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My Simple Bliss, Our Separate Ways Novel Cover

My Simple Bliss, Our Separate Ways

For seven years, Hazel lived as the hidden lover of the elite Luke Smith, enduring his affection while knowing he deemed her social status insufficient for marriage. When Luke's noble-born wife proves unable to conceive, public scrutiny falls on Hazel and a mysterious child at a funeral. Choosing to reclaim her dignity, Hazel denies knowing Luke to the media, wishing him a happy life. Her public rejection sends a distraught Luke on a desperate journey to find her.
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Chapter 2

"Fate" has always been predestined, much like when I was fifteen, sitting by the window shaded by locust trees, admiring the graceful dance of the neighbor. Never did I think that one day, I would become a renowned female celebrity.

Similarly, when I first met Luke, his pair of lonely and indifferent eyes drew me in. Little did I imagine that one day, our lives would become intertwined, filled with complexity and twists.

In the summer of 2008, there was an unparalleled sense of excitement and bustle. During that time, people were living in comfort and contentment, blissfully unaware of the looming financial crisis. They also had no inkling that, a year later, the global financial crisis would sweep through, indiscriminately affecting every resident in the global village.

During that year, I was a twenty-year-old college student, still fresh and inexperienced. In addition to my studies, I took on part-time work as a background actor in film and television, as well as modeling for print advertisements. It was during this tumultuous and unique period that Luke's path crossed with mine.

On my fourth visit to the media company, where I requested payment for two outstanding projects, the person in charge drenched me from head to toe with a glass of water.

"I've told you countless times, we don't have any money. Not a dime. We haven't even recovered our expenses, so how can we afford to pay your salary!"

In society, there's no time for your growth; it only waits for the perfect moment to deliver a crushing blow, leaving your bones and veins entwined in agony. Then it announces to the world, welcoming you to the "hell" of society.

Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably. In a moment of desperation, I confided in the person in charge, explaining that my mother was in the hospital and we needed money. I hoped he'd be compassionate and lend a hand.

The person in charge nonchalantly pointed across the street, saying, "If you want to make quick money, go sell yourself over there. You can earn tens of thousands in a day. Don't bother me!"

At the tender age of twenty, I came to understand that tears were the most useless weapon of vulnerability.

I was shoved and tumbled out through the glass door by the person in charge, landing in a heap on the steps. At that moment, a clear and soothing voice drifted gently toward me.

"An adult like you, picking on a young girl. How utterly shameless."

The man had fair skin, and his arm blocked the glass door, preventing my hand from being caught. His long, bright eyes scanned me with a casual air, as if he had just concluded a meeting and still carried the weariness of work. He lazily propped his foot against the door and looked at the person in charge with nonchalance.

Back then, I was still quite naive and couldn't distinguish luxury brands. I had no clue that the logo on his belt could cover several years' worth of my tuition fees.

"Hand over the money."

He uttered only four words, dripping with icy disdain.

The person in charge, as if recognizing him, cowered like a turtle, offering profuse apologies. I counted my hard-earned wages, not a substantial sum but sufficient to help us during this tough period. With a lowered head, I softly uttered, "Thank you."

The harsh sunlight softened its glare on his face, revealing his features more clearly – a face with sharp angles, well-defined jawlines, and a pair of captivating deep-set eyes. I couldn't help but inquire, "Are you an actor as well?"

My question seemed to amuse him, as a faint smile played upon his lips. He countered, "Are you an actress?"

"No, I'm studying to become a director. Right now, I'm just doing part-time work."

"I see..." He lit a cigarette, and the crimson tip gradually drew closer to his fingertips as it burned. He remarked, "This media company is teetering on the brink of bankruptcy. Next time you take up a part-time gig, do some background checks. Don't let them dupe you again."

At the age of twenty, in a brief and striking moment, he entered my life like a sudden savior. Life back then was remarkably uncomplicated, so much so that I overlooked the complexities of love. My energy was largely consumed by the demands of education and the everyday grind. In retrospect, during that period, Luke Smith always stood out as someone extraordinary.

Unfortunately, at that time, I was so naive that I thought the world only consisted of the rich and the poor. By the time I truly understood the constraints of social classes, I had already been entangled with him for several years.

However, during those years, I was at the height of my pride, viewing any advice or caution as poisonous. I remained resolute in my belief that we had a future together. As for what followed, I stumbled and fell, eventually finding myself on my knees, beseeching the heavens for forgiveness.

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