My refusal hit Sharon like a spark to dry tinder.

"Tutoring just you is one thing," she protested, "but what's the harm in adding Harry and studying together? We're in the most critical phase of the year right now. Can't you think beyond yourself for once?"

Her glare was fierce and accusatory, forcing me to question the idealized view I had once held of her.

Sharon had been the undisputed star of our class—brilliant and proud, but so poor that she often went without proper meals.

I had no real love for studying myself, yet I hired her as a tutor and paid her far more than necessary, all to protect her pride and avoid making it feel like charity.

After graduation, I used my family's connections to get her an internship at my father's company and quietly arranged for her quick promotion to project manager.

After we got married, I handed her full control of the company, trusting her to manage it. And despite everything I did for her, Sharon still plotted to end my life.

There was no way I would make the same mistake again.

Harry looked up at me, his expression one of calculated vulnerability. "If I don't get into university, my father will force me into some dead-end factory job to support us. I really want to keep studying. Please, this would be like saving my life. I'll do anything to repay you."

Sharon's frustration boiled over. "Are you really trying to drive Harry to his death before you stop?"

I took several steps back, wanting distance from their escalating intensity, as if it could somehow contaminate me.

"What kind of talk is that?" I replied calmly. "A life like his is too important for me to take responsibility for."

I pulled out my phone and transferred $1,000 to Sharon's account. Her contact was still at the top of my list—a detail that now felt ominous.

"I've sent your payment for this month," I said evenly. "Our tutoring sessions are over now; there's no need for you to come back. Focus your energy on helping Harry. I won't interfere."

A look of pure glee crossed Harry's face, his eyes lighting up as he turned to Sharon. She ignored him completely, her focus locked on me. Her brows knitted together in disbelief.

"What were you saying?" she stammered. "You're ending the tutoring altogether?"

To make sure she understood, I explained clearly, "You're free from coming here anymore. Harry needs your full attention right now; without it, his chances of getting into university could fall apart."

"But I've been tutoring you for two years," she said. "Aren't you worried that stopping now will ruin your chances on the exams?"

"That's my problem to handle," I said coolly. "Take care."

In my previous life, even after all of Sharon's lessons right up to the end, I had still chosen to study abroad. My grades hadn't improved at all, and I was branded forever as the one who ruined Harry's life.

Looking back, I had been such a fool.

Sharon's hands shook at her sides, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists. Through gritted teeth, she said, "Fine. Don't regret this."

With that, she led Harry to storm out.

From that day on, Sharon made a point of tutoring Harry in the most conspicuous way possible.

The sounds of their sessions echoed through the classroom. Even with earplugs in, I could still make out snippets of it.

I had started studying on my own, but I was still working through the basics, carefully rebuilding my foundation from the ground up.

Harry seemed particularly irritated by my efforts. One afternoon, he sauntered over to my desk, holding a textbook freshly marked up with Sharon's highlights, and dangled it in front of me like a taunt.

"Josh, studying by yourself now? Making any real progress, or just staring at the pages?" he taunted. "I've got Sharon's latest notes right here. They could really help if you wanted to borrow them."

He paused, adding, "Oh, I almost forgot. She doesn't tutor you anymore. Guess these notes stay with me for now."

His voice had a sharp, grating edge that drew attention from nearly half the class. Even Sharon, who usually ignored the room's drama, glanced over with a disinterested look.

I rested my chin on my hand and regarded him with mild amusement. "You have time to worry about my habits? Maybe you should check your physics scores first—the ones still stuck in single digits."

Harry's face turned a deep red, a mix of embarrassment and anger twisting his features.

Sharon walked over and tapped on my desk. "Let's talk outside."

Before I could respond, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the hallway. Her lips were pressed into a thin line.

"If you can ignore Harry's comments," she said tightly, "I'll keep tutoring you, just like before."

Since I ended our arrangement, word had spread that she had returned to her part-time job at the school cafeteria. It seemed her money was running low again, and she was turning back to me for an easy fix.

Apparently, she still saw me as a bottomless source of handouts.

"No thanks," I refused flatly.

She gripped my shoulders, her eyes flickering with anger. "We were doing fine for two years! Is this because of how close Harry and I are? Are you jealous, or is this some kind of game to pull me back in?"

A small crowd had gathered at the classroom door, whispering and pointing as they watched the scene unfold.

Unwilling to make things physical, I tried to reason with her. "I'm serious. There is no need for your help anymore. Please let go."

Sharon's stare remained fixed on me, intense and unyielding, as if she could force the answer she wanted out of me. That obsessive look reminded me of how, in my past life, she had poisoned me and kicked me while I lay dying.

Her capacity for violence had been there all along. In my old life, my infatuation had blinded me to it, dismissing her flaws as passion.

A hand suddenly tapped Sharon's shoulder. "Hey, if he says he doesn't need your paid lessons anymore, isn't pushing him for money a bit desperate?"

I looked over and saw my deskmate, Liliane Hale, an unreachable beauty at our school.