100 Pranks from My Boyfriend, All for His First Love

Harvey’s expression tensed for just a moment.

Zoey noticed. She leaned in gently and asked, “Are you feeling okay?”

He gave a subtle shake of his head, but before he could answer, the creditor beside him scoffed with disdain.

“It’s gotta be that woman, Sarah,” the man said, voice edged with contempt. “Always feeding Mr. Jameson God-knows-what.”

The creditor snorted, then added with a twisted admiration, “Good thing Mr. Jameson thought ahead. Pretended to be emotionally unstable, smashed a few dishes. Gave him an excuse to avoid her food. Though somehow, he still ended up eating a lot.”

The creditor tsked, shaking his head. “That woman’s up to no good.”

'Up to no good?' Sarah let out a bitter, silent laugh.

When Harvey first got sick, she’d run all over the city looking for hospitals that would take him. She could barely afford to feed herself, but never skipped a day buying his medication.

Later, when they were both living in that drafty, leaking shipping container on the grape vineyard, she survived on scraps of burnt loaves soaked in cold water.

Vegetables were a rare luxury. And whenever Sarah managed to get her hands on a few drops of oil or a scrap of meat, it always went into Harvey’s bowl. Always.

Harvey never knew that she would get on her knees and eat the leftovers straight off the floor whenever he smashed a bowl or plate during one of his outbursts. She was careful not to waste a single drop.

Now, that food was being dismissed as 'God-knows-what.'

A wave of exhaustion hit her so deeply that it felt like it reached her bones.

With that, Sarah didn’t spare the group another glance. She just turned and walked away, returning to the estate alone.

After her grandmother passed, Sarah was taken in by the Stevens family, which, on paper, made Zoey her sister. Her grandmother had said the Stevens were distant relatives and they would look after her.

And in a way, they did.

But there was never warmth. Never affection. Just an obligation.

The Stevens treated her as if she were invisible.

Conversely, Zoey seized every opportunity to torment her. Things only began to change when Sarah’s talent for design started to emerge. Even then, her position in the house hardly improved. At best, she was the one doing Zoey’s work.

Sarah had truly believed Harvey was the only light left in her life after her grandmother died.

He stated that he had fallen for her at first sight, was serious, and that she was the one.

Young love was like this—messy, intense, fast, and burned bright. She’d fallen hard.

And even after he lost everything, Sarah had stayed.

She never thought the truth would be this cruel.

So cruel that now, curled up inside the same rusting shipping container that had once been her safe place, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

But sorrow didn’t keep her company for long.

As she wiped her face, her fingers brushed against a folded sheet of paper tucked in the corner of a drawer.

She unfolded it slowly.

Harvey’s handwriting stared back at her.

[Lie to Sarah about the debt.]

[Make Sarah do illegal labor at the vineyard.]

[Pretend to be sick so Sarah has to search for medicine all night and still work the next day.]

[Set up snake traps along Sarah’s path down the vineyard hill.]

Ninety-seven entries in total. Harvey’s full prank list.

She stared at it, forcing herself to read each one like punishment.

Every night, she sat beside him, consumed with worry for his health.

Every day, she forced herself to traverse the city for medicine whenever he coughed.

Yet, all of it was merely part of a game.

Only three pranks remained on the paper for Harvey to keep his promise to Zoey. It was overwhelming her.

Then, Sarah remembered that Harvey had always told her not to touch his things in this tiny container.

Maybe he hadn’t even bothered to hide the list. Maybe he just assumed she’d never dare look.

Her fingers stopped at number eighty-five.

[Pretend to be seriously ill and on the brink of death. Mix the land transfer agreement for her grandmother’s grave into a surgical consent form and trick her into signing it.]

Sarah’s vision tilted.

She remembered that day.

Harvey had been fine. Then suddenly, he collapsed.

At the hospital, the doctor said his condition was critical.

She had panicked. Hands trembling, vision blurry, she’d signed the forms pushed in front of her without reading. She was too scared that even a moment’s hesitation might cost him his life.

She had no idea it was all planned. Staged.

While she ran around, begging for money, terrified he might not make it through surgery, Harvey had been using his own life as leverage to trick her into signing over the land her grandmother was buried on.

Her chest clenched so tightly she could barely breathe. It was like someone had dropped a lead weight on her lungs.

She couldn’t let her grandmother be disturbed. Not even in death.

Her grandmother had been her whole world, and she was the only one who truly loved her. Even when illness had drained her body, she still found the strength to go to the Stevens family and beg them to take Sarah in.

And now, even her resting place had been violated. How could she allow her peace to be disturbed after death?

Sarah sat there, her breath shallow, the paper trembling in her hands.

It was like waking up from the worst dream of her life. Only this wasn’t a dream.

She pulled herself together, changed her clothes, and ran out the door.

It hadn’t been that long since it happened.

Maybe… maybe she still had a chance to plead.