The Rain That Night, Like a Sweet Dream Unfolding Chapter 1

Transported into a novel, I stood by devoted second lead Asher Shen from nothing to tech mogul. When his old flame Celeste returned, he asked for a divorce, just as the plot foretold. But she immediately betrayed him, leaking secrets and draining his accounts before vanishing.

I didn't sign the papers. Instead, I comforted him. Grateful, he swore to build a better life. Five years later, his new company went public with Celeste, now a star, by his side. The media cheered.

I smiled from the audience. The first time he betrayed me, I got the "Comeback Kingmaker" system. My task: stay until his company listed. My reward: freedom and all the money. His comeback was 98% complete. This time, I was leaving him with nothing.

* * *

As Asher’s company soared, so did my status in the high-society circles. Every woman envied me, whispering that I had placed the winning bet.

Five years ago, we were the city’s most notoriously miserable couple, him pressuring me relentlessly for a divorce. But when his company collapsed and he was left broken and bankrupt, I was the bigger person. I became the loyal wife who helped him rise from the ashes.

They all said my patience had finally paid off.

But I knew something was wrong.

Asher was in love again.

We knew each other too well. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, I saw the signs. He used to come home right on time, but lately, he’d linger in his car in the driveway, chain-smoking, the exhaustion etched on his face. When he finally came inside, silence hung heavy between us.

I used to pick out all his clothes—a monochrome sea of black, white, and gray. Suddenly, he started having his assistant buy them. He wore a lot of cyan these days.

It was Celeste’s favorite color. His old flame.

And on her birthday, the lights in his office building burned all through the night.

I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

It wasn't until today, at an alumni gala Asher dragged me to, that my suspicions were confirmed. There she was, standing right in front of me: Celeste.

She smiled, extending a hand as if she’d never betrayed him, never left him for dead.

Asher’s gaze was ice. He stared her down, sharp and unforgiving, and made no move to shake her hand.

But I knew better. The moment he saw her, his grip on my wrist tightened, a tremor running up his arm.

I kept my smile perfectly in place and patted the back of his hand.

“Celeste, dear. It’s been five years since you stole the Shen family’s trade secrets and helped his rivals short his company into the ground.”

My words were a jab at her, but they were also a reminder for Asher. Whatever dalliances he had in private, he had to maintain a respectable front in public.

As if waking from a trance, he wrapped an arm around my waist and steered me away.

That night, a video of Celeste’s interview went viral. The reporter asked why she had suddenly returned to the spotlight after years of silence.

Celeste looked into the camera, tears streaming down her face like a tragic heroine.

“I was young and foolish,” she choked out. “I hurt the man who loved me, and now… I just want to win him back.”

Her eyes pleaded. “Asher, can you ever forgive me?”

The story exploded. A beautiful, disgraced actress and a resurrected tech titan.

Asher was furious. He immediately got his PR team on the phone, ready to issue a statement denying any connection to her. His face was flushed with a rage I hadn’t seen in all our years of marriage. When the PR head asked if they should sue Celeste for slander, Asher’s fury faltered.

I watched him, knowing exactly what he would say. His eyes darted away. After a moment of hesitation, he shook his head.

“I just don’t want to be associated with her,” he explained to me, his voice tight.

I nodded with a placid smile, adding a silent footnote in my head: You’re afraid a lawsuit would ruin her career.

What a pair we were. Two people, each with our own secrets, politely refusing to expose the other. When we first married, my love for him had bordered on madness. Now, watching him was like watching a play—a distant, passionless affair.

But no one could have predicted how truly insane Celeste was.

She came for us on the bay bridge, her car hurtling toward us in the wrong lane. I was in the passenger seat.

If Asher swerved, we’d be fine. But Celeste would crash through the guardrail and plunge into the cold, dark water below. No chance of survival.

If he didn’t swerve, we would all be hurt.

His eyes locked with hers, a deep, mesmerizing gaze, as if they were the only two people in the world. A pair of star-crossed lovers, locked in a trance of love and hate.

And there I was, the villain in their drama.

Because I was the one slapping his face, screaming at him to swerve, clawing for the steering wheel.

The world erupted in a deafening crunch of metal as the cars collided, twisting together in a grotesque embrace.

Dazed, Asher stumbled out of our car, his hands trembling as he checked on Celeste.

Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she leaned against him. She shot me a look over his shoulder, a triumphant smirk on her face, and mouthed two words.

“I. Win.”

It took me a long moment to pull myself from the wreckage. A deep, pulling pain started in my lower abdomen.

“Asher… help me…” I called out weakly.

He snapped back to reality and rushed over, scooping me into his arms.

My consciousness began to fade. In the wailing ambulance, I could vaguely hear him calling me his wife, begging me not to leave him. I felt the warmth of his tears landing on my forehead.

How cliché, I thought, and let the darkness take me.

When I woke up, I was greeted with two pieces of news.

First, I was two months pregnant.

Second, the system notified me that Asher’s comeback was at 98%. I would be going home very, very soon.