Her Second Sun

Scrolling through my phone during lunch break, a trending topic suddenly popped up. "Is it wrong to fall in love with a married man?" The moment I clicked in, the flood of comments almost overflowed the screen. Some scolded the questioner for twisted values, saying destroying someone else's family is unforgivable. Others argued that feelings can't be controlled, and the real fault lies with the cheating husband. Arguments erupted repeatedly until a long comment was pushed to the top. The comment said she was once an intern, who received a lot of care from the boss and his wife when she first started working. The boss's wife was gentle and kind, like an older sister to her. To be with the boss, she plotted to make his wife slip up badly at work. The boss's wife got fired by the company, and the boss got dragged into it too. In the end, she naturally ended up by the boss's side, living a blissful life now. The pride and arrogance dripping between the lines stabbed into my eyes like a razor-sharp needle. My fingers clutching the phone went pale, eyes locked on the comment signed—Victoria Lowell. That name—I thought I'd long buried it in the wreckage of time. But right now, it burns with malice, dragging me straight back to that rainy summer three years ago. Three years ago, I was still the head of planning at HT Group, and Ryan Sterling was my husband and the company's project director. That day, Ryan came home from work, followed by a timid young girl. "Stella, this is the new intern Victoria Lowell. She's assigned to our department—please look after her." Victoria wore faded white canvas shoes, had her hair tied in a low ponytail, and smiled with innocent freshness. "Hello, Ms. Xavier. I'm looking forward to working with you." Her eyes were as pure as a mountain spring, instantly putting me at ease. At that time, Ryan Sterling and I had been married for just two years, and I was at the peak of my career, always busy beyond measure. Victoria Lowell's presence was like a breath of fresh air, bringing some much-needed vitality to my dull life. She was sweet, always calling out, "Stella, Stella," and every morning she'd bring me a cup of hot soy milk. Whenever I worked overtime, she would quietly stay behind with me, helping to organize files and print materials. She'd share funny stories from school with me and genuinely listen to my workplace troubles. It wasn't long before we became inseparable best friends who shared everything. I treated her like a real little sister, teaching her work skills without holding anything back, even giving her the spare key to my place so she could help look after the plants now and then. I told her about my love story with Ryan Sterling—how we went from the college campus to the workplace, and how hard it had been all the way. She always listened with rapt attention, her eyes swimming with envy. "Stella, you and Mr. Sterling are truly made for each other. I want a boyfriend like that someday." Back then, I foolishly believed it. Looking back now, everything was a warning from the start. Victoria always loved wearing clothes like mine and using the same perfume. She would subtly pry for details about how Ryan and I got along, even deliberately mimicking my tone and habits. Once, at a company dinner, she got drunk, clinging to Ryan's arm and refusing to let go, mumbling "Ryan" under her breath. At the time, I felt a little uneasy, but Ryan Sterling said she was young and naive, so I didn't think much of it. Now I realize, it wasn't naivety at all—it was outright provocation.