"Stay away from her. If I ever catch you messing with her, I swear, your life's gonna be hell."

Those words hit like a slap in the face. So that's how he sees me? Just some crazy, jealous woman from the start?

I glared at his cold, handsome face, biting back my bitterness. "Wow, not only are your ears broken, but your brain's probably fried too. If I wanted to hurt her, would I really blow up my own game like that?"

"I'm done arguing with you. Tired, honestly. Just want to make it clear-I'm getting out of this marriage. I'll explain things to Grandpa, won't drag you into it, but you better think this through."

Then I pulled my hand free and went straight upstairs, not even bothering to clean up the dishes.

A loud door slam followed a few beats later. Ronald must've stormed out.

I let out a long, tired sigh. Even after coming back to life, his words still cut deep. Thank god it's just a sting now, not like last time-when it tore me apart.

I downed my medicine and got ready to lie down and clear my head. Just as I settled in, my phone lit up.

It was my mother-in-law. I pressed my lips together and picked up. "Hello? Lisa."

Her loud, energetic voice blasted through. "Isabella, have you been taking those herbal remedies I got you? And the other natural stuff?"

I stared at the pile of untouched herbs in the corner, still wrapped up. "Yep, almost all gone."

Lisa Wright immediately perked up. "Really? Any signs yet? Feeling different? Could be pregnant?"

I sighed. A whole year of marriage and she's been on my back about a baby since day one.

With the divorce around the corner, I really didn't want more drama. "Lisa, pregnancy depends on fate too, right? If it's not meant to be, can't really force it."

I tried to explain nicely, hoping she'd drop it. But of course, no such luck.

"Don't give me that 'fate' nonsense. Isabella, get real. Look at yourself-looks, background, skills-what part of you even matches up to my son?

"I only agreed to this marriage so you'd give us a baby. You think you're some kind of princess now?

"If you're just going to sit there like a broken machine, then step aside. Plenty of women are dying for a shot at this family."

Her rant finally pushed me past my breaking point.

I used to be the perfect daughter-in-law for her-ultra polite, super obedient. I even treated her better than my own mom. She humiliated me constantly about not getting pregnant. But I put up with it, all for Ronald.

But now? Don't even want Ronald anymore. Why the hell should I care what she thinks?

"You think having a baby is up to me alone? Ever use your brain and take a good look at your precious son?

"Yeah, he's got the looks, the family, the job. but too bad he can't even get it up.

"Been married a year and I'm still a virgin. How do you expect a baby when your son's thing can't even function?

"You want a grandkid so bad? Want me to find someone else and pop one out for you? Hell, I'd do it-question is, dare you take that baby in?"

Dead silence. Guess she didn't expect me to clap back.

"You-you're vulgar! Can't have a baby and now you talk back too?"

I let out a cold laugh. Classic Lisa-can dish it but sure can't take it.

"I said it already-your son's the one with the problem."

"You've got all this time to nag me with tonics and baby talk, maybe go take your boy to the doctor. And while you're at it, get your brain checked too."I hung up right after I finished talking and even switched off my phone, then flopped onto the bed with a big sigh and rolled around like a kid.

Man, this feels so damn good.

Getting divorced really does feel like freedom unlocked. Once you give up caring, life gets a whole lot easier.

From now on, anyone who wants to put up with this kind of crap can go right ahead-count me out.

After an exhausting day, I passed out quickly. When I woke up, it was already ten at night.

I went downstairs. The whole villa was pitch dark, like I expected-Ronald didn't plan on coming back, just like last time around.

I smirked, not surprised at all. Quietly, I cleaned up the dishes and made myself a fancy dinner.

I'm never starving myself again for someone else. That's just plain stupid.

After I finished eating, I packed my stuff without a second thought and left the place I'd once poured my heart into. I checked into a hotel for the time being.

Tomorrow's big-I've got divorce to handle, and another super important thing I can't afford to mess up.

Success only, no plan B.

Next morning, I was woken up by a call from Ronald.

"Isabella!" he practically growled through his teeth, "What did you say to my mom last night?"

Still half out of it, I rubbed my head and tried to recall the chat I'd had with his dear mother. and before I could help it, I burst out laughing.

"Didn't you already get the memo? Why bother asking?"

"Oh right, any idea when your mom wants to drag you in for a check-up?"

He didn't respond right away, but I could easily picture him-face dark, probably throwing death glares.

Sure enough, he finally spoke again, voice low and chilly.

"Isabella, save your tricks. Doesn't work on me. I'm not interested in sleeping with you."

I stretched lazily and turned over, completely relaxed.

"Please. Don't flatter yourself. I'm not dying to sleep with you either."

He snorted coldly. "Let's hope it stays that way. Where are you? And why the hell isn't breakfast ready?"

I snapped my eyes open, grinding my teeth.

This guy treats me like garbage but still expects me to cook for him like clockwork?

Not gonna lie, I used to care way too much-Ronald never liked breakfast, and I was so worried about his stomach I busted my ass learning how to cook right. Irony? I ended up with the digestive issues.

We might've had a dead marriage, but he actually loved my cooking. I used to take that as a sign, that maybe deep down he still cared.

Now I know better. He saw me as his full-time, live-in maid.

Well, news flash-I'm done cooking for him. For good.

He must've gotten impatient waiting for my reply.

"You gonna answer or what?"

I said flatly, "Go to the second floor. There's something on the table."

A moment later, I heard him coming up the stairs. His voice, cold and annoyed, followed.

"Why are you being so difficult lately? I say one thing, you do the opposite. And why is breakfast on the second floor? You know I always eat on the-"

His footsteps suddenly stopped. So did his rant.

It was like he just vanished into thin air.

There was a long pause on the other end before Ronald spoke again, voice sharp and heavy.

"Isabella. what's with the divorce agreement?"

Before leaving last night, I left two copies of the papers on the table. No point dragging this mess on.

In my head, I could almost imagine his face right now-tight-jawed, and probably looking like he swallowed a lemon.

I felt strangely calm. Honestly? Even kind of proud.

"Exactly what it looks like. I've signed it already. Don't worry-I'm walking away with nothing. Not a cent from you."

"From now on, you go your way, I'll go mine. Marriage over. Let's make sure we never see each other again."

The air suddenly turned eerily silent, then came a cold sneer. Ronald's voice was low and tight, like he was forcing the words through clenched teeth.

"Isabella, don't come crying later."

I stayed calm. From the moment the idea formed in my head, I'd pictured this scene over and over.

Whatever he said, I was ready.

"Relax. I don't go back on decisions. Just sign the divorce papers, and let's pick a date. Today's Thursday..."

Before I could finish, the man just hung up.

"...Seriously?"

Unbelievable. That guy hangs up like it's his hobby.

I glanced at the time. Not like I had time to deal with divorce today anyway-had something way more important to do. Divorce could totally wait till tomorrow.

I got up, freshened up quickly, grabbed my keys, and sped off. Eventually, I parked by the roadside, watching rows of stores lined up closely. My heart was pounding hard.

It was blazing hot, typical of midsummer. Even with the AC running, the air felt suffocating inside the car.

After three whole hours, a guy and a girl finally showed up down the street, and my eyes lit up instantly.

They were here.

I waited until they entered a nearby café before getting out and following them in.

They sat across from each other, and I picked a not-so-obvious corner, quietly watching.

The girl wore a pink dress, her eyes shiny and full of life as she chatted animatedly.

The guy? Mr. Perfect on the surface-well-mannered, polite, every move seemed just right.

If I hadn't lived through all this once already, I'd never guess what he was about to do.

The girl got up and headed to the bathroom. Pretty soon after she left, Mr. Polite's smile dropped.

He kept glancing toward the bathroom while pulling out a tiny bottle from his pocket.

I clenched my fist, quickly took out my phone, aimed the camera at him.

He twisted the cap open, poured the clear liquid into the coffee with practiced ease, and even stirred it a bit. Like it was just sugar or something.

Then he shoved the bottle away like nothing happened and calmly waited.

She came back. He stood up to greet her all enthusiastically, even pushed her coffee gently towards her.

She smiled and nodded, just about to take a sip-

"Didn't you tell me never to drink something that's been left alone? Forgot already?"

I walked over with my phone in hand, voice casual and unhurried.

Both of them looked over. The moment our eyes met, the girl froze, biting her lip.

"Isabella? What the heck are you doing here?"

I looked at her beautiful face, and it just hurt. "Been a while, huh, Emma?"

Emma's tone had a bite to it. "Where's your Mr. Wright? Weren't you glued to him 24/7? What, finally bored enough to go out and play?"

I didn't snap back. Not even a little.

Emma's been my best friend since forever-honest, kind, and full of life.

Last year, we fell out badly. I was marrying Ronald, and she thought I was blinded by love. Said it'd be a mistake, that I'd just end up a pathetic pushover.

Looking back. she wasn't wrong. I even went pro at it-top-tier simping.

In my past life, I was too stubborn to listen. For some clueless guy, I threw away the best friend I had.

She passed away before we ever made up.The guy who ruined her life? That's him-sitting right across from her. Harry Johnson. Her coworker. In the last life, he drugged and assaulted her, then used nude photos and videos to blackmail her into staying with him. Over time, the pressure drove Emma Lewis to the edge. She developed severe depression and finally took her own life by jumping off a building. I still remember how messed up I was at her funeral-regret and guilt eating me alive.

Not this time. I'm not letting it happen.

I didn't hesitate to plop down beside Emma and wrapped an arm around her shoulder like I owned the place.

"Who does he think he is? I want to come out and chill-what's wrong with that?"

"But you, dude," I said, giving Harry a hard stare, "you're not even worth being called a person."

Harry's expression darkened instantly. "Excuse me, miss? Who even are you? And what gives you the right to come up here insulting people?"

I didn't bother playing nice. I let out a cold laugh. "You really don't know? After what you just did? Come on, you think no one sees through your little act?"

A flash of panic crossed his face, but he still tried to act cool.

"Emma, do you know her? Her mouth's out of control. If she doesn't start showing some respect, I'm seriously gonna get mad."

Emma's face changed. She looked at Harry, then back at me. Even after all this time, the trust between us hadn't gone away.

"Isabella, what happened just now?"

Silently, I pulled up the video on my phone and handed it over.

As Emma watched, her brows furrowed tighter and tighter, her face grim.

Harry noticed what I was doing and seemed to realize he was screwed. He shot up from his seat, trying to bolt. But before he could even get up all the way, Emma slapped him. Hard.

"You absolute scum! You tried to drug me?!"

Harry stood there dazed, then his face twisted in fury. He raised a hand to strike back-but before he could even get close, I whipped out some pepper spray and blasted him straight in the eyes.

"Touch Emma and you're done for!"

We caused enough commotion that the cafe staff and bystanders jumped in right away. They helped us pin Harry down and called the cops.

Even though the police showed up really fast, by the time they arrived, Harry looked like he'd been hit by a truck-bloody nose, busted lip, the whole deal.

After we finished giving statements, Emma and I went straight home.

As soon as we walked through the door, Emma wrapped me in a tight hug and started crying.

"I still can't believe it, Isabella. He looked so normal, but he was a monster. Thank god you showed up. If you hadn't... I don't even wanna think about it."

"It's over now," I said, gently rubbing her back. My own eyes brimmed with tears. Today, we rewrote her fate. She wasn't going to be another tragedy-not anymore.

Relief swept through me. I'd lost her once, but not again. And if I could save Emma's future... maybe I could save my own too.

Emma pulled back, our eyes meeting. We both seemed to remember that heated argument years ago-both red-faced and stubborn.

We burst out laughing.

She tugged me toward the couch, wiped away one of my tears. "So tell me, how have you been this past year?"

I shook my head honestly.

She looked instantly pissed. "Wait-what happened? Is Ronald being a jerk again?"

Before I could answer, she narrowed her eyes. "If you're just here after some couple's fight, don't even think about crashing with me. I'm not wasting my breath just for you to go running back again. I'm officially anti-simp from now on, got it?"

I chuckled despite myself. That's Emma-same in this life and the last. She can't stand anyone being a slave to love.

"My simp phase is over, I swear. In fact, Ronald and I are divorcing. Paperwork's already in the works."

Emma's jaw almost hit the floor.

"Wait, seriously? You're actually walking away from Ronald? But you always said you'd be obsessed with him forever just based on how good-looking he is!"

Ronald really was good-looking-as in, annoyingly so. Fair skin, sharp features, those deep, misty eyes made him look like he walked straight out of a moody indie film.

Back in my previous life, I did love him my whole damn life. Not even exaggerating.

I looked at Emma and said plainly, "People do dumb stuff when they're young. He's got someone he likes now-no point holding on."

Emma exploded, "Hold up, are you saying that jerk cheated on you?!"

I shook my head. "It's not really cheating. He liked her before we got married."

The truth was, I just found out too late. And from what I know, during the four years we were married, he didn't cross any lines. His so-called dream girl? She liked someone else. He might've chased her, but at least he didn't go full homewrecker. The last year? Well, we were constantly at each other's throats and I got sick. honestly, no clue what happened then.

Emma's face turned red with rage. "That makes it even worse! He's into someone else, still married you, and then spent the whole marriage acting like someone's backup dancer? What the hell! Classic simp behavior-disgusting."

I gave her a look. "."

She suddenly covered her mouth, those wide dark eyes bouncing to me. "I wasn't talking about you. Actually, you've finally woken up from the simp spell, haven't you?"

I smiled, gave her shoulder a playful nudge. "You're right to be mad. From now on, if someone's not important to me, I'm not gonna bother investing in them."

If someone doesn't love me, they'll leave eventually. The ones who do? They'll stay, maybe even come closer. So I'll just save my energy for the ones who matter. The rest? Whatever.

Emma reached out, ruffled my hair, sighing. "Good. But really, is that the only reason you're divorcing Ronald? Or is there more?"

I casually said I didn't love him anymore, and Emma scoffed. "You think I'm buying that, or that I've got a better shot at winning a million-dollar lottery today?"

I chuckled helplessly. But yeah, it was the truth.

"Not that I'm totally over it. I did love him for a long time. But now? Not gonna fall for him again."

Emma raised her brows. "You were only together a year. How's that a 'long time love'?"

That caught me off guard-I had nothing to say. Luckily, she didn't push it and just threw an arm around my shoulder.

"Doesn't matter. As long as you're finally out of that mess with Ronald, I'm happy.

"There are tons of guys out there. Pretty sure all of them are better than him. Plus, you've got me. I've got your back from now on."

She made me laugh again. "Okay, guess I'm depending on you to feed me now."

Emma suddenly turned serious. "So, what's your plan now?"

I thought about it. "Find a job. Build my career. Actually live my life."

Her whole face lit up with excitement.

"Finally! Took you long enough to stop wasting your talent."

"You used to top every class-left me and the rest of us in the dust. All the teachers thought you were gonna be some bigshot one day."

"And look at you, throwing yourself at Ronald like he was the only tree in the forest. Totally buried your potential. It still ticks me off. but hey, enough of that. I actually know someone hiring in your field. I'll take you to meet him tomorrow."

"Sounds good." I agreed happily. I didn't want Ronald's money anyway. Not like he'd give me any. Once we divorced, my income would be cut off, so getting a job fast was the smart move.

Emma and I kept chatting nonstop, catching up on the year we'd been apart. Eating, drinking, just like old times-neither of us wanted to go to sleep.

We only wrapped it up because of the meeting tomorrow. Just before we went back to our rooms, Emma suddenly asked softly, "Isabella, do you still talk to Jordan?"

The second she said his name, I flinched. My chest tightened like someone had stuffed it full of cotton.

Jordan. a name I hadn't heard in a very, very long time.Emma let out a sigh. "If it hadn't been for him back then, you wouldn't have ended up marrying Ronald, and maybe you wouldn't have been so miserable. If he finds out you're getting divorced."

She trailed off before finishing, and I didn't pick up the thread, just sat there in silence.

Emma quickly realized she'd touched a nerve and immediately changed the subject, then left the room to go to bed.

I headed back to my room too, but couldn't sleep at all. Ended up lying awake till dawn. Just as I dozed off, my phone rang like crazy and jolted me awake.

I clenched my jaw, not even glancing at the screen before answering. "Who the hell's calling this early?!"

A low voice came through the receiver, tense and rushed. "Isabella, where are you?"

Ronald?

My sleepy brain snapped awake instantly. One glance at the clock-5:30 AM-and I was burning.

"Ronald, have you completely lost it? What's so damn urgent so early in the morning?"

There was a pause. Then he said, "I had this dream. you were hurting yourself. And then. you died. It was awful."

Wow. My fists tightened. "What, have you been wishing I'd drop dead so often that it's messing with your dreams now? And even if I really died, what-are you gonna revive me with a phone call?"

Back in my past life, when I was in the hospital needing emergency surgery, yeah, I had to call him to come sign off on it.

But now? I was fine-healthy. His words just sounded like a cruel joke.

Maybe even Ronald realized how ridiculous it was because he didn't pursue it further.

"Where's the medicine kept? And which kettle heats water?"

Ha. Typical. That jerk just wanted to order me around again like I'm his live-in maid.

Honestly, I was beginning to suspect that whole dream story was fake. Probably just an excuse to get me to find stuff for him.

I kept quiet, ready to hang up, but then he said softly, "Isabella, my stomach's killing me."

My eyebrows furrowed. His voice did sound a little off. and against my better judgment, I felt a flicker of concern.

"The meds are on the second shelf from the bottom, third drawer, in the study. Kettle's in the kitchen cabinet. Take two pills, and don't overdo it."

"Got it," he replied, and I could hear him rummaging through drawers.

Then it hit me-what the hell was I doing? Instinctively, I slapped myself. Why was I still helping him out?

"Ronald, we're practically divorced. From today onward, we're done. Don't come to me with this stuff anymore. In fact, you woke me up just now-you owe me compensation for mental distress."

I could hear a dry chuckle on the other end. His tone was icy. "Compensation?"

I snorted. "Of course. Ever since I married you, you've been getting all the perks, while I've just been bleeding time and energy.

"I gave you the best years of my life. Don't you think you owe me something for that?"

He sounded even more sarcastic. "Wow, sounds like someone's head-over-heels for money now."

I flashed a proud smile. "Absolutely. Money doesn't betray. It doesn't give you attitude or random stomach issues. Unlike you-fussy, picky, germaphobe, emotionally constipated. Oh, and can't even hold it together in bed. Tsk."

In my past life, I gave up everything to be a full-time housewife. And in the end? Lost it all. Came out with nothing.

This time around, at least I'm keeping my assets.

Ronald hissed, "Isabella!"

He was about to blow up, I could hear it. But I didn't let him. Hung up right then and there, rolled over, and closed my eyes.

Not even a minute later, my phone lit up again. Ronald's name.

Without hesitation, I hung up again. Felt amazing.

He used to hang up on me all the time in the past. Didn't think the day would come when I'd be doing the same to him.

From now on, I'm done tiptoeing around this so-called relationship. No more worrying if he's upset, bored, or mad.

Starting today, I won't be anyone's wife, anyone's daughter-in-law.

Just me. Living for myself. And totally, unapologetically happy.