In the sixth year of my marriage with Zach Elroy, his workplace finally allocated us a small, two-room flat.

I was overjoyed. I told our daughter she would finally have a bed of her own.

But Zach said coldly, "This room is for Jennifer and her daughter. You and Kathy can keep sleeping on the floor."

In my past life, we fought bitterly over it. He eventually gave in.

But while I was away on a work trip, he went back on his word. He brought Jennifer Cross into our home and made our daughter, Kathy, sleep on the floor.

That night, when Kathy came down with a high fever and cried out that she felt sick, he was reading Jennifer and her daughter a bedtime story.

Our daughter passed away that night.

Now, in this life, I calmly laid out the bedding on the floor and said, "Whatever."

After work, I went to pick up Kathy from daycare. When we got home, I stepped through the door and saw clothes scattered across the floor.

The room that I thought belonged to me and Kathy now had photos of Jennifer Cross and her daughter hanging on the walls.

The clothes I had folded and put neatly in the wardrobe had been thrown out.

What little remained of our belongings—mine and Kathy's—was dumped in the courtyard like garbage.

When Jennifer saw me come in with Kathy, she looked surprised, though her face was laced with mockery and contempt.

"Sorry, Anna," she said with a sneer. "I was just clearing out some unwanted stuff. Zach said I should move in here with Felicia. You and Kathy will have to make do in the kitchen tonight."

There was not a trace of apology in her face. Just smugness.

I glanced toward the inner room, at the princess bed. My fingertips curled into my palm, digging deep. And I let out a laugh, low and bitter.

That bed was clearly the latest trend, expensive, no doubt.

Jennifer didn't even have a job. There was no question—Zach had bought it.

Last month, I'd asked him for a few dollars to buy Kathy a pencil case. He had flown into a rage, shouting that I didn't know how to manage money.

He said Kathy was spoiled, always comparing herself to other kids at school.

His salary wasn't much, he said. He couldn't just waste it.

But somehow, he had no problem spending a small fortune on that bed—because it was for Jennifer's daughter.

In my previous life, I never understood why Zach was always so good to her child. I didn't find out until the end, right before I died. Jennifer was his first love. He had never stopped thinking about her.

Kathy squatted down and quietly picked up her clothes, then looked up at me, eyes full of confusion.

"Mommy, why did Daddy give my room to someone else?"

I gently cupped her face and smiled faintly.

"What he does isn't up to us."

Just as I finished laying the bedding in the kitchen, Zach came home.

He was holding a fish and smiling as he walked toward me, calling me sweetly, "Anna darling, I bought a fish. I'll make pickled fish for you and Kathy later. I remember you both used to say you missed my cooking."

Kathy was off to the side doing homework. He gave her a warm look he hadn't shown in ages, kissed her cheek, and proudly held out a pencil case.

"Kathy, look what Daddy got you—the latest model. Do you like it?"

I glanced away, indifferent. His actions were obvious to me. He felt guilty for moving Jennifer and her daughter in without a word. This was his way of making amends.

A slap, followed by a candy. That was all this was.

Kathy wriggled out of his arms and came to stand by me. She wasn't excited at all. She just shook her head lightly.

"I don't like it anymore," she said.

Zach's face darkened instantly. He hurled the pencil case to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

"I come home bearing gifts, and this is what I get? What's with the sour faces? You've turned the girl against me!"

I pulled Kathy into my arms, shielding her, and looked at him. There was only sorrow in my heart, a cold kind of resignation.

I smiled bitterly and said, "Yeah. We're just not the kind of people others want to keep around."

After being startled by Zach's outburst, Kathy carefully brought him a cup of hot water, her voice timid as she tried to please him. "Daddy, have some water. Don't be angry anymore."

Still seething, Zach turned and slapped the cup out of her hands with a sharp wave. "Who wants your water? You're just as annoying as your mother."

The steaming water splashed across the back of her hand. Kathy cried out and clutched her arm, tears pouring down her face.

I rushed over with ointment, gently applying it to her reddened skin. My heart twisted at the sight, and I choked on my words as I tried to soothe her. "Don't cry, Kathy. Once the medicine's on, it won't hurt anymore…"

A flicker of panic crossed Zach's face. He stepped forward, flustered, his eyes darting to Kathy's injured arm. "I'm sorry, Kathy. I didn't mean to. Daddy will take you to the clinic right now!"

He bent down, ready to carry her. My chest tightened with worry. I lifted Kathy into his arms, and we headed for the door.

Just as we stepped outside, a sharp cry rang out from the second bedroom. "Zach! Felicia hurt her knee! It's bleeding! Come help me!"

He paused, frowning deeply, his gaze fixed on the room behind us.

Kathy and I both spoke up, our voices almost overlapping.

"Please, take us to the clinic first. I can't handle everything alone—paying, carrying Kathy—"

"Daddy, it hurts so much. Can we go to the clinic first…?"

Before I could finish, Zach gently lowered Kathy into my arms. He looked apologetic. "Felicia's always been fragile. Jennifer can't manage on her own. You take Kathy to the clinic first. I'll be right behind you."

And with that, he hurried back inside.

I carried Kathy down the road for several miles to the clinic. The doctor treated the burn and applied ointment.

It was late by then. They gave us a bed for the night.

Since Jennifer had come back into our lives—two lifetimes now—that was the only night Kathy and I had shared a real bed.

…

In my sleep, I found myself drifting back.

Back to when Zach and I were still dating. He held my hand gently and said, "Anna, be with me. I swear, I'll never let you suffer."

He promised to shelter me from storms. That he'd never let anyone hurt me.

I believed him. And I married him.

In the beginning, his house didn't even have furniture, just a bed.

But Zach was ambitious. He said he wanted to give me a better life.

He took odd jobs from school—grading papers, organizing lesson plans, and writing notes for teachers. He'd stay up until three or four in the morning.

With the first money he earned from those sleepless nights, he bought me a pair of wool gloves.

He'd worked for over a month, through the cold, until his hands broke out with chilblains again and again.

I was so moved, I told him not to waste money like that.

But he slid the gloves onto my hands, smiling like the sun in winter. "With these, your hands won't get cold anymore. If it's for you, it's worth it."

Our life steadily got better.

We filled the house with furniture little by little. Then Kathy was born. Our family of three slept in the same bed.

People around us often joked that Zach was the perfect husband.

The happy marriage lased almost six years.

Until Jennifer arrived with her daughter.

Zach stopped sharing a bed with us. He told me and Kathy to sleep on the kitchen floor.

I thought maybe he was having a hard time at work. So I brought Kathy with me to his office, hoping to cheer him up.

But I saw him outside the preschool, grinning as he held Jennifer's daughter by the hand. He lifted the girl into his arms and said, "Would you like me to be your daddy from now on?"

My feet froze on the stairs. The pain in my chest was sudden and sharp, like something had been violently carved out of me. I couldn't breathe.

He had never smiled at me or Kathy like that. Because he didn't love me. Because in his heart, I was never Jennifer.

Now he finally got a house with two bedrooms, however he was so cruel, forcing us to sleep on the floor in the dead of winter, while giving Jennifer and her daughter the bed in our home.

If I hadn't learned the truth just before I died in my last life, I might still be wondering how Zach could be so heartless to us.

That day, when Kathy's arm was scalded, I saw it—pain and guilt flicker across his face. It was faint, but real enough that I clung to it. I kept a sliver of hope alive, thinking maybe he hadn't fallen completely beyond redemption. That's why I reached out to him, pleaded with him to help us.

But the truth was simple. Zach had always put Jennifer first.

He didn't love me. He didn't love our daughter. That truth hadn't changed just because I had been given another chance at life. The way he turned away from us—cold, indifferent, vaguely apologetic—was exactly the same as before.

I held Kathy tighter and made a quiet promise in my heart: this time, all I would ask for was Kathy's safety. Her health. Her life.

Early the next morning, I dropped Kathy off at daycare and went straight to my workplace. I told the director I had decided to accept the transfer to Shaylon City.

He lit up with excitement. "Anna, you've finally come around. With your education, you'll have so much more room to grow in a city like Shaylon City."

He'd brought it up so many times in my previous life, too. He said if I accepted the post and moved to Shaylon City, I'd have a real future there.

I had gone home and told Zach back then. He said the director was lying to me, and if I went, he'd divorce me on the spot.

I believed him. I thought he was just worried I'd be taken advantage of.

But not long after, he told Jennifer everything—and she took the opportunity instead. Got promoted, too.

"Director," I said now, "can I go as soon as possible?"

I didn't want to stay one more minute under the same roof as Zach.

The director, clearly pleased, told me to start packing. The train ticket would be reimbursed by the office.

When I married Zach, we didn't even bother getting a marriage certificate. Looking back, maybe that was fate's mercy. It meant I could leave with Kathy without anything holding us back.

I headed straight to the train station and bought our tickets. Then I returned home to pack.

Just as I stepped into the courtyard, I heard soft, intimate voices drifting from the back room.

Zach said, "She'll just hide somewhere and cry, that's all she ever does. What's she gonna say about it?"

I gave a short, mirthless laugh.

He knew me well. Knew how deeply I loved him.

Back then, in the face of betrayal, crying was all I'd done.

I didn't hesitate—I pushed the door open and walked in.

Zach's face darkened instantly. He glared at me with open displeasure.

"Who told you to come back?"

"It's my house too, isn't it?" I said quietly.

Jennifer looked at me with thinly veiled contempt, slowly straightening her clothes as she got out of bed. She deliberately left two buttons undone.

Her tone was light and mocking. "Anna, we were just talking about you. Where were you last night?"

She gave a theatrical pause, raising her brows. "Taking a kid out in the middle of the night? You probably didn't want to pay for a hotel, right? Or did you end up in some random guy's bed?"

She laughed, tossing a knowing glance at Zach.

His face turned stone-cold as he scanned me from head to toe, that frigid stare trying to peel me apart.

Clearly, he believed her.

He snapped, "Anna! Have you no decency at all? I don't even know why I ever saw anything in you. You're shameless!"

His words stung. I let out a dry, bitter laugh. I didn't even have the strength to argue.

"Think what you want."

I turned away and began folding mine and Kathy's clothes by the cabinet.

Jennifer laughed, shrill and grating, then nestled herself into Zach's arms. With a sneer in her voice, she said, "Zach, I told you, you shouldn't keep hesitating over her. For the elementary school spot, it's better if Felicia takes it."

She glanced at me, full of disdain.

"A mother like her—what kind of daughter could she possibly raise? It'd just be a waste."

My hands paused over the clothes. Her words were laughable, really. But I didn't bother to argue. I just wanted to leave.

"There's no need for him to worry about me," I said flatly.