In my previous life, I refused to let Julia recognize Henry as her "brother". As a result, he swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and tried to kill himself. Thankfully, one of the maids found him in time and saved his life.

After that, my relationship with everyone in the house only grew worse. They all thought I was petty and jealous that I couldn't even forgive a dying man.

Later, Julia went to develop her business in Ashridge. Without hesitation, she took Henry with her.

When he died, no one cared what I thought. Julia officially called him her brother, and he was buried in the Summers Estate.

My son, Ryan Reed, said, "Dad, Uncle Henry spent his whole life suffering for Mom's sake. Now that he's dying, he just wants a label. What's so wrong with that? If it weren't for you, the two of them would've been a perfect couple long ago!"

My daughter, Ella Reed, said, "Dad, you're just a country bumpkin. Mom comes from a powerful old family. You were never her equal. Why do you insist on clinging to the title of her husband?"

Sometimes, even I started to wonder if I really was the villain they said I was.

When the kids got sick, I was the one who stayed up all night nursing them.

When Julia's mother had a stroke and was bedridden, I was the one who cared for her day and night.

When the Summers family faced financial trouble and ran out of liquidity, I used my own savings to fill the gap, even dipping into my father's fortune to keep them afloat.

Every day I lived in torment, drowning in silence and bitterness.

And my wife? She was out there whispering sweet nothings with her lover.

My children praised their "divine love story".

Why did everyone expect me to endure it all by staying quiet, to keep smiling, to keep forgiving, and play the role of the endlessly patient fool?

I looked into the mirror at my young reflection. Grief and fury surged in my chest as memories of pain flashed before my eyes.

Nonetheless, I laughed. This time, I'd do exactly what they wanted.

For the rest of my life, I'd live only for myself.

That afternoon, I was sitting with my lawyer, David Walsh, calculating every cent I'd spent and how the assets should be divided, when I heard a knock at the door, followed by Henry's gentle voice.

"Jake," he said, stepping in with a bowl of soup. "I've caused you a lot of trouble lately. I made a pot of bouillabaisse myself today. It's really good. Try some."

I noticed my two kids standing behind him in the hallway, but their eyes were fixed on him, not me, as if he were their father.

I waved a hand. "No thanks."

Henry froze for a split second. Then it was as if someone had pushed him. He stumbled backward, and the bowl flew from his hands. Fish soup splattered across the floor and onto his skin, turning it red instantly. He yelped in pain.

Ryan shouted angrily, "Dad! Even if you don't want to drink it, you can't push him!"

Ella added, "Dad, that was too much! You hurt Uncle Henry!"

Clutching his burned hand, Henry said quickly, "It's not Jake's fault. I just didn't hold it right."

Watching him pull the same stunt again, I remembered that in my past life, he'd done the exact same thing. Only then, he'd gone even further by deliberately breaking his own leg to make it look like I'd done it and earning everyone's sympathy.

He hadn't been dying at all. Back then, he'd lived another five happy years with Julia in Ashridge.

I didn't hold back this time. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

Before I could hit him again, someone caught my wrist. It was Julia. Her face was pale with fury, her eyes sharp as ice.

"Jake," she hissed. "I can't believe you'd actually hit someone!"

Henry still looked stunned. He hadn't expected me to fight back.

When he finally came to, he pulled Julia into his arms, the bright red handprint standing out on his cheek.

"Julia, it's all my fault," Henry said softly, his tone gentle and pitiful. "I was worried about causing trouble for you both, so I made the bouillabaisse for Jake today. Who could've guessed he wouldn't drink it, and even pushed and hit me…"

He gave a bitter smile. "It must've been my cooking. I must've made it so bad that it made him angry."

Even as he spoke, there was a faint glint of satisfaction in his eyes, though it was quickly masked by a look of gracious humility. He even tried to calm them down, pretending to be the peacekeeper.

Julia and I locked eyes. I yanked my wrist free from her grip.

"He accused me of pushing him," I said coldly. "All I did was teach him a lesson."

Ryan suddenly spoke up, glaring at me with disgust. "Dad, Ella and I both saw it. You pushed Uncle Henry. Why are you lying?"

My daughter bit her lip and echoed, "I saw it too. It was you, Dad. You pushed him."

Henry's mocking look deepened, though his voice stayed warm. "Don't argue because of me. It's my fault. Jake, please, don't take it out on the kids."

Julia sighed, her voice heavy with disappointment. "Jake, people say jealousy is the devil. Look at you now. You've turned into something hateful. Stay home and reflect on what you've become."

Just like in my last life, a single sentence was all it took for her to condemn me.

I suddenly laughed at myself for still trying to explain and expecting her to listen. However, it didn't matter anymore. There wouldn't be a next time.

They all gathered protectively around the "injured" Henry and left together.

I glanced at the ledger on the table, sorted it as quickly as possible, and finished packing my bags. Then I took out the divorce papers I'd already prepared and set them down in front of Julia.

"Julia, let's get a divorce."

Julia didn't even look at the papers. She picked them up, tossed them straight into the trash, and let out a mocking laugh.

"All this drama because of what happened today? He and I grew up together. He's sick and doesn't have much time left, yet you hit him. What more do you want?" Her eyes turned cold. "And you? A self-made upstart daring to talk divorce with me?"

From the look on her face, I could tell she wasn't taking me seriously at all. To her, I was just throwing a tantrum. After all, I'd loved her so much. How could I possibly walk away?

"Didn't Henry ask you to recognize him as your brother after he died? To put his memorial tablet in the Summers Estate?"

Julia froze.

"Where did you hear that?" she demanded.

"If Henry dies in the Summers household," she said, "he'll automatically deserve a place in the family shrine."

"Then what if I refuse?" I shot back.

She frowned, irritation flashing in her eyes. "What's wrong with you lately? You've been going against me over everything! It's just recognizing him as my brother. It's not like we're having a child together!"

"As long as I'm still your husband," I said coldly, "whether it's calling him your brother or having a child with him, I'll never allow it."

I pulled out another copy of the divorce agreement and slid it toward her. "You might as well just divorce me. Then your childhood sweetheart can finally get what he wants."

Julia's face hardened, her expression cooling instantly as she studied me, searching for any sign I might be bluffing.

"You'd really give up the title of my husband? You'd really walk away from your children?" she asked. "Jake, you promised when we got married that we'd grow old together."

"And you promised me," I said, voice sharp, "that you'd love only me in this lifetime. Yet here you are, planning to make Henry your 'brother'. Brother… What a joke. Everyone knows that in your world, 'brother' just means 'lover'."

My tone turned icy. "So if I stay, I'm only making it harder for you, aren't I? Besides, the kids clearly adore Henry. If divorce makes everyone happy, why shouldn't I go through with it?"

"Fine, fine!" Julia snapped, clearly fed up. She signed the divorce agreement in a burst of anger. Then we went to the courthouse and filed the divorce. "Don't come crying back when you regret it!"

I calmly took out another folder.

"Since we're officially divorced, I don't want a cent of your money," I said. "Just return the private funds I contributed to your family. I trust that someone of your background, a Summers heiress, wouldn't stoop to owing a country boy like me money."

Julia let out a sharp laugh, half furious, half mocking. "Unbelievable… Tom! Return Mr. Reed's money right now!"

The butler, Tom Smith, looked stricken, his voice trembling. "Ms. Summers, the company hasn't been doing well in recent years. All the household expenses came from Mr. Reed's private assets. There's nothing left to return at the moment."

Julia froze, her face filled with shock, as if she truly had no idea. Nonetheless, she refused to show weakness in front of me. "Don't worry. The Summers family can afford to pay back your little sum!"

I nodded slightly. "I'm sure of that. You've always been good on your word, Julia. You'll return the five million I covered for your family, along with the properties I helped purchase. Everything's been verified with David Walsh, my lawyer. It's all documented in the files. Just match the value, and we'll call it even."

Julia's face stiffened, her expression shifting through disbelief, embarrassment, and anger. She'd never realized she'd spent so much of my money. Her expression was a kaleidoscope of colors, but she said nothing as she just picked up the folder and walked out.

By nightfall, she'd transferred all the funds back to me.

"Are you satisfied now?" she asked coolly.

I stayed calm. "Now that we're divorced, we're completely done. No ties, no overlap. Let's not see each other again."

Julia clearly hadn't expected that. She'd been waiting for me to beg her to stay.

"Jake," she said, her tone softening with condescension. "People who can't let go of their pride are impossible to love. I didn't realize how much you'd done for this family before. That was my fault. I'm sorry. If you can just swallow your pride now, we could still go back to how things were."

Her voice turned cold again. "But if you don't, and you come crawling back later, no matter how much you beg, I'll never marry you again."

Inside, I almost laughed. 'Too bad, Julia,' I thought. 'In this lifetime, you'll never see me regret a thing.'

I didn't bother responding. I simply nodded and put away the returned check.

Just then, Ryan ran into the room, throwing himself into Julia's arms. His little face was full of fear.

"Mom, are you and Dad really getting divorced? Is he really leaving us?"

Julia deliberately raised her voice so I could hear.

"Your father's just being dramatic," she said sweetly, stroking his hair. "He's just a country boy. He'd never actually leave me. And you and Ella are still so young. What kind of father could abandon his own children? You'll see. In a few days, he'll come crawling back to apologize and beg me not to go through with it."

I didn't bother correcting her. I turned and walked away in silence.

To them, my quiet exit only confirmed what they already believed—that I was acting out of pride, not resolve.

Their hearts eased. They even reassigned the servant who'd been ordered to keep an eye on me.

My assistant, Finn Thomas, came to me. "Mr. Reed, your father's car will be here to pick you up in the morning."

I nodded absently as I began throwing out everything I couldn't bring with me.

All of it—letters Julia had written to me in the early days of our marriage, and the tiny clothes I'd kept since Ryan and Ella were born until then.

By the time everything was packed and cleared, the first light of dawn pierced through the clouds.

The car my father sent for me was already waiting outside.

With a folder full of property deeds in my hand, I walked out quietly without any anger, sadness, or hesitation.

Just silence.