a homewrecker?"

Harbor City's cold wind cut like knives across my skin.

Summer fell silent for a long time.

"Mason, I..."

I didn't want to hear her explanations. I hung up.

A few minutes later, my phone vibrated again.

On the other end, Mom's heartbroken sobs came through.

"Mason! How could I give birth to a son like you? Being someone's kept man for seven years!"

"Your father had a heart attack from the stress. The surgery costs five hundred thousand. Where does our family have that kind of money..."

Thud—a snowball hit hard against my head.

Two kids pointed at me shouting: "Kept man! Hit the kept man!"

Snowballs pelted me one after another. They ran away laughing, turning back to make faces at me.

I knelt in the snow, tears falling onto my phone screen.

With trembling hands, I dialed that number.

The man's mocking laugh came through the receiver: "Made up your mind so quickly?"

My voice hoarse, I said: "I agree."