Chapter 1 Rebirth

The day the hospital gave me a critical condition notice was also the day my ex-wife and her prince charming held their wedding.

When we got married, she couldn't wait to hide our relationship from the world. But when it came to marrying her prince charming, she wanted the entire universe to know.

I clung to the last bit of strength and called her a few times. I hope she would at least come to claim my body. However, she ignored my every call, and even blocked my number.

Pain, as sharp as knives, tore through me. I laughed bitterly.

"Three years of marriage, and this is all I'm worth to you…"

By noon, her grand wedding with her prince charming had gone on as planned, and it was a celebration fit for the ages.

Meanwhile, I died alone in the emergency room, the beeping of medical instruments fading into silence around me.

…

In the chaos of nothingness, I suddenly heard the voice of my cousin, Jackson Lambert.

"Owen! Owen, wake up!"

My eyes shot open, the suffocating pain still lingering in my body. I turned my head and saw Jackson standing by the bed, looking annoyed.

"Owen, if you're feeling even a little better, you should head home. Today's your wedding anniversary with Eve! I even bought all the ingredients for you. Hurry home and bake her a cake. You know how much she loves sweets—it'll make her day."

Watching Jackson happily plot out the perfect celebration, I hesitated, then picked up my phone.

The year was 2024.

I had been reborn!

It was no wonder everything felt so familiar. On this day in my previous life, Jackson and I were shopping for supplies to celebrate my first wedding anniversary with my wife, Yvette Jenning. However, I collapsed in the mall from a severe stomach ache and was rushed to the hospital.

The hospital staff called Yvette, but she never came.

Back then, I brushed it off, understanding that she was busy with her company as it had just gone public. After I got discharged, I went home, made a cake, and waited with a smile.

But she never showed, not even after midnight.

I took a deep breath, and my gaze hardened.

I refused to grovel this time. I would leave her quickly and wish her and her prince charming a lifetime of happiness.

Still, I decided to head home. I didn't do it for Yvette, but because I hated hospitals.

In my past life, I died of stomach cancer. The endless rounds of chemo and radiation had drained me of everything, leaving me to rot in a hospital bed. Now, even the sterile smell of a hospital made me nauseous.

Jackson was oblivious to the storm brewing in my mind, and he kept rattling off Yvette's favorite cake flavors. He acted as if he knew her better than I did. I listened quietly, not saying a word.

Suddenly, a strikingly handsome doctor walked toward us. He was talking to a patient dressed in hospital clothes. He had an aloof expression, but his voice carried a calm warmth.

My eyes widened, and I froze, staring at him.

It was him—Yvette's prince charming that she had yearned for many years.

Randall Caldwell.

In my past life, I had only seen him in photos. But in person, he looked even more extraordinary. He had an air of approachable elegance, like an unattainable treasure.

It was no wonder Yvette had been obsessed with him for years and was willing to stop at nothing to make him hers.

As Yvette's husband, Randall would get everything he should receive, and even beyond that. He would be without the slightest neglect. If there was anything he couldn't get, it would be the position of being Yvette's lawful wedded husband.

I always believed that as long as we stayed married, Yvette would eventually turn her attention to me.

I truly loved Yvette. For her, I gave up my career to become a househusband. I centered my life around her and helped her with anything she needed.

There was even a time when I put a knife to my neck to stop her from leaving, hoping to force her to stay.

Her response? A look of utter disdain.

"Owen Yates, if you really die, I promise I'll throw you a spectacular funeral."

She sneered, then slipped on her designer heels and walked out of our home without looking back. I collapsed on the floor, unable to hold back my tears.

In my despair, I picked up the knife again. However, instead of slashing my neck, I slit my wrists.

That way, it would take longer for me to die.

I held onto a sliver of hope.

What if she hadn't gone far and would be back soon? What if seeing me hurt made her feel guilty enough to finally care about me?

If she came back, I would forgive everything she did before and dedicate the rest of my life to making her happy.

After a while, I passed out from blood loss. When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Elated, I asked the nurse if it was my wife who had brought me here.

The nurse shook her head. It was the housekeeper who had called for help.

Yvette hadn't even come home.

The same day, the doctors diagnosed me with late-stage stomach cancer. Not long after, I died a miserable death in the hospital.

…

"Owen! Why are you spacing out? Hurry up! Eve's going to get off work soon!"

Jackson's voice snapped me out of my painful memories. I blinked, realizing that Randall had already walked away, leaving only Jackson looking at me with frustration.

"Jackson, are you really trying to help me?" I asked calmly.

He froze for a moment, then puffed out his chest. "Of course!"

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly inside as I looked at his slightly immature face.

Help me?

If he truly cared about me as his older cousin, he wouldn't have pushed me to bake a cake when I wasn't feeling well. He knew perfectly well that no cake would ever catch Yvette's attention.

Jackson also had feelings for Yvette.

No matter how badly she treated me, Yvette was still CEO of a publicly listed company and a famous female entrepreneur featured in the rankings of the richest people in the world. She was also a breathtakingly beautiful woman.

Why wouldn't Jackson want to take my place?

I was nothing more than a convenient excuse for him to talk to Yvette. I knew this in my past life, but for the sake of our family ties, I chose to ignore it.

This time, I didn't care about maintaining appearances or tolerating anyone. I was done playing nice!

I yanked my arm out of Jackson's grip, a cold and indifferent look on my face.

"She's not coming home tonight, and I'm not baking any cake. Don't bother helping me. Just go do whatever you need to do."

Jackson stared at me in shock and disbelief. "What's gotten into you, Owen? Why are you suddenly so angry?"

My father used to tell me that those who are older should always give way to those who are younger. Because of that, I had always been patient with Jackson. I even cleaned up his messes countless times.

But now, as I looked at him, I smirked.

"Angry? My stomach hurts, and you're here nagging me to bake a cake. Anyone who didn't know better might think you're the one desperate to celebrate my wedding anniversary."

Jackson paled instantly, and a flicker of guilt flashed in his eyes. Still, he remained stubborn and said, "Why would you say something so harsh? I just wanted to have a slice of your cake, that's all. But if you're not feeling well, I'll leave. No need to overthink it."

With that, he turned on his heel with a dark expression and left.

I didn't bother responding. To me, he was nothing more than a clown, incapable of doing me any real harm.

I dragged my weak body back to the empty luxurious villa, and I was hit with a familiar sense of loneliness. In our first year of marriage, I hadn't hired any housekeepers because I wanted to enjoy the intimacy of just the two of us.

Unexpectedly, Yvette was rarely home, and I was alone in the massive house most of the time. Naturally, there was now no one around to cook for me.

I pushed myself to make a simple bowl of chicken soup. As I ate, the warmth finally eased the ache in my stomach.

In my previous life, I couldn't stomach anything once my illness took hold. Now, even a simple bowl of chicken soup carried a rich aroma.

I sighed deeply. "Just being healthy feels like such a blessing."

Women only slowed me down. Since the heavens had given me a second chance, I would make the most of it. I wasn't about to repeat my mistakes.

After finishing my meal, I stood up to clean the dishes. But suddenly, the crisp sound of high heels against the floor echoed clearly through the empty villa.

Then came the unmistakable scent of Yvette's signature, bold perfume.

I turned, stunned to see her cold, elegant face staring back at me.

Yvette?

In my previous life, she hadn't come home that night. So why was she here suddenly?

Chapter 2 Yvette Is Home

"Why are you here?" I asked, startled.

For some reason, I didn't feel the overwhelming hatred or resentment I thought I would when I saw her standing there. I also didn't feel the obsessive love I once had for her in my past life.

Instead, all I felt was peace.

It had been so long since I had seen the real Yvette. She looked exactly as I remembered—radiant and youthful. She could have stood next to the most famous actresses and still outshone them effortlessly.

It wasn't surprising that she had captivated me and driven me mad with longing.

Even after dying once, I couldn't deny that I still appreciated her beauty. But my heart no longer stirred, not even a little.

Yvette's gaze swept over me, then shifted to the empty dishes on the table. A flicker of displeasure flashed in her bright eyes before she strode toward me, her steps carrying an air of suffocating authority.

My chest tightened, and I instinctively took a few steps backward, my gaze wary. I was taller than her, even with her in heels. Even so, it felt like I was the one looking up at her.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

I knew it was only our first year of marriage, and Yvette hadn't yet realized how deeply she loved Randall. I hadn't done anything wrong, so she wouldn't go out of her way to make things hard for me.

But as I retreated, I realized that I couldn't stop myself from wanting to keep my distance from her. After deciding to let her go, I no longer craved her attention. In fact, I found myself resisting it.

Yvette's perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed for a moment, confusion flashing in her eyes. Then, just as quickly, her lips curved into a mocking smile.

"Owen, you went through all this trouble to trick me into coming back, and now you're acting like this? Who are you trying to fool?"

I was confused. "What are you talking about?"

Tricked her? If anything, I wished she would stay away forever.

My answer made her frown deepen, and she reached up to grab the collar of my shirt. Her stunning eyes turned cold, and her breath brushed against my face as she spat, "Don't play dumb. Didn't you plan this with your cousin? He told me you were at death's door and forced me to come back to see you."

A suffocating feeling washed over me, and pain shot through my neck as I instinctively shoved her away.

"I didn't plan anything with him! I had no idea about any of this. He must have acted on his own."

In my past life, I loved Yvette so pathetically. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries—I never once demanded she come home and celebrate any of those days with me.

And after dying once, I definitely wasn't going to start now.

Yvette sneered. "You and your cousin are practically joined at the hip. Are you seriously going to claim you didn't know what he was up to?"

As I looked at her annoyed expression and the impatient glint in her eyes, I couldn't help the bitter, mocking smile that spread on my lips.

It wasn't aimed at her but at myself.

In my past life, our relationship had started off polite and distant. She ignored me, using cold indifference as her weapon of choice.

And me? I bent over backward trying to thaw her frozen heart.

When I finally found out she loved someone else, I resorted to every desperate trick I could think of to keep her. But the more I tried, the more she loathed me.

I used to convince myself that it was my fault, that I did something to make her dislike me. But I hadn't done anything in this life. All I did was come home on our anniversary with a stomach ache and have a bowl of chicken soup.

Yet, she still looked at me with contempt and disdain.

It was clear now that she didn't hate me because of anything I did. She simply hated me because she couldn't stand me.

I straightened up and looked down slightly to meet her gaze. Then, I said, "Yvette, let's get a divorce."

Yvette froze at my words. She looked genuinely caught off guard for a moment before a derisive smirk crept across her refined face.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?"

Of course I did. If I had a choice, I would have preferred to be reborn before we got married.

I glanced down at the calluses on my palms. Because I loved her, I willingly gave up the future of inheriting my family's business. I became a househusband and revolved my entire life around her.

After all the self-sacrifice and devotion… it turned out that I was the only one who had feelings in this relationship.

"This was a marriage of convenience. I know you don't like me, so why don't we set each other free? Isn't that better for both of us?"

Her expression darkened, and a rare look of fury cut through her usual icy demeanor.

"You're unbelievable. You were the one who groveled in front of Grandpa and begged for this marriage. You said all sorts of nonsense until I had no choice but to marry you, and now you're asking for a divorce just because you want to?

"What do you take me for? Do you think I'm some kind of toy you can toss aside whenever you feel like it?"

She took a step forward, forcing me to look her in the eye.

My heart skipped a beat.

Even though our marriage was arranged, my family was far beneath hers in terms of wealth and status. If it hadn't been for our grandfathers arranging a childhood engagement between us, I wouldn't have even had the right to ask for her hand.

Yvette had resisted the arranged marriage from the very start. If her grandfather, Alex Jenning, hadn't been seriously ill and forced her to marry me, she never would have agreed to become my wife.

Now that I was proposing divorce, I was undoubtedly testing her limits.

"I've never thought of you that way. I'm serious. I've met the guy you like. That doctor is handsome and has a great presence. Sure, his family background isn't as good as ours, but if I willingly step aside, you won't have to worry about dealing with your family. You'll be free to pursue him openly."

Randall would soon be leaving the country. Once he was gone, Yvette would realize how deeply she loved him and how it was impossible for her to let him go. She wouldn't stop chasing him and miss out on this chance.

And I, the tragic second male lead straight out of a cliché drama, couldn't repeat my past mistakes. I wouldn't cling onto her or sabotage things just to force her to notice me. This time, I would bow out before the drama even began.

That was the only way I could avoid the heartbreak and humiliation of my last life.

Yvette's expression turned stormy, and she looked panicked. "You've met him? That explains why you've been acting so differently lately. And you've even looked into his family background? What, are you planning to use him to threaten me?"

She stepped closer, every step purposeful and suffocating. My heart pounded as I instinctively backed away until my back hit the wall and there was nowhere for me to go.

She thought I was trying to use her prince charming against her? That I had gotten a hold of her weakness?

The thought alone made me shudder, and I denied it quickly. "We've been married for a year. When have I ever threatened you? I just want a divorce.

"You're out all the time and never home. I feel more like a bachelor than a husband. Sure, I like you, but do you expect me to stay a virgin until I'm old and gray?

"You can't get the man you want, and you won't touch the one you don't want. Doesn't that exhaust you? Because it sure as hell wears me out."

Yvette tilted her head up, her eyes locked on mine. She stood on her toes, and her red lips brushed against my collar. If I lowered my head even a fraction, our lips would have touched.

In my past life, I would have been over the moon and unable to contain my excitement. Unfortunately, all I felt now was an overwhelming pressure bearing down on me.

Her red lips parted, and she said mockingly, "A bachelor, huh? Seems like you're saying you're lonely because I won't touch you."

I froze and felt the heat rush to my face. I hissed through gritted teeth, "That's not what I meant!"

In my past life, she couldn't wait to divorce me. She practically chased me down to get it done. Even when I was on my deathbed, she wouldn't answer my calls. Now, when I was the one asking for a divorce, she should have been thrilled and ready to agree in a heartbeat.

But instead, she was dodging the topic, bringing up random stuff, and overthinking everything!

Yvette raised a manicured finger and scratched under my chin lightly. She looked at my face and leaned in closer, and my body stiffened instinctively.

The corner of her lips quirked up.

"It doesn't matter what you meant, Owen. You may have started this marriage, but it won't end just because you say so. If you're really feeling lonely, you're welcome to find someone else. As long as it doesn't damage my reputation, do whatever you want."

Chapter 3 No More Ties or Involvement Between Us

Then, Yvette sneered. "And if I find out you dared lay a finger on him, I'll make sure you regret it."

A sharp pang stabbed at my chest. So in her eyes, I would always be nothing more than a petty, jealous husband who was eager to harm any man she cared about!

I stared at her beautiful face, bitterness curling my lips into a cold smile. "Yvette, not only do you have hearing problems, but it seems your brain isn't working either. If I wanted to go after him, do you think I would announce it to you?"

I took a deep breath and continued, "I don't want to argue with you. I'm telling you plainly—I'm definitely divorcing you. I'll explain everything to Grandpa and make sure it doesn't affect you. Think it over carefully."

With that, I shook off her hand, leaving the dishes on the table as I headed upstairs.

A few minutes later, the sound of the door slamming echoed across the house. Yvette must have stormed off again.

I let out a long sigh. Even though I had been given a second chance at life, her words still stung. Luckily, it was only a sting, not the soul-crushing pain I had felt in my previous life.

I collapsed onto the bed and closed my eyes, hoping for a proper rest. But before I could drift off, my phone rang.

I glanced at the screen and saw it was my father-in-law, Lucas Jenning. I hesitated for a long moment before finally answering it.

"Lucas."

Lucas' booming voice immediately filled my ears. "Owen, your mother-in-law asked me to check in on you. Have you been using those medical herbs we sent you to make your meals as prescribed?"

My eyes flickered to the corner of the room, where the unopened boxes of herbs were still stacked neatly. I lied smoothly, "Of course. I've been making them every week, just as instructed. Yvette and I have been eating them regularly."

Lucas was obviously pleased by my answer. Yvette was his only daughter, and with his family's vast fortune, he was desperate for a grandchild to carry on the Jenning family's name.

In the year we were married, I lost track of how many times I had been hounded about it. But with our divorce imminent, I wasn't in the mood for his meddling.

"Lucas, having a child depends on fate. It'll happen when the time is right. We can't force it."

I thought my gentle explanation would end the conversation, but Lucas was unexpectedly relentless.

"Fate? What are you talking about? Don't give me that nonsense," he said. "I chose you because you're decent, good-looking, and smart. You've got the right genes to pass on to a child!"

He continued, "Let me tell you something, Owen. If you're not capable of doing your part, and if even the doctors can't fix it, you better step aside. There's no shortage of men willing to give us a grandchild."

His words struck a nerve, and I felt a surge of anger ignite in my chest.

I had spent years bending over backward for my in-laws, playing the obedient son-in-law to perfection. If they told me to go east, I wouldn't even glance west.

But now, all those years of compliance had led to a worse state, and they even attribute Yvette's inability to conceive a child to me.

I swallowed my pride for so many years, only to be repaid with endless humiliation.

I didn't even want Yvette anymore now, so why should I care about her parents?

"You think having a kid is something I can just decide on my own?" I spat. "How about you use that big brain of yours to think before you speak and put the blame on me?

"You've seen my medical reports. Have you found a single problem with me? Is everything my fault? Fine. I'll find someone else to have a kid with right now. Would you accept that child as your precious heir if I had one?"

Lucas was stunned into silence. He couldn't believe I had just talked back to him. He was so shocked that he stuttered.

"W-What? You're the one lacking, but you're blaming my daughter? And you're even talking back to me? Have you lost your mind?"

I sneered. What an unrelenting old man!

"I'm telling you that it's your daughter who can't have kids. Instead of wasting your time blaming me, maybe you should focus on her. And clear your head while you're at it!"

Before he could respond, I hung up and swiftly turned off my phone. Throwing myself back on the bed, I let out a deep, satisfied laugh. I even rolled around on the bed in delight.

How satisfying!

Letting go of this marriage was the most liberating thing I had ever done. Since I had nothing to lose, I wasn't afraid.

From now on, whoever wanted to put up with this nonsense could go ahead. I was done with it!

I was busy the entire day, and I was exhausted. I drifted off quickly, and it was 10:00 pm when I woke up. I headed downstairs and found the villa dark and empty. Unsurprisingly, Yvette didn't seem like she was coming back, just like in my past life.

A faint, mocking smile crept onto my lips. I was used to this by now. I calmly cleaned up the dishes from earlier, then made myself a proper dinner.

I wasn't going to starve or hurt myself for anyone's sake anymore.

After eating my fill, I packed my bags without hesitation, leaving the villa I had once meticulously decorated. For now, I would stay at a hotel.

Tomorrow, I had two important matters to handle. One was the divorce. The other was more critical.

Failure wasn't an option!

The next morning, I was woken by my phone ringing insistently. It was Yvette.

"Owen!" Yvette snapped on the other end, her voice sharp and venomous. "What did you say to my father last night?"

I was still groggy as I rubbed my head. Briefly recalling the chat I had with Lucas, I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"It sounds like you already know what I said." I chuckled. "By the way, when are your parents taking you for that checkup?"

Yvette stayed silent for a long moment, but I could already picture her face—dark with anger as she tried to hold herself together.

Sure enough, her voice was filled with anger when she finally spoke. "Owen, reverse psychology doesn't work on me. I have zero interest in sleeping with you, got it?"

I stretched lazily, rolling onto my side as I made myself comfortable.

"Stop flattering yourself. I have no interest in sleeping with you."

She scoffed haughtily. "That's not what you used to say. Also, why don't I see breakfast waiting for me?"

My eyes snapped open, and I gritted my teeth. This wretched woman had never treated me well, but she had no problem bossing me around.

Not to brag, but my cooking was pretty good. Yvette never had the habit of eating breakfast, and I was afraid she would develop stomach issues because of that, so I went out of my way to teach myself how to cook.

Ironically, I was the one who ended up with stomach problems. Even fate seemed to favor her.

Even though our relationship was frosty in the year we were married, she genuinely enjoyed the meals I made. In my past life, I foolishly thought it meant she cared for me and that I had stood a chance.

Now, I saw the truth. This wretched woman just treated me like a free housekeeper.

I wouldn't cook another meal for her ever again.

When I didn't answer her for a long time, she grew impatient. "Where are you?"

I had no intention of indulging her temper tantrum. "Check the table on the second floor."

A moment later, I heard her going up the stairs. As she did, she continued to lecture me like the pampered young lady she was.

"You've been getting bolder lately! Why is breakfast on the second floor? You know I always eat on the first—"

Her footsteps stopped abruptly, and so did her voice. It was as if she had vanished into thin air. After a long silence, her angry voice came through the phone.

"Owen Yates, what's the meaning of this? Why is there a divorce agreement here?"

Before I left last night, I printed two copies of the divorce agreement. As we were going to divorce sooner or later, there was no point in dragging it out.

I could picture her face in my mind, her once-beautiful features now surely stormy with anger. I felt oddly calm, perhaps even a little smug.

"Why else would it be there? I've already signed my part. Don't worry, I'll leave with nothing. I don't want a single penny from you. From this moment on, we'll go our separate ways. There'll be no more ties or involvement between us, and we'll never see each other again."

Chapter 4 Just Sign the Divorce Agreement

Silence fell over us, and it was broken by a cold scoff. Yvette's voice dripped with disdain as she hissed, "You better not regret this, Owen."

I remained calm. Ever since the thought of divorce entered my mind, I had rehearsed this exact moment countless times. Every word she said was so far exactly as I had imagined.

"Don't worry. I never go back on my word. Just sign the divorce agreement, and we'll set a date to file the papers. Today's Wednesday, so—"

Before I could finish, she abruptly hung up.

I was speechless.

Seriously? That wretched woman! She was always hanging up on me!

I glanced at my watch. As much as I wanted to deal with the divorce, there were more pressing matters to attend to right now. The divorce could wait until tomorrow.

I quickly freshened up, grabbed my keys, and hopped on my motorcycle. The engine roared as I sped quickly to my destination.

Before long, I pulled up at the side of a bustling street and scanned the tightly packed row of shops. I waited patiently, my heart pounding with anticipation.

The scorching summer heat bore down on me relentlessly, so I parked in a shaded area and settled in for a wait. Time crawled by, but after two long hours, my patience was rewarded—a man and a woman finally appeared in my line of sight.

My eyes narrowed sharply.

There they were. My targets!

I stayed in place, watching as they entered a nearby café. Once they were inside, I followed from a distance. They took a seat across from each other, and I found a discreet corner where I could observe them without being noticed.

The woman wore a pink dress, her bright eyes sparkling with an innocent charm as she laughed and chatted with the man across from her. The man exuded a quiet air of elegance, looking polite, composed, and a perfect gentleman.

If it wasn't because I was reborn, I wouldn't have imagined the shocking things that would happen next.

The man suddenly excused himself and headed to the restroom. The moment he disappeared, the woman's sweet smile vanished. She took out a small vial from her pocket, glancing occasionally toward the restroom.

My fist clenched tightly as I swiftly took out my phone, angling the camera toward her.

The woman unscrewed the cap and poured the colorless liquid from the vial into the man's coffee. With practice ease, she stirred it thoroughly. Then, she slipped the vial back into her pocket. Her expression returned to one of innocence as she waited for the man to return.

When the man returned, the woman immediately jumped up with a playful pout before picking up the coffee and handing it to him.

The man was obviously charmed by her attention and was about to take a sip of his coffee.

"You taught me that once a drink leaves your sight, you shouldn't drink it. Have you forgotten?" I asked.

When they heard my voice, the man and woman turned toward me. As our gazes locked, the man froze for a split second, and his expression instantly turned cold.

"Owen? Why are you here?"

"Long time no see, Kenny."

Kenny Xanderson sneered. "Where's your precious Yvette? Aren't you always glued to her side?"

I didn't flinch at my best friend's mocking tone.

Kenny and I grew up together. We were inseparable, like brothers. But a year ago, we had a falling out because I chose to marry Yvette. He had warned me repeatedly and called me a bootlicker, saying I was chasing someone who didn't care about me.

He had been right all along. I had been the ultimate bootlicker for her. In my past life, I was stubborn and stupid, and I didn't listen to him. I pushed away my best friend, who was sincere to me for the sake of a woman. Up until Kenny's death, I never reconciled with him.

The person responsible for his death was standing right before me. It was his neighbor, Lilian Smith.

In my past life, she drugged him and had men force themselves on him. She even collected his nude photos and videos to post them online and blackmailed him into paying her off every month.

Eventually, Kenny discovered that those photos and videos had been posted online from the start. Already deep in debt from loan sharks, the pressure broke him, and he jumped from a building to end his life.

At his funeral, I had been wrecked with guilt and regret, wishing I could undo everything and bring him back.

This time, I would save him!

I shamelessly sat down next to Kenny and threw an arm over his shoulder.

"Yvette's nothing. If I want to get out and have some fun, I'll do it. As for you…" I glanced at Lilian and sneered. "This… thing sitting opposite us is nothing but scum."

Lilian's once sweet face darkened. "What do you mean by that? We don't even know each other. Why are you insulting me?"

I didn't bother pretending anymore, and I sneered. "You know exactly what you just did. Don't you have any sense of guilt? Stop addressing him so familiarly. You don't deserve it."

Lilian looked a little flustered, but she forced herself to remain calm. "Kenny, who is this? Why is he accusing me out of nowhere?"

As she spoke, her eyes turned red-rimmed, and tears welled up.

However, Kenny's expression immediately changed as he glanced at her. We were best friends for so many years, and he knew I wouldn't make baseless accusations.

"Owen, what exactly happened?"

I pulled out my phone and played the video I recorded earlier. Kenny's face grew darker as he watched, his brow furrowing deeper and his anger rising with every second.

When Lilian saw I had a video, she quickly stood up in panic to flee. But before she could make it very far, Kenny grabbed her arm and held her in place.

Years of discipline stopped him from lashing out physically. Instead, he turned to me and calmly said, "Owen, please call the police."

After cooperating with the police's investigation, Kenny and I headed home together. His face remained grim the entire time.

"She helped me a few times and even flirted with me. I thought she liked me and that she was pursuing me. Luckily, you were there."

Every word he said was filled with gratitude, and I chuckled.

"I just wonder how many decent men she's fooled with that innocent little act of hers."

With the weight lifted off my chest, I finally felt a sense of relief. Also, if I could change Kenny's fate, did that mean I could change my own too?

We exchanged glances and laughed.

"Has life been good to you this past year?" Kenny asked.

I shook my head honestly.

He suddenly grew anxious. "What happened? Did that woman treat you badly?"

Before I could say anything, his expression turned serious. "If it's a fight, I'm not taking you in. I won't waste my breath trying to help you, only for you to end up in the same mess. I'm against bootlicking. That's my stance on the matter."

"I don't want to be a bootlicker anymore. I'm actually getting a divorce from Yvette."

Kenny froze, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"What? Are you serious? You're actually leaving her? Didn't you say that from her face and body alone, you could love her forever, no matter what she does?"

Chapter 5 A Doormat No More

Yvette had smooth, fair skin, long legs, a slim waist, and a generous chest.

In my past life, I was completely infatuated with her right until my bitter end.

I looked at Kenny and said frankly, "Everyone goes through a wild, reckless phase. Now she has another man, and it wouldn't be right to keep pushing for something that was never there."

Kenny let out a sharp gasp. "What? That wretch actually cheated?"

I shook my head and explained, "She was already in love with someone before we got married. So, technically, it's not cheating."

I was the one who realized too late. From what I knew, she didn't cheat on me even after two years of marriage.

Her prince charming was also in love with someone else. Even though she wanted nothing more than to make him hers, she knew where to draw the line.

However, starting the third year of our marriage, our problems got worse. I also fell ill. So, who knows what happened after that?

Kenny's face turned red from anger. "That's even worse! She had someone she liked but still married you? And even kept you as backup? She's getting what she deserves!"

I remained quiet.

Kenny suddenly had a realization. "She was never a good person to start with. You're different, though. At least you're genuine with your feelings."

I chuckled and nudged his shoulder lightly. "You're obviously right. From now on, I'm letting go of everyone and everything else, apart from the people I care about."

The people who didn't love me would eventually leave. The ones who did would stick around and even approach me willingly.

I would only protect the things I cared about. I didn't care about everything else.

Kenny sighed. "That's probably for the best. But tell me, is that really the only reason you're getting a divorce? Or is there more to it?"

"I don't love her anymore," I replied casually.

Kenny stared at me, his eyes wide, and let out a surprised gasp. "Which one do you think is more believable? You saying that or me winning a ten million dollar lottery today?"

I couldn't help but laugh. But honestly, it was the truth.

"I can't say I've completely let go. After all, I did love her deeply once. But I won't be moved by her anymore."

"What are you even on about? You've known her for just a few years. How deeply can you love someone in that short time?" Kenny immediately called me out.

I paused, unable to come up with an answer. Seeing my hesitation, he didn't push any further and just sighed.

"Well, whatever. It's a good thing you're leaving Yvette. I've been telling you to do that for so long. There are millions of women in the world, and none of them are as bad as her. It's like… four four-leaf clovers are hard to find, but three-leaf clovers are everywhere, right?

"You're good-looking, come from a good family, and you're a good guy. You've got women lining up for you, but you have a terrible taste. You don't pick the good ones but go for the good ones that everyone else has rejected."

After Kenny vented, he switched topics. "So, what's your plan after your divorce?"

I thought for a moment, then said, "Get a job, build a career, live my life the way I want."

Kenny immediately grinned when he heard my answer. "You finally thought things through, huh? You should have been focusing on your career all along.

"You were always top of the class back in school, light years ahead of me. The teachers used to say that you were going to be an elite among the elite."

Kenny sighed. "But you wasted it all and hung onto that rotten woman. You threw away your talents, and it's maddening! But enough about that. I know someone who's hiring for what you're good at. I'll introduce you to him tomorrow."

"Sure," I replied quickly.

I didn't want Yvette's money, though she probably wouldn't offer it anyway. Once the divorce was final, I wouldn't have any income to fall back on, so I needed to find work fast.

We talked for a while longer, but eventually, we had to cut the conversation short because of the meeting tomorrow. Just before we headed to our own home, Kenny suddenly asked, "Owen, do you still keep in touch with Lila?"

At the mention of her name, my chest tightened, and a sharp ache settled in my heart.

Lila Hawthorne.

That name felt like it belonged in another lifetime…

Kenny sighed again and patted my shoulder. "If it weren't for her, you never would've married Yvette and been stuck in this miserable situation. If she knew you were divorcing…"

He trailed off, and I didn't continue the topic either. We just fell into a heavy silence.

Kenny quickly realized he had struck a nerve, so he rushed to change the subject before retreating home to sleep.

Once I returned to my room, I couldn't sleep a wink. By the time I finally dozed off, I was jolted awake by the loud, jarring sound of my phone ringing.

I gritted my teeth in frustration and answered without checking the caller ID. "Who the heck is calling at this hour?"

"Owen, where are you?"

Yvette?

My groggy mind cleared a little, and I glanced at the clock. It was 5:30 am, and my annoyance surged.

"Are you crazy, Yvette? What do you want at this hour?"

Yvette was silent for a moment, and her voice was low. "I dreamt that you were hurting yourself. I even dreamt that you died. You died horribly."

I clenched my fist, the anger flaring up. "You've got some obsession with me dying, don't you? Is that why you're having these weird dreams? Besides, what's the point of calling me if I really died? Do you think calling me would somehow save me?"

In my past life, when I was in the hospital for surgery, it was true that I needed to call her. I needed her to take care of my affairs after I was gone. But now, I was alive and well, and her words were absolutely ridiculous.

Yvette must have realized how absurd she sounded, so she didn't push the issue any further.

"Where did you keep the medicine? And where's the pitcher?"

Hah! What a wretched woman. She's treating me like a free housekeeper again.

I started to doubt if she really had those dreams she claimed she had. Maybe it was just an excuse to get me to fetch things for her.

I was about to ignore her and hang up, but then Yvette sweetly whined, "Owen, my stomach hurts."

I instantly frowned. There was a tremor in her voice, and despite everything, I worried about her.

"The meds are in the second drawer of the TV cabinet in the living room. The pitcher's in the kitchen cabinet. Take two pills at a time, nothing more."

"Okay," Yvette replied obediently.

I heard her moving around downstairs, rummaging for the things she needed.

Then, it hit me. What was I doing? I slapped myself on the cheek. What did any of this have to do with me?

"Yvette, we're going to divorce soon. From now on, let's keep some distance. Don't come to me with things like this anymore. Actually, don't come to me about anything at all. Also, you woke me up from my sleep, so you owe me for emotional damages!"

The moment I said that, I heard her snort on the other end of the line. Then, she arrogantly said, "You want me to compensate you?"

I scoffed. "Of course. From the moment I married you, you've been living off me. I've been the one doing all the giving. You wasted the best years of my life. Shouldn't you be compensating me?"

At that, Yvette became even more sarcastic. "Your best years? You're a grown man, what best years are you talking about? Sounds like you're just obsessed with money."

I proudly replied, "That's right. I care about money, and I only like money. It's a hell of a lot better than you. What do you even have? A bunch of annoying quirks, picky about food and people, OCD… Oh, and you can't even have kids."

In my past life, I had been the dutiful, self-sacrificing househusband. But what did I have to show for in the end? Nothing—absolutely nothing.

This time around, I would at least have money.

She gritted her teeth and shouted, "Owen Yates!"

I could tell she was about to say something nasty, so I hung up without hesitation. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but before I could even set my phone down, she called again.

Once more, I hung up without a second thought.

It felt liberating.

In the past, she was always the one hanging up on me. Now, the tables had turned.

In this life, I didn't have to tiptoe around her feelings and try to maintain our marriage. I didn't need to worry about whether she would get tired of me or find me annoying.

From now on, I wasn't going to be anyone's bootlicker ever again. I would live for myself and be happy!

Chapter 6 Are You Done Yet?

I closed my eyes again, but this time, my thoughts drifted to Yvette's stomach pain.

Yvette was a workaholic. Even before we got married, she often neglected food for the sake of her career. Over time, it led to her developing stomach issues.

I was worried for her, so I took it upon myself to learn how to cook after we got married. Slowly, she started to enjoy food again, and her stomach issues became a thing of the past.

But now, without me around, it seemed like her old problems were coming back. She really didn't know how to take care of herself.

On second thought, her true love was a doctor. If she really felt unwell, I was sure she would be off to him for some comfort and attention.

Whatever. It wasn't my problem anymore. I would finalize the divorce with her after I was done with my meeting tomorrow. The sooner it was over, the better.

The next day, Kenny was up early. He told me the company had run into an issue and he needed to deal with it right away.

"I've sent you the business partner's address. Get there yourself, okay? As compensation for ditching you, I'll treat you to a big dinner tonight!"

I was so tired I could barely open my eyes. "Okay. Sure."

It wasn't until sunlight flooded the room that I finally woke up and dragged myself out of bed. After washing up, I made sure to use some hair gel. Then, I put on my suit and stood before the mirror for a moment.

I was almost 6 feet 3 inches, and I had the kind of build that made clothes look good. I wasn't what you called a delicate face. I had more of a bold, masculine look. I didn't have the ethereal and cold look that Randall had. My vibe was more grounded but still sharp.

I didn't think too much of it. After straightening my clothes, I grabbed a quick breakfast downstairs, then got on my motorcycle and headed to the address Kenny had sent. For some reason, the address seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place when I had been there before.

"Navigation complete. Destination is on your right," the voice from my GPS said.

I looked to the right and saw a sleek and luxurious skyscraper. I parked my motorcycle and walked inside, hitting the elevator button for the 43rd floor.

The building was spacious and bright, with high-end decorations everywhere. The 43rd floor looked particularly extravagant.

I walked up to the front desk, and the receptionist introduced me to a young woman in professional attire with her hair in a bun. She was the company's senior secretary, Linda Brown.

Linda was on the phone when I arrived.

"Don't worry, Ms. Lane. I know you've been looking for him for a while. I'll notify you as soon as he's here. Okay. Bye."

I waited for Linda to hang up before I approached her. "Hello, I'm here for an interview."

Linda barely glanced at me, her expression cold as she opened my résumé and started reading it intently. Suddenly, her eyes widened in shock.

"You're Owen Yates! The lead artist for the game, Fulfilled Dreams!"

I nodded. "Yes, that's me."

My name had always sounded like a pen name, so I had kept it the same throughout my career as a lead artist.

Linda gasped and covered her mouth in shock. Then, she hurriedly reached out to shake my hand, her excitement barely contained.

"Oh my god! Back in highschool, your fan works already stood out, and then in college, you were invited to be the lead artist for Fulfilled Dreams. Your work is known worldwide! I… I can't believe I'm meeting you!

"Our manager and everyone else have been looking for you for a while! When someone mentioned you'd be coming today, we were half skeptical… but I can't believe it's really you!"

Linda was so excited, and she was holding onto my hand so tightly it started to hurt. I awkwardly laughed and pulled my hand back.

"It was a friend who arranged this for me," I explained.

Linda didn't seem to hear me as she continued rambling, "I really love your work, sir. But why haven't you been drawing lately? It's been over a year, and I thought you retired from the industry."

She paused for a second, then answered her own question. "You haven't been taking any private commissions under a pseudonym, right? I've followed a few works that were similar to your style…"

I answered honestly, "I've been on a break for personal reasons, but I'll continue drawing. By the way, when will your manager be here? When do we start the interview?"

At that, she seemed to remember why I was here. She quickly said, "Please wait just a moment. I'll make a call. Our boss even called Ms. Jenning over so they both could meet you."

Then, she pulled out her phone and called someone.

Ms. Jenning?

A sudden, unsettling feeling washed over me as I waited for her to hang up. When she did, I couldn't help but ask, "Who's your boss?"

Linda beamed and said, "Haven't you seen her? Her name's Nancy Lane. They're almost here; please just wait a moment."

Nancy Lane!

My expression immediately changed.

Nancy was Yvette's childhood friend, the heiress of Lane Group, and they were very close.

Unlike Yvette's soft, sentimental nature, Nancy was wild and carefree. She was always looking for excitement. Her business ventures mostly involved entertainment companies—bars, clubs, anything that involved pleasure.

She knew how to live life to the fullest.

Nancy firmly believed that no man could stay 18 forever, but there would always be new 18-year-olds every year. As for the young celebrities signed to her entertainment company? She always picked the ones she wanted to have fun with first.

I finally recalled why the address was so familiar. In my past life, Yvette had mentioned that she invested in a company Nancy had started. I was here once to drop off lunch for Yvette, but it had been such a brief visit that I didn't remember much about it.

I usually didn't like dealing with people like Nancy, so our interactions were few and far between.

Linda tried to keep the conversation going, but I quickly interrupted.

"Sorry, I just remembered I had something important to take care of. Let's talk another time."

With that, I stood up to leave. Linda chased after me, but I ignored her, not wanting to run into Nancy and Yvette. Just as the elevator arrived, I stepped inside and almost bumped into two very different but still beautiful women.

One was wearing a sharply tailored light blue suit, a flat look on her familiar, bright face as she walked inside the room.

It was Yvette.

The woman beside her was someone who couldn't be more different yet equally striking. She was dressed in a long gown and had fiery red lips. Large waves of shoulder-length hair cascaded down her back.

As soon as Yvette saw me, a flicker of surprise crossed her bright eyes. "Owen? Why are you here?"

Nancy suddenly exclaimed, "Well, if it isn't my best friend's husband! Why didn't you give me a heads-up if you were coming here?"

I wasn't interested in talking to either of them, so I kept my expression neutral and quickly tried to pass them to enter the elevator.

"Owen, stop right there." Yvette's cold voice came from behind me, but I didn't stop.

Maybe I pissed her off because she quickly caught up to me. I heard the click of her heels getting louder and closer until she grabbed my arm.

I was forced to stop, and I turned to look at her. She had a scowl on her face, and her red lips were slightly pursed.

"I told you to stop. Didn't you hear me?"

I tried to shake her off, but she didn't budge.

"I heard you. So what? Do I have to stop just because you told me to?"

Nancy was standing some distance away, and I saw her raise an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips.

"Yvette, what did you do to make him so mad? He actually doesn't want to talk to you? That's never happened before!"

Yvette glared at Nancy, and the latter immediately raised her hand in mock surrender, going silent with a grin.

Then, Yvette's eyes locked onto mine, her gaze as dark and unreadable as an abyss.

"Are you done yet? How long are you going to keep this up?"

Chapter 7 Am I a Freeloader to You

I was utterly stunned, unable to believe what I heard. "Yvette, do you still think I'm joking? I've told you again and again that we should get divorced. I've even signed the divorce papers, yet you still think I'm kidding?"

Yvette stood tall, her elegant figure leaning closer to me. "Owen, playing hard to get might be intriguing the first time, but it becomes tiresome after two or three times. Enough with the theatrics. Go home. You know I'm not a patient woman."

I looked at her inscrutable expression and couldn't help but laugh in exasperation. "Yvette, can you stop thinking so highly of yourself? What? Am I supposed to wither and die without you in my life? I'll say this one last time. I want a divorce, and I'm not joking. I'm dead serious."

She crossed her arms, a condescending smirk on her face. "Isn't this all about money? Just name your price. I don't have time to waste on this nonsense. And don't even think about embarrassing me in front of others."

Her words hit me like a slap. My face turned pale, and an old, familiar feeling of humiliation welled up inside me. I had felt this way before—she had always looked down on me, crushing my self-esteem without a second thought.

For reasons I couldn't explain, anger surged through me. I shoved her, not forcefully, but enough to send her back a couple of steps.

"I told you, I don't want your money!" I spat. "Stop assuming that everyone sees the world the way you do. Have you even read the divorce agreement? There's nothing in it about splitting your money!"

Caught off guard and unsteady in her high heels, Yvette stumbled back a few steps.

Standing nearby, Nancy burst out laughing. "Wow, Yvette! I never thought I'd see the day. Someone's fed up with you! And you're even arguing with a man. This is a first. Impressive!"

Yvette's expression darkened instantly as she shot Nancy a withering glare.

Nancy, now quieter but still amused, gave me a thumbs-up. "Owen, you're doing great. You've been too indulgent with Yvette, always catering to her every whim. See? Now that you're finally standing up for yourself, she's finally behaving."

"Shut up!" Yvette and I shouted at the same time.

Nancy pouted slightly. "Fine. I'll shut up. But just one last thing, Owen. Yvette has been pampered her whole life. She gets everything she wants, and there's always a crowd of men chasing after her. She's never had to take the initiative, so don't be mad at her.

"Plus, her stomach was acting up again this morning. When I checked on her, she was almost fainting from the pain. She won't even eat anything. She's probably still in pain now. And she only likes the food you cook—"

Before she could finish, Yvette's glare silenced her. "Nancy, I dare you to say one more word."

This time, Nancy stopped talking. She even pulled her secretary back a few steps for good measure.

I hadn't expected Yvette not to run straight to her prince charming. How could she not seize such a perfect opportunity?

Before I could dwell on it, Yvette's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Owen, in the year we've been married, tell me how many of your clothes, accessories, and other things I have bought for you?

"Without a woman to depend on, can a useless freeloader like you survive? I've said it already—if you want money, just say so. Stop using divorce as an excuse.

"Move back in today and return everything you took. Every single thing must be back in its place. Otherwise, you'll never set foot in that home again."

Her sharp, dark eyes bore into me as if she were utterly convinced that I was just playing hard to get and would inevitably crawl back for her money.

I was so furious, and my chest heaved with each breath. I couldn't hold it in anymore and laughed bitterly.

In our previous lives, she was generous with money before the divorce. Whatever I wanted, she bought it without hesitation.

But I never asked for much. I just wanted gifts to mark the special occasions and build memories together.

I gave her gifts, too, though she never accepted them. Eventually, I switched to cooking for her—if she gave me something, I would make her a lavish meal in return.

I thought it was a sweet, playful tradition between husband and wife. But in her eyes, I was nothing more than a freeloader.

She bought me things but did so only to brush me off like she was dealing with a pet, not out of genuine care.

Even now, after a second chance at life, the pain of that realization still stung. I gritted my teeth.

"Yvette, listen carefully. Your money means nothing to me. If it weren't for marrying you and becoming a househusband, I wouldn't have had to ask you for anything.

"Since we're both so fed up with each other, let's cut the nonsense. I've had enough of this humiliating existence. Let's end our marriage and never cross paths again! Even if I were starving to death, I wouldn't take a penny from you!"

With every word I spoke, her face darkened even further.

"You can take back everything you've bought for me. And the stuff I took—whatever you paid for, I'll return every last bit.

"I've really seen it all now. I went out of my way to pack it all up and clear the space for your next lover, but you demand I bring it all back and put it exactly where it was? Unbelievable. I've met stingy people before, but you take the cake.

"No wonder you don't deserve any man, Yvette. Marrying you was the worst decision of my life!" I was practically shouting, and I had already decided to take off my clothes and return them as soon as I got home.

It was disgusting!

Yvette's face twisted in fury, a rare sight of her truly losing her temper.

I pressed the elevator button angrily.

This time, she didn't try to stop me. She simply turned and walked away.

She must have been livid. After all, she had bent over backward for her dream man, and I had hit her where it hurt by pointing out her failure. She couldn't stand it.

Behind me, Nancy was laughing, clearly enjoying the drama. "Owen, impressive! I've never seen anyone rile Yvette up like that before. I like it. You're welcome to visit me anytime. And hey, if you get divorced, consider me. I'm beautiful and rich—not any worse than Yvette!"

As if! I shot her a cold glare. She and Yvette were two of a kind, both troublemakers.

Then, I noticed her secretary whisper something in her ear. She suddenly looked up at me, her expression full of surprise.

Great. She must have overheard Yvette calling me a useless freeloader. Now, she must have figured out I came to apply for the lead artist position.

What a mess. Of all the places to look for work, I ended up at Yvette's friend's company. And after everything that happened, Nancy must think I was completely insufferable.

What a disaster.

Chapter 8 A Little Soothing Does the Trick

As the elevator doors opened, I rushed inside, furiously pressing the buttons, eager to leave.

Thankfully, my motorcycle wasn't bought with her money. Suppressing my frustration, I revved it up and headed to the cemetery.

When I parked, my phone rang. Upon seeing the caller ID, my expression turned cold.

"Dad?" I answered.

A deep, authoritative voice came through the line. "Owen, how long has it been since you last came home? If you have time today, come back. We'll have a family gathering. I have something to discuss with you."

I had heard these words from him countless times. I thought for a moment before agreeing. "Alright."

After hanging up, I walked through rows of tombstones until I reached one. Standing before it, I stared at the photo of a kind, smiling woman on the tombstone. I felt a pang in my chest.

Forcing a smile, I greeted her. "Mom, I'm here."

I sat on the ground and looked at the picture; my vision blurred. I wiped the photo gently. "Mom, are you mad at me for not visiting sooner? Don't be. I'll come more often from now on.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I should've listened to you. I should've never married Yvette. I regret it. I regret it so much…" My voice cracked, and I choked out my confession. "I was wrong, Mom. I was so wrong…"

A year ago, when I insisted on marrying Yvette for a business alliance, my mom was the only one who opposed it. She had tried so hard to convince me otherwise, saying that no matter the gender, marrying someone one didn't love was akin to stepping into a grave. There would be no happiness, only misery.

She said I was her pride and joy, the son she raised with great effort. She only wanted me to be safe and happy, not to follow in her footsteps.

But emotions blinded me, and I stubbornly chose to go against her advice. I even arrogantly declared I would prove her wrong. Now, I was living with the bitter consequences.

I poured my heart out to her, sharing my pain from both past and present lives. It felt cathartic, like a weight lifting from my chest. As I sat there, lost in thought, a sudden sound startled me from behind.

I turned and saw a man in a wheelchair a short distance away.

His legs were paralyzed, and he wore a simple shirt. His rugged face bore signs of hardship, with coarse skin and light stubbles. Yet, these traces of time couldn't diminish his striking demeanor; instead, they accentuated the charm of a mature man.

His eyes carried a defeated look as though life had dealt him a harsh hand. He stared at me, eyes reddening.

The moment I recognized his face, I froze in shock.

…

Later that evening, I returned to my family's home. The dining table was already set with a spread of delicious-smelling dishes. Three people sat around the table, chatting and laughing warmly.

The portly middle-aged man with a cheerful face was my dad, William Yates. Next to him sat my aunt, Lexi Crane. She was dressed in expensive clothes and jewelry, exuding an air of wealth. On his other side was my cousin, Jackson. He was behaving politely toward them.

Looking at the scene, they seemed like a harmonious family.

When my dad saw me, he immediately waved me over.

"Owen, you're here! Why are you just standing there? Jackson and your Aunt Lexi came to visit you. Come sit; we're about to eat."

"Mr. Owen, your eyes look swollen. Let me get some warm compress to ease the swelling," our housekeeper, Rosie Murphy, approached me with concern.

Meanwhile, William was busy serving food to someone else.

It wasn't until Rosie pointed it out that they noticed something was off with me.

Jackson glanced at me and smirked. "What's with the crying? You look like a stray dog. So pitiful. Did you have a fight with Eve? Owen, listen to me. Marrying the young lady of the Jenning family is a blessing. Learn to bite your tongue. Don't throw tantrums."

In my previous life, I had always swallowed my pride to maintain peace. But this time, I wouldn't let him off so easily.

I walked over and sat down calmly before replying coldly, "Yvette is my wife. Shouldn't you address her by her name? You keep calling her 'Eve' like you're close. Have some respect. Or are you trying to take my place?"

My words hit a nerve. Jackson's face darkened, and he immediately asked my dad, "Uncle William, what does Owen mean by that? I've been doing my best to help their marriage, yet he accuses me of trying to steal Eve?"

My dad's face clouded over, and Aunt Lexi immediately played the mediator, standing up with an air of concern. "Jackson, even if Owen upset Yvette and got kicked out, you shouldn't say such things. You two are cousins; you should support each other. Apologize to him."

While she spoke, her eyes darted toward my dad, clearly trying to stir the pot rather than resolve anything.

I watched coldly, a mocking smile tugging at my lips.

In my past life, I hadn't seen through her facade for years. It wasn't until much later that I discovered the truth—Jackson wasn't my cousin but my half-brother. And my "aunt" was nothing more than a homewrecker who had taken my mom's place.

Like mother, like son. No wonder Jackson aimed to take over my position.

In my previous life, my mom was a joke to them. I couldn't stomach it. I had fought with Yvette endlessly, using her influence to hollow out my dad's business empire and lead it to ruin.

Once the company collapsed, the venomous mother-and-son duo fled without a trace, leaving us to fend for ourselves.

Back then, I had neither the power nor the opportunity to retaliate. But in this life, I would make sure they paid in full.

Jackson refused to apologize. "Why should I apologize when he insulted me first?"

William frowned and set his fork down, glaring at me. "You're older than Jackson. How can you talk to him like that? Did all your education amount to nothing?"

Jackson smirked smugly at me.

I didn't say anything as my mind was clear—I was the only outsider in this family.

My dad turned to me, his tone cold. "Did you upset Ms. Jenning?"

"No," I said casually, picking up a piece of meat.

His expression relaxed slightly, and his heavy jowls quivered in relief.

"Good. Lexi and Jackson are right. Given our family's current situation, marrying into the Jenning family is a blessing you can't take lightly. You need to appreciate it. We've only gotten this far because of Ms. Jenning's support. Don't forget that.

"Control your temper and make an effort. Women are easy to deal with—just coax them a little, and they'll come around.

"Speaking of which, our company's working on a new project, but we're short on funds. You must convince her to cover the costs. Understand?"

Chapter 9 Help Your Cousin Secure a Good Position

It was always like this.

Back then, I liked Yvette, but my dear dad didn't miss a chance to strategize for me. Of course, he had his motives—marrying into the Jenning family meant his company could flourish.

Ever since I got married, every time he called me back, it was always about using my connection to the Jenning family.

I was nothing more than a pawn for his ambitions in my past and present lives. The words I heard most from him were to keep Yvette happy so he could leverage her influence.

Never once did he care about how I was doing in this marriage. And me? I clung to a shred of familial affection, bending backward to help him. In a way, Yvette was right—I was a useless freeloader, dependent on her to survive.

Suppressing the turmoil in my chest, I picked up another piece of fish, my eyes cold with mockery, and said flatly, "She doesn't owe us anything. I won't ask her to help. If you need funding, write a proposal and talk to her directly. If your project is truly good, why wouldn't she invest?"

It was the first time I had gone against him. The others were stunned, unable to believe that the usually spineless me would have the guts to talk back.

My dad's authority as the head of the household had been challenged. He slammed his fork on the table and pointed at me angrily, his face red. "Owen, you ungrateful brat! How dare you talk back to me?

"You think so little of me when I can still care for myself and earn money. What will you do when I get old? Will you even go as far as to kill me?

"Let me tell you, as long as I'm your dad, I'll always be in charge! You married a good wife; what's wrong with asking you to help? Whether you like it or not, you're doing this!"

Aunt Lexi grabbed his arm to calm him down, then turned to me with a sugar-coated plea. "Owen, you married into the Jenning family, but this is still your home.

"If your family is strong, wouldn't that make it easier for you? It's not a big deal; just ask Ms. Jenning to help with some funds. Your dad will be happy, and the family will be better off. Isn't that good for everyone?"

I laughed coldly. They wanted to sacrifice me to benefit them. Of course, they would think it was great.

But I didn't want to make a scene. I would let them gloat for a few more days. Soon, I would make sure my dad's life's work crumbled to dust. He would end up ruined and alone, begging for forgiveness.

"Handle the company's business as you see fit. We'll deal with the rest later."

Upon seeing that I relented, my dad's expression softened slightly. "That's better. Also, talk to Ms. Jenning about getting Jackson a position at the Jenning Group."

Jackson's attitude changed instantly when he heard this. He looked at me with anticipation.

"Owen, I really can't stand those low-paying, high-stress jobs. You've got to set me up with something decent."

I slammed my fork onto the table and asked coldly, "Why should I?"

Jackson froze, staring at me in disbelief.

Aunt Lexi was equally surprised, though she quickly forced a smile. "Owen, you're Jackson's cousin and Ms. Jenning's husband. He just graduated and doesn't have much experience. Starting at another company would mean working from the bottom, doing all the dirty jobs.

"You know how I've spoiled him. He's not cut out for that kind of hardship. This is just a small favor for you; it's nothing difficult. I'll thank you in advance!"

I raised my hand to stop her. "Hold on. I haven't agreed yet. Don't thank me just yet. Every time I come home, it's always something. First, it's about investments. Now, it's about jobs. Don't you think you're pushing your luck?"

Their faces darkened visibly.

My dad slammed the table angrily. "Brat, who do you think you're talking to—"

I cut him off with a sneer. "Let's be clear. In the past, I've helped with whatever I could. But from now on, I won't go groveling to Yvette for anything on your behalf. If you need something, ask her yourself.

"Dad, you know that favors are harder to repay than money. If she gets fed up, divorces me, and demands compensation, I'll be left with nothing. You'd better think about what to do then."

The room fell into an awkward silence. Eventually, he relented with a grunt. "Fine. Let's eat before the food gets cold."

Jackson and Aunt Lexi exchanged a glance, their teeth grinding in frustration, but they didn't dare say anything else.

I glanced at them with a faint smile, then continued eating leisurely. Out of everyone, I was the only one enjoying the meal. Everything tasted great with a healthy body.

After dinner, I went upstairs to find some of my old clothes to wear.

As I reached the landing, I overheard Aunt Lexi whispering to my dad, "Doesn't Owen seem different? He used to be such a pushover. Why is he so defiant now?"

I ignored her and went to my room, finding that most of my belongings had been discarded.

Maintaining my composure, I rummaged around and finally found a shoebox in the back of the closet.

Luckily, I still had a pair of canvas shoes I had bought in college. I put them on, deciding to buy new clothes on my way out.

When I turned, I saw Jackson standing at the door, his eyes filled with mockery. I didn't intend to engage with him, but he blocked the doorway and looked at me with a smirk.

"Do you need something?" I asked.

"Of course," he said slowly. "Are those two small things we mentioned earlier so hard for you to achieve? Or are you just that insignificant in Eve's eyes? Or are you afraid of me getting close to her if I work at Jenning Group?"

I stared at him, unamused. "Why not ask her yourself? That would save us both the trouble."

"You're just afraid Eve might fall for me and dump you because I'm younger."

Watching his self-satisfied expression, I couldn't help but laugh coldly.

In Yvette's heart, there was only her prince charming. Where did Jackson get the confidence to think she would like him?

Was it just because he was younger than Yvette's prince charming?

"How about this? I'll call her right now. You can ask her yourself. If she agrees, you can start working at her company."

To my surprise, he agreed enthusiastically.

I dialed Yvette's number and put it on speaker.

"Hello?" Her vibrant and elegant voice came through.

Jackson excitedly snatched the phone, deliberately pitching his voice like a coquettish flirt, "Eve, it's me, Jackson."

There was a pause on the other end before she replied, "Where's Owen?"

I raised an eyebrow, unable to discern her mood from her tone.

Still putting on his act, he said sweetly, "He's right here, but I wanted to call you myself. I have a favor to ask."

"What is it?" Yvette asked.

"Eve, I just graduated and was hoping to work at your company. You're so kind—I'm sure you wouldn't say no, right?

"But Owen thinks I'm younger than him and fears that you might favor me and neglect him, so he's not too keen on me going."

Chapter 10 A Slap to Jackson's Face

"Mhm," Yvette responded casually, sounding completely uninterested.

Jackson was overjoyed, assuming she had agreed to let him work at her company. However, the next moment, her words slapped him in the face.

"I don't keep idle people around. With your degree and experience, you're not qualified to work at Jenning Group."

His expression froze immediately. "Eve…"

I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips as I listened to her cold reprimand.

"Who permitted you to address me like that? Do you have no sense of propriety or decency? Is this how your family raised you?

"Your looks aren't even half as good as Owen's; you have no brains and no skills—what exactly is he supposed to be afraid of? That you'll go mad?"

Jackson's hand holding the phone started trembling, his face mixed with anger and embarrassment.

I couldn't hold back a laugh. Then she said, "Owen, I know you're there. Pick up the phone."

Hearing this, I quickly grabbed the phone and ended the call.

Jackson stared at the phone in disbelief, his face flushed with fury as he trembled.

I clicked my tongue twice. Yvette's sharpness was on full display today.

Patting his shoulder, I could feel his seething hatred, but I felt nothing but satisfaction. I smiled and said, "Jackson, stop dreaming about being a homewrecker."

He glared at me, gritting his teeth. "You must have said something to her. Otherwise, Eve wouldn't have spoken to me like that! You bastard!"

He shoved past me in anger, storming off. His forceful push made me stagger a bit, but I just laughed.

He had no talent, character, or desire to improve, yet he dreamt of climbing to the top in one leap. He blamed others instead of reflecting on himself when he was rejected.

How truly pathetic.

I didn't bother with him and went downstairs. Before leaving the house, I went to the study, where my dad was busy at the computer.

When he saw me, his face immediately soured, and he kept his head down, focused on his work.

Walking up to his desk, I got straight to the point. "Dad, give me some money."

His face darkened. Without even looking up, he asked, "What for?"

"My in-laws haven't been feeling well lately. I want to buy them some supplements."

His scowl froze when he heard that it was for Yvette's parents. Reluctantly, he reached for his phone to transfer me some money but paused mid-action. "Don't you have any money on you? Why are you always coming to me for it?"

I met his sharp, calculating gaze and replied calmly, "No, I don't. And I can't buy something cheap for them, can I?"

I genuinely didn't have money. Since high school, I had been earning some by drawing illustrations because my dad never gave me a cent. My mom, who didn't have control of the family finances, could only give me a little now and then.

My savings were drained after marriage in my efforts to curry favor with Yvette's family.

My dad scrutinized me for a long time to determine whether I was lying. Finally, he relented and transferred 20 thousand dollars to me without hesitation.

"Make sure you buy the best for your in-laws. Don't be stingy. If it's not enough, come back to me for more."

I sneered internally at his eagerness to please others. His behavior disgusted me.

In his world, everyone else mattered more than my mom and me.

When we were sick, he would complain about the expense and insist we tough it out, claiming money didn't come easy.

For over 20 years, he hadn't fulfilled even a shred of his responsibilities as a father, and he was utterly unworthy of the sacrifices my mom had made for this family.

However, he was generous regarding matters related to the Jenning family or Aunt Lexi and Jackson. And everyone thought he was such a great person.

The irony was suffocating.

With the money secured, I left without looking back.

I headed to the hospital and used the funds to cover some bills.

"How's the patient in bed 13?" I asked.

The nurse glanced at the report. "His condition has stabilized. He should wake up soon."

I thanked her and found the ward. Inside, a bearded man lay pale and still, with an oxygen mask over his face.

It was the disabled man I had seen by the grave earlier.

I walked over and adjusted his blanket. Just then, his eyelashes fluttered, and his eyes slowly opened.

Confused, he stared at me and asked weakly, "Where am I?"

"The hospital. You collapsed from a heart attack. If I hadn't brought you here in time, you'd likely be dead now, Uncle Benjamin."

Yes, this was my uncle—my mom's younger brother, about ten years older than me.

Looking at his haggard appearance, I couldn't understand what had happened to him. My family had been estranged from my maternal grandparents' side for years. I knew little about their affairs, only that they had disdained my dad for being a poor freeloader.

When my family struggled financially, my mom sought their help but was turned away. Later, when she passed away, none of them attended her funeral, so I severed ties with them.

I never thought I would see Uncle Benjamin like this—disabled and frail but still showing up at my mom's grave.

Yesterday, when he saw me, his eyes had reddened instantly, tears streaming silently as he choked out, "Why didn't you tell us that she's gone?"

I was astonished to see his tears streaming uncontrollably down his face, yet he looked as if he had no idea when my mom had passed away.

Before I could answer, he had clutched his chest, gasping in pain before collapsing.

"Uncle Benjamin!" I was startled at the time and quickly gave him nitroglycerin and got him to the hospital in time.

The doctor said it was a close call. In my previous life, Uncle Benjamin had died around this time. I hadn't attended his funeral, but I now realized I had inadvertently saved his life.

"Owen." Uncle Benjamin's hoarse voice broke my thoughts. "Why didn't you tell us your mom had passed away?"

I pursed my lips before replying, "She passed away over six months ago. I thought Dad would have told you, so I didn't reach out myself."

At first, I thought they were just holding a grudge against my family, unwilling to attend my mom's funeral. But to my surprise, they had no idea at all.

He tightly shut his eyes, his expression growing more painful. It seemed like he couldn't accept my mom's death.

In my shallow memories, Uncle Benjamin was a kind person.

When I was young, he always took me to play when we visited my grandfather's house. He would bring me along when hanging out with his friends and buy me all kinds of treats.

Back then, he was energetic, always scoring the most points when playing basketball with his friends. But as I grew older, we gradually drifted apart, and with some misunderstandings, we ended up like strangers.

"Uncle Benjamin, did something happen at Grandpa's house? How did you end up like this? What happened to your leg?"

Chapter 11 Regretting So Soon

Uncle Benjamin didn't say a word. I wasn't ready to give up, so I called him again. But he turned his back on me, clearly unwilling to talk.

I didn't push further. It wasn't like I was good at expressing emotions or mending family ties. Instead, I simply said, "The doctor mentioned your heart condition is serious. You need a full check-up soon and surgery as soon as possible. Don't delay it."

I grabbed the water bottle and headed to the water station.

The hospital's water station was right next to the doctors' lounge, and as I filled the water bottle, I overheard a conversation from the adjacent room.

"I've booked the ticket for next Monday. Don't worry. I'll take care of myself once I'm abroad."

Upon hearing that, I instinctively turned to look. There he was—the man standing tall in his white coat with a calm, refined demeanor. It was Yvette's prince charming. From the sound of it, he was leaving the country soon.

I froze. Memories of my past life came flooding back.

Yvette realized she couldn't live without him right after he left the country. That was when she finally decided—there was no turning back.

She left me, divorced me, and flew across the ocean to chase after him.

What was funny was that she was the one who helped orchestrate his opportunity to study abroad. She even attended business dinners to smooth things over for him.

I still remember one night when she came home complaining of stomach pain from all the drinking. And me? I stayed up all night taking care of her.

Yvette and I weren't so different after all. We were both pathetic, hopelessly devoted fools chasing after people who didn't care about us.

I was still in a daze when I heard him acknowledge softly, and the call ended abruptly.

He turned, and when he saw me, his expression changed drastically. "Watch out!"

Before I could process what was happening, a scalding pain jolted through my hand. The water bottle had overflowed, spilling boiling water onto my skin.

He reacted immediately, grabbing my hand and running it under cold water. His brows furrowed as he muttered, "You're lucky it's not serious, but you shouldn't let your mind wander when handling hot water."

Still in a daze, I looked at him. His voice was steady and professional, and I could feel the genuine care beneath it. "Come to my office. I have some ointment you should use."

I looked down at his nametag—Randall Caldwell.

Yvette loved this man wholeheartedly for her entire life, doing everything she could to help him.

A scene from my past life flashed in my mind. It was the moment they got engaged. She happily hugged Randall's slender waist, and he gently looked down at her.

Though the journey was difficult, they eventually ended up together.

"Alright, you need to apply this ointment a few times daily. You'll likely feel a slight burning sensation at night, so bear with it." He handed me the ointment and gave me a few instructions.

I stared at him, grateful. "Thank you, doctor."

I turned with the water bottle in hand and left his office. In a sense, we were rivals, but I had no desire to compete with him in my past life. I didn't even bother to learn his name back then, only remembering that cold, refined face.

This time, I had no intention of getting involved with him. The best strategy was to stay away from him and Yvette.

Back in the ward, Uncle Benjamin was as silent as before. I set the water bottle down and poured him a glass of water.

"Uncle Benjamin, have some warm water."

His face was buried in a thick beard, his gaze empty and lifeless. It was like he had already given up on everything.

Seeing this, I sighed. "I've saved my number in your phone. If anything comes up, call me immediately. As for the hospital bills, you don't need to worry. I'll take care of them."

I didn't know much about his life now, but judging by his patched-up clothes and how worn out he looked, he was clearly struggling. Maybe my grandfather had cast him out, just like my mom.

As I turned to leave, I suddenly felt a hand grab my wrist. I looked back, surprised to see Uncle Benjamin holding an emerald pendant.

His thumb brushed over the smooth surface several times before placing it firmly in my palm. "A gift for you."

I was stunned for a moment, then glanced at Uncle Benjamin. He closed his eyes again, seemingly not wanting to say anything more to me. But I could still feel the emerald pendant in my hand, warm with his body heat.

I could imagine that he'd been holding it for a long time, unable to figure out how to express himself.

A wave of emotion hit me, and my nose tinged with sadness. I lowered my head and gazed at the emerald pendant in my hand. Its texture was smooth and warm, clearly a fine piece of craftsmanship.

Throughout my life, aside from my mother, few people had ever truly cared for me. Yet, I could feel familial warmth in my silent, withdrawn, and seemingly worn-out uncle.

Despite his life seeming even more challenging than mine, he had given me such a precious emerald pendant as a gift...

…

I returned to Kenny's house, sat on the sofa, and carefully considered the situation with money.

Uncle Benjamin's heart disease was severe, yet no one was looking after him. Like my mom, I guessed he might have had a falling out with my grandfather.

Learning about my mom's death had struck him hard; it was clear he cared for her, and he wasn't unkind to me either. I couldn't just stand by and watch him repeat the mistakes of the past, dying young like in my previous life.

My dad, that miser, only knew how to ask me for money. He would never lend anything to my grandfather's family, especially considering how much disdain my grandfather showed him back then.

Seeing Uncle Benjamin in this condition, my dad would just mock him.

So, the only option left was to ask Yvette for money. It had been a year since I married her. I had been serving her like a housekeeper, enduring hardships without real reward.

All I needed were the hospitalization and surgery fees—just a little from her would be enough.

I was wondering how to approach her when I was startled by a mechanical female voice on the phone. "Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later…"

Was Yvette in a meeting?

I frowned. I knew Yvette well—her phone was always on and never set to silent except during meetings. Usually, I could reach her anytime, so why wasn't she answering this time?

I called again, seven or eight times in a row, all unanswered.

I began to doubt everything, cursing at the phone, "Why isn't she answering? Is she acting even worse than in my past life? Back then, she would just hang up on me, but now she ignored me completely. Damn woman!"

Finally, on the tenth call, it was answered.

I was so furious I could barely hold back my rage, only to hear her scoffing indifferently, her voice full of confidence. "Owen, regretting so soon?"

She must think I was calling to apologize and beg her to reconcile, huh?

I let out a cold, mocking laugh. "You're overthinking it. I'm calling to let you know that when we divorce, I expect two million as my settlement fee…"