In the fifth year of my marriage to Corey, rumors spread about a girl he was secretly seeing at a hotel, and everyone found out. To avoid being labeled as "the other woman," Corey presented me with divorce papers. He said, "Aura's father once helped me, and on his deathbed, he asked me to take care of Aura. Now that this has come out, I can't just leave her to deal with it alone."

Over the years, Aura was always Corey's priority. In a previous life, when I heard those words, I was shattered and refused to divorce. I ended up with severe depression, and because Aura once casually remarked, "She doesn't look sick to me," Corey thought I was pretending, believing I was playing hard to get. He ensnared me in a scandal and filed for divorce. It was then I realized I could never compete with a debt of gratitude. In my desperation, I attempted suicide.

But now, as I opened my eyes again, I signed the divorce papers without a second thought.

"After this all settles down, why don't we get back together, Nadia?" Corey asked as I sat on a stone bench in the manor’s garden, my mind drifting. Three hours earlier, the tabloids had revealed Aura as Corey's alleged mistress, and the internet was abuzz, calling her a homewrecker for interfering in our marriage.

Corey’s reputation as a dedicated husband crumbled, and Lopez Corp’s stocks were shaky. Last time, when Corey brought divorce papers to me, I was so angry I uprooted every rose he'd planted for me in the garden, demanding to know the truth about him and Aura. Even though she was just his mentor’s daughter, he chose to sacrifice me because he didn't want Aura's depression to worsen. What Corey didn't know is that during that time of public chaos, I was also diagnosed with moderate depression.

“Nadia,” Corey called me again, pulling me back from my thoughts. I looked down at the divorce papers on the stone table. He knelt at my feet, his earnest eyes searching mine, his warm hand enveloping mine with a persuasive tone. “Nadia, if not for me, please do it?”

"We’ll announce that our marriage has been just a name for over a year and that we’ve been planning to divorce, but just hadn’t found the right moment." I remained silent as Aura, standing behind him in a white vintage-style dress with Corey’s coat draped over her shoulders, appeared pale, her eyes rimmed with red.

"Nadia, please help me," Aura begged. "My mother committed suicide because of online torment and depression. I don't want to follow her path. Nadia, I’m pleading with you..." She tried to kneel, but Corey quickly stood, catching her and holding her protectively. His expression turned stern as he scolded her softly, “What are you doing?”

Aura hesitated, her voice fragile and tearful as she lowered her gaze. “I just want Nadia to feel better about this.”

Corey’s eyes filled with irritation as he turned back to me, the previous warmth gone. “Nadia, I didn’t come here to ask for your opinion.”

“I’ve made my decision on this matter. If you’re not willing to divorce, then don’t blame me—”

I met his gaze calmly, cutting his words off. I knew what he was going to say. He would say, “Nadia, you know I have ways to make you sign those papers willingly. If it comes to a divorce trial, you won’t stand a chance against Lopez Corp’s lawyers.”

In my previous life, those were his exact words, and I ended up framed, with fabricated evidence of infidelity staged with male models. Overnight, I became the unfaithful wife, condemned by public opinion, while Corey and Aura played the innocent victims.

"I can sign, but you have to agree to one thing." After a long pause, I finally spoke.

Corey glanced up at me before nodding in agreement. He handed me the pen, and without any visible emotion, I signed my name on the divorce papers.

"Aren’t you going to double-check the agreement?" Corey asked, frowning.

I gave a brief smile. "No need."

He was practically walking away with nothing, giving me all the assets—all for Aura, to repay a debt of gratitude.

"Make sure you stop by the courthouse tomorrow," he suggested.

"Sure," I said.

As he took back the divorce papers, Corey's hand paused slightly, a hint of doubt in his eyes. But in the end, he said nothing.

As they left, Aura looked back at me with a mocking expression, her lips silently forming the words, "You've lost."

In a sense, she was right. I'd already lost a lifetime, and I didn't want to lose anymore.

A moment later, my phone lit up with a message from Corey.

[Nadia, I'm sorry for what happened today.]

[Once this is over, I'll throw a huge wedding and we'll get married again.]

[I can't just stand by and watch Aura’s depression get worse. You understand, right?]

I read his message and couldn't help but laugh, tears welling up in my eyes.

It was the same story as before. Corey conspired with his friends to push me into a divorce and then drowned himself in alcohol. He forgot, though, that his friends were also mine.

Kendrick, one of them, was always playing peacekeeper. He urged Corey not to throw away his marriage for Aura and coaxed me to understand Corey, calling him a loyal friend.

Back then, if it weren't for Aura's father seeing Corey's potential, investing in him, and helping him start his business, Corey wouldn't be where he is today.

I cried out in protest, "Corey has countless ways to sort this out. Why divorce?"

Kendrick fell silent. When he asked Corey, this was his response:

"Someone has to take the fall, and I can only ask Nadia to bear this. She loves me and can understand."

Because I loved him, my sacrifice was taken for granted. What kind of reasoning was that?

Fortunately, I have another chance.