Dax Taylor had loved me for ten years. Yet, three years into our marriage, he was the one who cheated. Watching him parade that flirtatious woman around as though I were the punchline of our social circle, I decided to let him have what he wanted.

The day I walked out clutching my divorce papers, his voice was laced with regret about the past: "If I could go back to when I was seventeen, I wouldn't fall for you like a lovesick fool."

None of us expected that one day, we might actually be seventeen again. Even more terrifying was the realization that the person I truly loved was never him.

---

Outside the courthouse, I stood holding the freshly issued divorce papers. Next to me was the man who now seemed like a stranger, visibly relieved to be free.

Three years ago, when Dax and I got married, he was ecstatic, eagerly flaunting our union across all his social media. He said marrying me was a wish he had made when he was seventeen. Not long after, he had edged closer with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, whispering if we could rip up the marriage certificate. Tearing it up, he claimed, meant we'd be together forever. At the time, he was already the CEO of a public company, yet he still said such naive things. Naive, wasn’t it?

Three years later, he repeated the sentiment. But now, the missing marriage certificate meant endless bureaucracy to finalize the divorce. Even during the intense heatwave, all he cared about was rushing through the paperwork to get away. He didn't care that it was also my time of the month, a time that was always difficult for me, something he once paid attention to.

After ten years together, how could he not know how I struggled during those times? But now, he was only interested in justifying himself to another woman. "If you ever need any help, you can still reach out," Dax said, turning his head slightly towards me, the divorce papers still visible on his phone.

I gave a bitter smile. "Are you planning to broadcast the divorce papers on all your platforms too?"

He dropped his smile, impatience creeping into his voice. "Don't make a scene. Octavia, you have to let everyone have room to regret." I smirked, offering no response. Yes, he had loved me for seven years before we married, and we were married for three. Ten long years, and now he claimed to regret it. He felt he had squandered those years loving me wholeheartedly.

He had been reminded of his own ten years by the woman behind him, also our high school friend, who had harbored feelings for him since then. Her ten years made Dax reflect on his own. While he pursued me, someone else had been longing for him. It was hard not to be moved.

"So, that's why we divorced," I said, looking at him with a faint smile. "You have your chance to regret; you're free now." I took a deep breath, willing myself to leave first, not wanting to be the one left behind again.

"Octavia, the love you gave was truly stingy," Dax suddenly called after me, emotions I couldn't fathom in his eyes.

There was no need to respond, so I stayed silent. The darkness in his eyes faded, leaving only a faint detachment. He curled his lips into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes: "Octavia, if we could go back to being seventeen, I wouldn't love you like a fool again."

Fate can be quite amusing; it's like it’s designed to challenge us or reveal hidden truths. I've returned to being seventeen, starting my junior year of high school. My memories linger at the moment I heard Dax Taylor's words. The courage I had been gathering suddenly dissolved. I wanted to say a proper goodbye, but as soon as I turned away, I could taste the salty tang of tears on my lips.

So, when a car appeared suddenly from the side, I didn't react quickly enough. The last thing I heard was Dax's desperate cries behind me. Dax... I instinctively glanced to the side. But that spot, it was empty now. Dax's new seat was across the aisle from mine. When I looked at him, he quickly looked away, as if afraid any association with me would linger. It seemed he had come back too. Perhaps to stand by his words, to distance himself from me. From being my desk partner, he had become just another classmate separated by an aisle.

"Octavia, did you hear? Dax Taylor is planning to confess to someone," said the bubbly girl with pigtails in front of me, Capri Perkins, winking playfully. It was no secret that Dax liked me. I clenched my test paper tightly, forcing a smile, and responded casually. But Capri wasn't satisfied with my reaction. She pouted and asked, "Aren't you surprised?"

Surprised by what? The first thing he does after turning seventeen again is to stop acting like a love-struck fool over me. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back down. I gestured to the empty seat next to me and said, "He's not confessing to me; he's already moved away." Capri looked puzzled and was about to say something when Dax's carefree voice suddenly echoed from the corridor.

A delicate pink gift box sat on his desk. Amidst the teasing of our classmates, he finally spoke up. "Yeah, I like Josie from the next class. Is there a problem with that?" The teasing abruptly stopped.

"Look, this is obviously for—" the guy in front of me had just placed the pink gift box on my desk, his smile freezing on his face the next moment. "Dax, this—"

The guy stood awkwardly beside me, glancing uneasily at Dax. Dax cast a quick look in my direction, got up, and casually retrieved the gift box from my desk. He remarked offhandedly, "My friend made a mistake; he gave it to the wrong person. It won't happen again."