Hearing the voice on the phone, I quickly snatched it away and hung up.

Sophia stared at the now-disconnected screen, sheer rage twisting her face. Her hand trembled, tears clinging to her lashes.

I clicked my tongue twice. Ronald's sharp tongue? He was being fairly polite today, honestly.

I pinched Sophia's chin, taking in the mix of hatred, fury, and those watery eyes staring back at me.

With a chill smile, I said, "Sophia, cut the drama. Don't mess with me."

She flushed, eyes wide with frustration and embarrassment, glaring at me like she wanted to eat me alive.

"You definitely told Ronald bad things about me, didn't you? Otherwise, he wouldn't treat me like this-I hate you!"

Then she gave me a shove and stormed off crying, full-on drama mode.

I took a couple of unsteady steps back, letting out a breathless laugh.

Seriously? No skills, no self-awareness, just dreaming of getting everything handed to her. And when things don't go her way, she blames everyone but herself. What a piece of work.

I didn't bother following her. Just headed downstairs. But before leaving the house, I made a quick stop by the study.

Thomas was there, fiddling with his computer, clearly busy with something.

Not thrilled to see me, he barely glanced up, just kept clicking away.

I walked right up to the table and got straight to the point. "Dad, I need some money."

His face instantly turned sour. Without even looking at me, he asked, "What for?"

"Ronald's mom's not feeling great lately. I wanna get her some health supplements."

As soon as I mentioned Lisa, his grumpy expression froze. He reached for his phone, about to transfer me some money, then suddenly paused.

"You don't have any money on you? Always running to me for cash."

I glanced at his moody face and answered calmly, "I'm broke. And come on, can't show up to my mother-in-law's place with cheap stuff, right?"

Truth is, I really didn't have any cash. Growing up, my dad barely gave me a cent. My mom helped now and then, but she didn't have control over the money either. So, since high school, I taught myself design and earned a bit on the side.

But yeah, I was the queen of dumb love. Whatever savings I had after marriage? All got poured into trying to please Ronald and his mom. Every last dime.

Thomas gave me this sharp, calculating look, clearly trying to figure out if I was lying. After a while, maybe deciding I wasn't faking it, he begrudgingly relented and transferred me ten grand without a fuss.

"Get something nice for your mother-in-law. Pick the expensive stuff, got it? If it's not enough, just ask for more."

I shot him a look of pure disgust. Nothing I hated more than that fake, bootlicking version of him. It made my skin crawl.

In his world, everyone else would always matter more than me or my mom.Whenever we got sick, he'd pinch every penny, always whining about how hard it was to make money, telling us to just tough it out.

For twenty-three years, he never once acted like a real dad. He never made up for how much my mom poured into this family.

But when it comes to the Wrights or Sophia and her mom, it's like he becomes a completely different person-generous like money grows on trees.

Everyone thinks he's such a great guy. What a joke.

I stared at the cash in my hand, eyes cold, no hesitation as I turned and walked away.

I took a cab to the hospital and paid the hospital fee at the reception.

"Bed 26, Richard Harrison-how's he doing now?" I asked.

The nurse glanced at the chart, "He's stable now, should wake up soon."

I gave a quick nod and found his room. Inside, a bearded man lay motionless on the bed, pale-faced, an oxygen mask over his nose.

That was the same man I saw by the gravestone yesterday-my uncle.

I walked over and pulled the blanket up for him just as his eyelashes trembled. Slowly, his eyes opened.

Disoriented, he looked around and tried hard to ask through chapped lips, "Where... am I?"

His face, unshaven and weary, looked like he'd been through hell. My gaze stayed flat, like something had burnt out inside me.

"You're in the hospital. You collapsed from a heart attack yesterday. If I hadn't gotten you here in time, you might not be alive now, Uncle Richard."

Yeah, this was my uncle-my mom's younger brother. Probably around ten or fifteen years older than me.

I hardly had any connection with my mom's family. I barely knew anything about them. In my last life, I thought they were cold, always looking down on my dad and our family just because they had money.

Even when we were struggling, they could've helped without blinking-but they didn't.

Then when my mom passed away, none of them even showed up for her funeral. I cut ties with them after that. Never saw or spoke to them again before I died in my previous life.

What really shocked me though-was yesterday, at my mom's grave.

This uncle of mine, crippled and all, actually dragged himself across the country just to see her.

When he saw me, his eyes went red, lips pressed together, tears falling one by one. Took him forever to squeeze out just one line:

"She's gone... why didn't anyone tell us?"

I didn't know what to say. I didn't expect that kind of emotion from him-raw, painful. Nothing cold or distant about it.

But what hit me most was realizing he really didn't know she'd been gone for over six months.

Just as I was about to respond, he suddenly clutched his chest, gasping, then passed out in pain.

"Uncle Richard!" I shouted, panic bursting through me as I rushed to give him emergency meds and called for help.

Thank God I got him to the hospital in time. The doctor said if I'd been even a little later, they wouldn't have been able to save him.

Funny thing is, in my past life, he passed away early-I didn't make it to his funeral, but I vaguely remember it happened around this time too.

So. I accidentally saved Uncle Richard's life?

"Isabella." Richard Harrison's voice was rough and low, pulling me back from my thoughts. I looked over and saw him staring at me, eyes bloodshot, face full of grief. His voice sounded like he was holding back everything.

"When. when did she pass? What was it? Why didn't anyone tell us?"

I pressed my lips together and explained, "Half a year ago. It was an illness. I thought Dad told you all, so I didn't mention it again."

Back then, I'd assumed they were just holding a grudge and didn't care enough to come to Mom's funeral.

Turns out. they had no idea.

Richard closed his eyes tightly. I could clearly see the tears sliding down his face. His lips were trembling-he looked completely broken.

In that instant, he seemed older, years older. My chest tightened with guilt.

In my vague childhood memories, Uncle Richard was really good to me.

Whenever we went to Grandpa's house, he always played with me patiently. He was tall and strong and had a clean, handsome face. I loved sitting on his shoulders pretending to ride a horse. He'd always lift me up and run around, making me laugh so hard.

Grandpa would scold him constantly for that, but Uncle Richard just grinned and brushed it off, saying he'd keep me safe, no problem. I had such a good impression of him.

But after I grew up, we drifted apart. Some misunderstandings came up. In the end, we basically became strangers.

"Uncle Richard. did something happen back at Grandpa's place? What's going on with your leg?"

He didn't respond. I called him again, not ready to give up.

But Richard just turned away without a word. The silence said it all. I guessed maybe he had a falling-out with Grandpa, felt awful, wanted to see Mom. then found out she was gone.

I didn't push him. With people like me who aren't close with anyone in the family, I honestly didn't know what to say.

Instead, I just said, "The doctor said your heart problem is serious. You should get a full check-up and schedule the surgery soon. It can't wait too long."

With that, I grabbed the electric kettle and stepped out to get some hot water.

The doctor's office was right next to the break room.

As I filled the kettle, I caught the sound of someone talking on the phone inside.

"Mom, it's next Monday's flight. Don't worry! Once I'm abroad, I'll focus and get my grades up."

The word "abroad" made my ears perk up. Instinctively, I turned to look-and there she was. Wearing a white coat, all smiles and sweet voice.

Ronald's precious first love.

She was leaving the country.

I froze. My gaze went blank.

And suddenly, memories from the past life rushed in.

It was after she left the country that Ronald realized he couldn't let her go.

That was when he dropped everything. and chased after her.

The funny thing is, that chance to go abroad? Ronald pulled strings for her. He even had to drink at some dinner just to make it happen. When he got home, he clutched his stomach and said his stomach hurt. And me? I stayed up all night taking care of him like an idiot.

We were both simps-just not for each other. I was simping for him, and he was off simping for someone else.

Still spacing out, I heard that female doctor laugh and say, "Got it, no worries. Bye!"

Then she opened the door and walked out. The moment she spotted me, her face changed. "Watch out!"

Before I could react, a sharp stinging pain hit my right hand.

The hot water spilled over. I winced, frowning from the burn.

She quickly grabbed my hand and held it under cold water. Her brows furrowed with concern.

"You really shouldn't zone out when handling hot water. It's dangerous."

"Thankfully, it doesn't look too bad. I've got some ointment in my office. I'll put some on for you-it might sting a little, but you should be fine by tomorrow."

I stared at her. Her voice was incredibly gentle. So were her movements. Then I glanced down and caught her name on the badge-Grace Mills.

Grace. Like the clearing after a storm.

She was just like her name: calming, kind, like sunshine after the rain. No wonder Ronald had been hopelessly devoted to her, willing to give up everything just to help her out.

I couldn't help but remember their engagement in my previous life-Ronald looking at her with such deep affection, and Grace smiling like she was genuinely happy. Despite all the drama, they ended up together after all.

"Okay, the redness is going down," Grace's soft voice pulled me back. Her clean, natural face came into view as she smiled and added, "Wait here, I'll grab the burn ointment."

I looked at her, steady and grateful. "Thank you."

She walked back into her office to get the cream, but I didn't wait for her. I grabbed the kettle and went back to the hospital room.

Grace was technically my romantic rival, but I never had it in me to go against her--didn't even remember her name before, only that pretty, innocent face.

In this life, I had even less reason to pick a fight. Steering clear of her and Ronald was hands down the smarter move.

Back in the room, it was still quiet. I set the kettle down and poured a glass of water for my uncle.

"Uncle Richard, have some water."

Richard was silent. His beard covered most of his gaunt face, and his eyes looked dull, lifeless, like water left still for too long.

I sighed.

"I saved my number in your phone, okay? If anything comes up, just call me."

"And don't stress over the money. I'll find a way."

To be real with myself, Richard didn't look like someone who had money stashed somewhere. I had a strong suspicion he got kicked out of the family for being broke and jobless.

Right as I was about to walk out, he suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind.

I turned around-and saw it in his hand.

A watch. Slim, silver, classic. I hadn't even seen him take it off.

He looked at it for a second, rubbed the face with his thumb, and then, without saying much, pressed it into my palm.

"A little something," he said. "For seeing each other again."

I froze for a second and glanced at my uncle. He had closed his eyes again, clearly not planning to say anything else. But when I touched the watch, it felt warm.

He must've held it tightly for a long time, struggling with how to give it to me.

My nose stung a little as I lowered my head to look at it. The leather strap was worn, the dial slightly scratched-but the weight, the make. it was the kind of thing you don't just give away.

Growing up, aside from my mom, barely anyone truly cared for me. Yet from this uncle who barely spoke and lived like he'd already given up on life. I felt something close to real family warmth.

He looked worse off than I did, yet he still gave me something valuable as a welcome gift...

When I got back to Emma' place, she still wasn't home. I flopped onto the bed, spread out like a starfish, lost in thoughts about my uncle.

His heart condition was serious, and there was no one looking after him. I guessed, like Mom, he probably had a falling-out with Grandpa too.

After hearing about Mom's death, it must've hit him hard. Clearly, Uncle Richard cared about her-about me too. I can't just sit around while he goes down the same path as before-dying young.

But the problem is, heart surgery costs a fortune. I lost that job because Ronald messed things up for me. Now I'm jobless-where am I supposed to find that kind of money?

Forget asking my dad. If I hadn't used the excuse of buying something for Ronald's mom, he wouldn't have given me a dime-even if I was starving or dying.

Besides, the grudge between him and Grandpa's side of the family? Uncle Richard used to get side-eyed all the time. Now that he's struggling, Grandpa's more likely to sit back and laugh than offer help.

Then, a thought hit me. I grabbed my phone and dialed Ronald. Maybe I could meet him tomorrow.

We've been married a year. Even if I've been totally useless, I've cooked for him all year. Asking him to cover my uncle's surgery-just consider it payment for being a full-time wife, is that too much?

While I was working out how to bring it up, a robotic voice came on: "Sorry, the person you're calling isn't available right now. Please try again later..."

Really?

I frowned. I know Ronald. He hates missing work calls. He never puts his phone on silent-not even in the shower. So now, suddenly, I can't reach him?

In my last life, except the day I died, he never ignored my calls.

I called seven or eight times in a row-nothing.

I started doubting my life choices right there, staring at my phone and muttering, "Unbelievable. Ronald, you're even worse than your past self. Last time you just hung up quickly-now you won't even pick up? Scumbag."

Finally, on the tenth try, he answered.

My jaw clenched. Then I heard him chuckle and say smugly, "Isabella, regretting it now?"

Ha. He really thought I was calling to beg?

I let out a cold laugh. "You're full of yourself. I called to let you know, when we get that divorce, I want a million dollars in severance-"

A scoff came from the other end of the line, followed by that unmistakable cool, aristocratic voice in my ear.

"Isabella, you wrote in the divorce agreement yourself that you'd leave without taking a dime."

"And look at you now - first it's mental distress, now it's a breakup fee. All this drama, just for money, isn't it?"

"Admitting you're materialistic is that hard?"

Even over the phone, I could picture Ronald with that smug smirk, eyes full of arrogance.

I narrowed my eyes, voice ice-cold. "Materialistic? Ronald, give it a rest. You never say anything nice.

"I'm not in the mood to argue. Think whatever you want, but that breakup fee? You're paying it."

"And why on earth should I?" he shot back, tone chilly as ever.

I clenched my teeth. "Because for the past year, I've been cooking your meals and picking out your clothes.

"Yeah, you make money - good for you. But I wasn't freeloading either. I ran every corner of that house, took care of your family. Hiring a full-time housekeeper would've cost you. I was more than that, and now I'm asking for some compensation. Seems fair, no?"

That's just this lifetime. If we count the last one too, I served him like a full-time maid for six years. Asking for a mere million... I'd say I'm still coming out short.

Ronald didn't care - his voice was calm, almost bored. "That's what a wife is supposed to do. You want a medal for that?"

I felt like my cheeks were burning. Nothing is more humiliating than having to ask someone for money. I didn't even want to in the first place. But my uncle is seriously ill and needs the money. I have no choice.

"Sure, a wife should care for her husband. But a husband's supposed to look after his wife too, isn't he? Have you ever taken care of me even once? Honestly, if it weren't for me, your stomach would've been a wreck ages ago from your junk food habits.

"Let's put it this way - I cooked, I cleaned, stayed on your mom's good side, and kept the peace at home. Given all that, can't you be even the tiniest bit decent in our divorce?"

He went quiet for a few seconds before speaking again, voice low and emotionless. "So what's your point?"

"My point?" I chuckled dryly. "My point is - fork over the money, and I'll disappear from your life completely. You'll never see me again. Deal?"

Ronald sneered. "Funny, your dad already called me. Said something about his company launching a new project. Sound familiar? You're suddenly begging for a divorce. not 'cause of love or pride, but because you're after the money, right?

"I'll give him the money. But you? You're going to attend one family dinner with me."

My face fell instantly.

So my dad had gone behind my back and talked to Ronald. I'd told him I'd handle it on my own. Guess he didn't trust me after all.

I didn't respond, and Ronald's deep voice came through again, cold as ever.

"Grandpa likes you. As long as you show up at the dinner, I'll fund your dad's project. That way you can go back to him with something to prove. Stop with the tantrums and divorce talk."

Jeffrey Wright really did like me.

The old man was still spry despite his years, had that sage-like aura about him. He was the only one in the Wright family who treated me kindly.

He'd even brought Ronald along in person to propose the marriage. Said I was graceful, smart, and perfect for his grandson.

He promised, too - if Ronald ever bullied me, I could go straight to him and he'd take care of it.

And Ronald definitely bullied me. I just never had the courage to speak up back then.

"And what if I don't go?" I asked flatly, throwing the question at him with more than a hint of challenge.Ronald's voice was calm and cold. "This past year, how many times have you begged me to help your dad? Tell me, when have I ever said no?"

"If you add it all up, it's easily over a million. That still can't buy you a ticket to one family dinner with me? Who do you think you are?"

I fell silent.

Honestly, he wasn't wrong. My dad did shamelessly ask for money like it was his birthright, and Ronald always stepped up. As a son-in-law, he did his job. Even as a husband, he never crossed the line. Just... he never loved me. So when I got hurt, he didn't care enough to lift a finger.

And me? I wasn't exactly innocent either. We were a business match, and both families profited from it. But feelings? Once mixed with benefits, even real ones feel fake.

"Fine," I agreed lightly. "From now on, don't worry about my dad. Whatever trouble he gets into, that's on him. But I want one million for the divorce. If you agree, I'll go with you to the dinner."

He gave a low, mocking laugh. "Whatever. I'll pick you up tomorrow."

"Okay. I won't be at home, I'm at-" I was about to give the address when he cut in, straight-faced. "Emma's place."

I was stunned. "How do you know that? Were you following me?"

He scoffed again. "Don't flatter yourself. You're broke, didn't go back to your parents' place, can't afford a hotel. Where else would you go?"

Was he seriously looking down on me again?

My face flushed with anger. I gritted my teeth and snapped, "Ronald, we're partners now. Try watching that tone next time."

He knew Emma was my only close friend. I had mentioned her after we got married, though not the fallout we had. because of him. Him figuring it out wasn't surprising, but it still stung.

"Mm." He responded so casually, like it didn't matter at all.

I was so angry I could scream. And when I finally calmed down, I cursed myself again.

Being a simp is bad enough, but being one for someone who's rich, powerful, smart, and completely out of reach? That's just pathetic.

He could crush me financially, look down on me, and still be ten steps ahead in every move. Every piece of me was in his hands-what pride could I even cling to?

In my past life, how was I ever this blind? But if he really was useless, I wouldn't have fallen so fast for him either.

I took a breath. "Come pick me up at ten tomorrow."

"Okay."

Thing is, there was a dinner just like this one in my last life too. And boy, did his mom tear me apart at that one.

She shamed me for not being able to have kids, called me worthless in front of everyone, and just wouldn't let it go.

I didn't fight back. I kept smiling, kept trying to please her-because I loved Ronald, and I thought loving him meant loving his family.

But she just got nastier. Verbal abuse wasn't enough. She actually forced me to drink some weird herbal stuff in front of everyone. Pinched my face and poured it down my throat.

That scene still burns in my memory-his cold family watching like I was some circus act. And Ronald? Just stood there like an outsider, eyes blank, doing nothing. I still made excuses for him back then, thought he just didn't want to argue with his mom.

Now, in this life, I've already clashed with her once. And tomorrow, I know she'll go even harder.

Just thinking about all that made my chest tighten. I suddenly wanted to ask.

To Ronald, what the hell do I even mean?

He married me-doesn't he feel even the tiniest bit of love?

I was just about to speak when a sweet voice chimed in from behind, "Mr. Wright, where did you put the medicine? Your stomach's acting up again-you can't keep ignoring it."