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.

I closed my eyes again, and somehow my mind drifted back to figuring out why Ronald's stomach's been acting up lately.

Ronald's always been a workaholic. Even before we got married, he'd skip meals for the sake of work, and that's basically how he ended up with his chronic stomach issues.

After we got married, I felt bad seeing him like that, so I threw myself into learning how to cook just so he'd eat properly. Over time, he actually started enjoying meals-and his stomach problems pretty much disappeared.

Now look at him-without me, his stomach's acting up again. Sigh. No luck at all, that man.

But then again, isn't his perfect little "first love" a doctor? If he's really that miserable, he can just go whine to her and fake some poor-me act for sympathy.

Whatever. None of my business anymore. I'll wrap things up tomorrow and push him for the divorce papers. The sooner the better.

Early next morning, Emma was already up and getting ready to go. She shouted as she rushed out, "Something urgent came up at work-I've gotta head over right now."

"I already sent you the address of the partner company on WhatsApp. You drive over yourself, okay? To make it up to you for ditching-dinner's on me tonight!"

Half-asleep, I mumbled, "Mmm... sure."

I didn't actually crawl out of bed until the sun was high and bright.

After brushing up and getting dressed, I put on some light makeup.

The mirror showed a woman with soft doe eyes and elegant features. The slight upward curve of her lips gave her a touch of charm. With a red maxi dress and a few carefully chosen accessories, she looked polished, radiant, full of life.

Honestly, I'm not bad-looking. Just... a little too sultry. Not the sweet, innocent type like Ronald's so-called true love. You know, the kind you'd think of as a first love.

I gave my hair a quick twirl with my finger and slapped on some bold red lipstick. Yeah, more fox-like than ever now.

I headed downstairs for a quick breakfast and then hit the road, driving to the place Emma had sent me.

Something about the address felt familiar, but I couldn't pin down why.

"You have arrived. Your destination is on the right," the GPS announced.

I turned to look.

There stood this luxurious, towering office building. After grabbing my bag, I got out of the car and walked in. I took the elevator straight up to the 33rd floor.

The whole place was bright and spacious, with an expensive-looking interior. The 33rd floor especially screamed wealth and status. I walked over to the front desk, and the receptionist introduced me to a woman in business attire with her hair in a neat bun-apparently, this company's senior secretary.

She was on the phone at the moment. "Don't worry, Mr. Perry. I know how long you've been looking for her. If she shows up, I'll let you know right away. Got it."

Once she hung up, I handed her my resume.

"Hi. I'm here for an interview."

She didn't even glance at me, just started flipping through the pages, all focused and professional.

And then, her expression changed. She stared at me like she'd seen a ghost. "Wait. You're Reverie? The designer behind the Dreaming Butterfly collection?"

Not gonna lie-I felt a bit awkward. Reverie and Dreaming Butterfly were names I randomly came up with back in high school. Super over-the-top, super cringey. Hearing that now made me want to shrink into myself.

"Yeah. that's me."

Her eyes went wide as she slapped one hand over her mouth in pure excitement, rushing to shake mine.

"Oh my god-you broke into the scene in high school, peaked during college with Dreaming Butterfly. You're the top designer Reverie! I can't believe it's really you!"

"Our managers have been searching for you for ages. Someone mentioned you might drop by today, but we honestly weren't sure. And now-wow, you're actually here!"

She was way too enthusiastic, gripping my hand so tightly it actually hurt. I forced a smile while gently pulling my hand back.

"A friend set this meeting up for me."

The secretary kept chattering like she didn't hear a word I said. "Miss Carter, I seriously love your work! But how come you stopped designing? It's been over a year with zero updates-I thought you quit the industry or something!"

I replied honestly, "I had to take a break for personal reasons, but I plan to get back to designing soon. By the way, when's your manager arriving? When does the interview start?"

It was only after I reminded her that she snapped back to business mode. "Oh right, sorry! Give me a sec, I'll call now. Our boss even talked to Mr. Wright earlier today-they're both coming to meet you!"

She dialed while talking.

Mr. Wright?

That name instantly gave me a bad feeling. After she hung up, I asked, "Who's your boss, again?"

Still smiling, she said cheerfully, "You didn't see? It's Nicholas Perry. They're almost here, just give it a minute."

Nicholas!

My face changed in an instant.

That's Ronald's best friend-young master of the Perry Group. Those two are basically attached at the hip. Super tight, childhood buddies.

Unlike Ronald's serious and deep kind of vibe, Nicholas was your classic spoiled rich guy-big into partying. Most of his businesses were in entertainment-clubs, events, all that wild stuff.

He's had. what, hundreds of girlfriends? At least.

Then it hit me why this place felt familiar. Ronald had mentioned once he invested in Nicholas's company. I came here to drop off lunch once or twice, but it was rare, so I didn't remember it clearly.

Truth be told, I never liked hanging out with guys like Nicholas, so we rarely crossed paths.

The secretary still wanted to chat, but I cut her off fast.

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

I got up and made a beeline for the exit. She tried to stop me, but I ignored her-I was just hoping to get out before they showed up. But just as the elevator opened, boom-I ran straight into two tall, ridiculously good-looking men.

One was in a sharp black suit, white shirt, and brown tie, that familiar handsome face giving nothing away as he walked in.

Ronald.

Standing next to him was another stunner, but the vibes couldn't be more different-he wore a casual trench coat, had those confident brows, and a playful, almost smug grin.

Seeing me, Ronald's eyes flickered with surprise. "Isabella? You're here?"

Nicholas laughed out loud, "Whoa, look who it is. Didn't expect to see you here, Isabella! How come no heads-up?"

Yeah, I wasn't about to start anything with them. I didn't even look back-just brushed past, heading straight for the elevator.

"Isabella, stop." Ronald's voice behind me was cold as ice, but I didn't slow down.

He must've been pissed. In two steps, he was right beside me, grabbing my wrist tightly.

I had to stop. Turning back, I met his sharp gaze and clenched jaw.

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

I tried to yank my hand back, but he didn't budge. "Yeah, I heard. So what? Doesn't mean I have to do what you want. Let go."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nicholas raise a brow with amusement and smirk.

"Ronald, damn man, what'd you mess up this time? She's actually ignoring you? That's a first."

Ronald shot him a cold glare, and Nicholas quickly zipped it, raising his hands in pretend surrender, grin widening.

Then Ronald's eyes locked back onto me, dark and unreadable, like a black hole pulling everything in.

"Still playing games? How long are you planning to keep this up?"

I was stunned, totally in disbelief. "Ronald, seriously? You still think I'm just making a fuss?"

I've told him over and over, signed the divorce papers even, and he still thinks I'm just being dramatic?

Ronald stood tall and stiff, but he leaned down slightly towards me, his voice low. "Isabella, playing hard to get might be cute the first time. Do it twice, three times, and it just gets old.

"If you're done throwing a tantrum, come home. Don't push it and test my patience."

I stared at his dark expression, then suddenly chuckled in disbelief. "Ronald, can you stop acting like the world revolves around you? You're not the sun, okay? I won't drop dead without you.

"I'm gonna say it one last time-I want a divorce. I'm not joking."

His face went cold, a sharp chill in his blue eyes.

"You're just after money, aren't you? How much this time? Name your price. I don't have time to keep playing this game with you. And don't embarrass me in public."

My face went pale. That slap of humiliation hit hard-and I'd felt it before. In that past life, he'd always looked down on me like a king looking at a servant, crushing my dignity underfoot.

Something snapped. I shoved him hard. "I said I don't want your damn money! Ronald, stop thinking the whole world runs by your logic. Haven't you seen the divorce agreement? There's not a single word in there about splitting assets!"

Maybe he didn't expect that, because he actually stumbled back a couple steps. His face was so dark it looked like it'd start storming any second. Nicholas gave a snort-laugh on the side.

"Well damn, Ron. Never thought I'd see the day you got rejected. And arguing too-by a woman, no less. Shocking stuff."

Ronald shot him a glare that could kill, and Nicholas quickly shut up. But then he looked at me with a grin and a thumbs-up.

"Isabella, you've got it going on now. You used to spoil Ron too much-always the sweet, obedient one. No boundaries. But now? You've flipped the script. Showing your temper's good. Makes him realize you're not someone he can just push around. Look, he's actually behaving."

Ronald and I snapped in unison, "Shut up!"

Nicholas just smirked, rubbing his cheek with his tongue like it was no big deal.

"Alright, alright, I'll zip it. Just one last thing though-Ron's basically emotionally blind. Dude's so used to being chased, he's clueless when it comes to chasing others.

"Don't stay mad at him, okay? His stomach's acting up again. When I saw him this morning, he looked like he'd pass out. Wouldn't eat anything, still hurting I bet. And he only eats your cooking."

Before he could finish, Ronald shot him another deadly glare. "Nicholas, say one more word and you'll regret it."

That finally shut him up for real. Nicholas even dragged his assistant with him and backed away quickly.

Honestly, I was shocked. Ronald didn't go run straight to his precious first love? This was the perfect drama moment and he didn't take the chance?

I was still trying to wrap my head around that when he suddenly spoke again, his voice low and icy.

"Isabella, in this whole year of marriage, everything you've worn, your makeup, your bags, your jewelry-every single piece, I bought them.

"You're the clingy type that can't survive without a man. Just admit you want money and quit playing tricks. Using a divorce as cover? Not very clever.

"Move back home tonight. And all the stuff you took? Put it back. Otherwise, don't bother coming back ever."

His dark, sharp eyes locked onto me, like he was dead sure I was just playing hard to get, pretending to be mad so I'd cave for the money and come crawling back.

My chest rose and fell with anger, and I couldn't help but let out a laugh. There was a sting behind that laugh-bitterness mixed with helplessness.

Back in my last life, before the divorce, he did splurge on me quite a bit. Whatever I asked for, he'd buy it without blinking. But I wasn't some greedy gold digger-I just wanted a few meaningful gifts on special days to mark our life together.

I used to give him gifts too. He never took them. So later on, I'd cook instead. He gave me a gift, I cooked him a feast. I thought that was our little couple thing-but turns out, he saw it as me trying to milk him for cash.

Looking back, maybe even his gifts were just a way to keep me quiet, like tossing a bone to a dog. Nothing genuine.

Even with all the time that's passed, the memory still stings. My jaw clenched tight.

"Ronald, you better hear me loud and clear-your so-called money means nothing to me! If I hadn't married you and become a freaking housewife, I wouldn't have had to come begging in the first place!

"We both clearly can't stand each other, so let's cut the crap. I'm done playing the quiet wife. Just give me the damn divorce. I swear, from now on, we're strangers. Like, forever!

"Even if I end up broke and starving someday, don't think for a second I'll come looking to you for a dime."

With every word I threw at him, Ronald's face got darker and darker. His hands, hanging by his sides, were clenching so hard his knuckles popped.

I started yanking off every accessory he gave me, slipping off my jacket and kicking off my heels, dumping them all right there in front of him.

Ronald's face turned thunderous. "What the hell are you doing?"

I looked up at him, expression cold and dripping with sarcasm.

"You bought these, right? Take 'em back. Everything I took with me when I left-if it's yours, it's staying here.

"Honestly, I was being nice, packing up my stuff so your new girl could move in clean. But now you want me to give everything back and put it all back in place? Wow, and here I thought I'd seen cheap. You've broken the record.

"You're unbelievable, Ronald. No wonder no woman wants you. Marrying you was the worst life decision I've ever made!"

Ronald looked like he was about to explode, his face dark like a storm cloud. Rarely have I seen him this pissed.

Burning with rage, I jabbed the elevator button. Couldn't even storm out properly-how annoying was that?

For once, Ronald didn't chase after me. He just turned and left in the other direction.

Yeah, he was mad, all right. I hit a nerve. He tried so hard for his precious first love, now I flat-out told him he's got no game. Bet that burned.

Behind me, Nicholas chimed in with that annoying mock-dramatic tone, clearly enjoying the drama. "Damn, you've got fire! I've never seen Ronald lose it like that. Respect. I like the vibe. Feel free to drop by anytime."

"If you're really getting divorced, maybe think about me. Rich, handsome. I'm not exactly a downgrade."

As if.

I turned and shot him a glare. This player was just like Ronald-couldn't be trusted.

Then I noticed the secretary-who'd been standing there silently this whole time-leaning in and whispering something in Nicholas's ear. He suddenly looked up at me, eyes wide with surprise.

Great. He must've overheard Ronald calling me a clinger earlier and now figured out I was here to interview for the chief designer spot.

So yeah, I'm job hunting... right in Ronald's buddy's company. Perfect.

And after all that drama? God. Could things get any messier?