The Girl Who Stole My Life

Today is the seventh anniversary of my marriage to Jonas Lowell. I had prepared his favorite pork rib soup in advance and waited for him in the living room. When I heard the door lock turn, I hurried to greet him. But the moment the door opened, I froze. Beside Jonas stood a girl, no more than seventeen or eighteen years old. She wore a white dress, her hair tied in a low ponytail, and the expression in her eyes made my heart tighten. It was the very same look I often had when I was seventeen. Jonas held the girl's hand as they came in, a smile on his face—one I hadn't seen in a long time. "Leah, this is Sarah," he said, pointing to the girl as he introduced her, his tone filled with unmistakable tenderness. "Look at her—isn't she just like you when you were young?" Sarah timidly looked at me and quietly said, "Hello, Leah." I opened my mouth but couldn't speak a word. Jonas Lowell seemed oblivious to my strange reaction and continued, "The first time I saw Sarah, I felt she was another you from a parallel universe." "That kind of innocence, that pure feeling—it's exactly like you at seventeen." His words pierced my heart like a needle. I turned to go to the kitchen for some soup, but my steps felt unsteady. When my hand touched the glass on the coffee table, I failed to grasp it firmly. "Clang!" The glass shattered on the floor, fragments scattering everywhere. Hot water splashed onto my pants, sending a sharp sting through me. I crouched down, trying to pick up the broken shards. Jonas Lowell finally came over, but instead of helping me, he pulled Sarah aside and asked worriedly, "Sarah, did you get burned?" Sarah shook her head and said, "I'm fine, Jonas." Jonas Lowell finally looked at me, his brows furrowing. "Leah, how could you be so careless?" He handed me a tissue, his tone completely devoid of concern, filled only with reproach. I took the tissue and wiped the water stains from my trouser legs. A flood of resentment surged in my heart, and my eyes instantly grew red. Jonas Lowell ignored me and turned to Sarah. "Sarah, I'll take you to see your room; it's just next to the guest room. I've already tidied it up." The two walked side by side toward the guest room, leaving me crouched alone among the scattered shards on the floor. The sky outside gradually darkened, and the light in the living room felt cold and desolate. I watched their backs and, for the first time, felt that this home no longer belonged to me.