After the college entrance exams ended, I got drunk, pinned the school genius against the wall, and confessed to him.

When I opened my eyes again, I had somehow jumped ten years into the future.

Not only was I married to the guy I once had a crush on, we even had a son together.

A seven-year anniversary cake sat on the table, and my heart nearly burst with happiness.

Then my son tricked me into a dark storage room.

"Today is Mandy's birthday! I won't let you bother Dad!"

"I'm protecting Dad and Mandy's happiness!"

Separated by a single wall, I suddenly realized something.

My husband did not love me.

And neither did my son.

By the time the servants finally let me out, I beat my son so hard he burst into tears.

"You evil woman! How dare you hit me! I'm telling Dad to divorce you!"

I locked him back inside the room and let out a cold laugh.

"Fine. Divorce it is.

"Who says I care about either of you?"

Hearing that, five-year-old Charles Beaumont froze. It was obvious he had not expected me to say something like that.

Just then, a familiar voice rang out from the stairway.

"Why is Charles crying?"

I turned around, momentarily stunned.

Liam Beaumont, the brilliant genius I had once secretly admired, was walking upstairs in a sharply tailored suit.

Ten years really had passed. The youthful softness between his brows was gone, replaced by the calm maturity of a grown man.

Charles immediately burst into louder sobs, pounding on the door as he cried.

"Dad! Mom's gone crazy and hit me! Hurry and save me!"

Liam frowned and pulled the door open. "What happened?"

The moment the door opened, Charles shot straight into his arms, wailing dramatically.

"Dad, I hate Mom! I just didn't want her disturbing you and Mandy, but then she got angry and hit me and locked me in the dark room!"

Liam looked at me in shock.

The eyes that had been so full of tenderness yesterday now held nothing but coldness and mockery.

"Stella Tanner, before this, you nearly burned Mandy to death. Fine. But now you're even hitting your own son? What the hell is wrong with you?"

There was disappointment mixed into his icy voice, and my heart trembled with hurt.

During the four hours I had been locked in that dark room, I had pieced together who Mandy Coot was from the notes saved in my phone.

She had been Liam's university classmate. In their sophomore year, he suffered a heart attack, and she was the one who saved him.

They were obviously very close. That much, I could understand.

However, from the missing ten years of my memory, it seemed that whenever Mandy was involved, Liam would always take her side without hesitation. Toward the future version of me, all he ever seemed to have were accusations and reprimands.

And yet I was his wife.

The woman he had married openly and properly, the one he once promised to protect for the rest of his life.

Charles pointed at me angrily.

"Bad woman! You hit me just now! Apologize to me right now, or I'll make Dad kick you out!"

I glanced at him and almost laughed from sheer disbelief.

Then I spoke slowly, word by word.

"First: this little idiot locked me in a dark room for four hours. I'm his mother. Was I wrong to discipline him?

"Second: I have never gone crazy. And what happened back then with Mandy nearly dying in the fire had absolutely nothing to do with me."

During the first year of our marriage, Liam adored me completely. Everyone envied me for marrying such a perfect husband.

However, Mandy accidentally ruined one of my paintings for a competition. That same night, the guest room she was staying in mysteriously caught fire.

The security footage showed that I was the only person who had entered her room, and the fire started right after I walked out.

But only the future version of me knew the truth.

That day, a servant had called me there.

After the fire, the servant vanished without a trace, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never prove my innocence.

Liam never believed I was innocent either.

Still, he suppressed the incident and kept it from becoming a public scandal.

But out of guilt, he kept trying to make it up to Mandy. The two of them grew closer and closer, even his son began to like her more.

Meanwhile, the future version of me became quieter by the day, weighed down by misery. Even the paintbrushes I once loved had been abandoned in a corner, left to gather dust.

Just thinking about it made my chest ache in waves. I could not bear to imagine how wronged and heartbroken my future self must have felt.

Liam looked at me coldly, disappointment filling his eyes.

"Stella, the evidence from the fire back then was already conclusive. I thought you were the type to own up to what you did. I never expected you'd still be making excuses even now.

"Tell me this: would Mandy really set herself on fire?

"If I hadn't saved her that night, she might actually have died in that house. Do you understand?"

I met Liam's sharp gaze as grief and bitterness surged through me at the same time.

Back before graduation, someone in class falsely accused me of stealing. Eighteen-year-old Liam had stepped in front of me without hesitation.

"I know better than anyone what kind of person Stella is. Anyone in this class could be the thief, including me, but Stella would never do something like that."

He defended me, found the real thief, and cleared my name.

But ten years later, the man who once swore he trusted me more than anyone had chosen to believe someone else instead.

I forced down the burning bitterness in my chest and let out a mocking laugh.

"Liam, I really never imagined you'd become this stupid after ten years."

His expression darkened instantly.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean exactly what I said. Liam, you're an idiot. The twenty-eight-year-old me must deeply regret marrying you."

A flicker of shock crossed his eyes. He clearly hadn't expected me to say something like that. Then anger quickly took over.

"You regret marrying me? I haven't even regretted marrying you! Keep talking like this and I'll divorce you indeed!"

Charles immediately lifted his chin at me smugly.

"Dad, every time you say things like that and threaten divorce, she starts crying again. I hate it when she acts like that.

"Mandy is way better. She's smart, pretty, and she knows how to paint too. Dad, if you really divorce her, then marry Mandy and let her be my mom."

I glanced at the father and son standing in front of me.

"If you two are really that impatient, then let's not wait. We can get divorced right now."

Liam and Charles both froze.

I walked straight into the study, turned on the printer, downloaded a divorce agreement template, printed it out, and handed it directly to Liam.

"I don't want a single cent from you. Just sign it. Once you do, I'll leave immediately."

He stared at me as though he no longer recognized me, unable to believe I would ever say something like this to him.

Of course he could not understand.

Because the soul inside this body was no longer the twenty-eight-year-old Stella who had been worn down by life.

It was the eighteen-year-old Stella instead, someone who knew how to love deeply and let go cleanly.

Still holding the divorce papers, Liam remained stunned.

"You don't want anything? You don't even want your son anymore?"

Charles pursed his lips and stared at me with wide eyes.

I looked back at my five-year-old son.

The future me had suffered terribly to bring him into this world. During pregnancy, her body swelled constantly, stretch marks spread across her skin, she could barely eat or sleep, and near delivery she suffered a massive hemorrhage.

It took three days and three nights of emergency treatment before both mother and child finally survived.

When he was three years old and first saw the scar, his little face had filled with heartbreak.

"My teacher said having babies really hurts. Mommy worked so hard.

"When I grow up, I'm going to earn lots and lots of money and give it all to Mommy. Even if I only have food for myself, I'll still share half with Mommy."

Back then, his whole world revolved around me. He always wanted to give me the very best things he had.

But now, at five years old, his heart had already tilted toward Mandy.

And today, he had even threatened to throw me out of my own home.

"I don't want any of it. Keep everything."

Liam suddenly tore the divorce papers into pieces. He grabbed my wrist, fury blazing in his eyes.

"Nicely done, Stella. You picked our seventh anniversary to ask me for a divorce, hit our son, and now you don't even want custody anymore, all just so you can leave me?

"Have you forgotten how many years you've been a housewife? If we divorce, who's going to support you? What can you even do?

"Or are you still angry that Mandy and I went to the art exhibition yesterday?

"Wasn't it you who refused to go? You said your hands couldn't even hold a paintbrush steady anymore and that you didn't want to go. So what exactly are you throwing a tantrum over now?"

At twenty-eight years old, the very first note in my phone was about yesterday's exhibition.

Liam rarely invited me anywhere. The future version of me had actually been excited at first, until she found out the person he truly wanted to invite was Mandy. I had only been an afterthought.

That was why she turned him down.

Just as I was about to speak, Liam suddenly let go of me and sighed deeply.

"We've already made enough of a scene today. I doubt you're in the mood to celebrate our anniversary anymore.

"I'm taking our son to tonight's painting appreciation banquet. Stay home, calm down, and stop acting crazy."

With that, he left with our son.

I stood there for a few seconds before anger exploded inside me. I slammed my fist against the wall twice, biting my lip as my eyes reddened.

"Liam, you b*stard!"

The Liam from when I was eighteen, the Liam who stood in front of me yesterday, would never have dared speak harshly to me. Back then, he only ever praised me for having personality. Whenever I got moody, he would grin and call me his little princess.

However, the moment I woke up ten years into the future, I had somehow become a lunatic in his eyes.

And the way he treated the future me was unbearably cold.

In their chat history, there was only message after message from me asking about him, caring about him, trying to talk to him.

For four whole years, he had barely responded.

I still did not understand why I had suddenly traveled ten years into the future, and I understood even less how the confident, radiant girl I used to be had become so pitiful and meek.

But now that I was here, I was going to end this dead marriage with my own hands.

And as for the fire that ruined me back then, I was going to uncover the truth myself and slap every single person who slandered me with the evidence.

Scrolling through the notes on my phone, I found information about the maid who had disappeared after the fire years ago.

The future me had once wanted to clear her own name too, but after marrying Liam, she gradually lost contact with all her old friends. Later, depression consumed her, leaving her without the energy to travel around searching for people or the truth.

But I was different.

At eighteen, the one thing I had in abundance was energy.

I contacted a few friends, and before long we tracked down the maid's whereabouts.

"What a coincidence," my friend said over the phone. "She's working as a nanny at my house now. We're actually hosting a painting banquet tonight too. I'll come pick you up."

Not long later, a luxury car arrived downstairs.

I got into Sam Callahan's car.

Back in university, I had studied painting as well. I worked incredibly hard and had real talent too. I learned a lot, competed in countless contests with my senior, and once had a future full of promise ahead of me.

But after all these years, I had become a housewife.

Meanwhile, Sam had become a respected artist with a well-known name in the art world.

He glanced at me and suddenly smiled.

"Long time no see, Stella. It's been almost six years, hasn't it? I honestly thought you'd never contact me again."

I gave an awkward laugh and apologized softly.

Sam remained as gentle and refined as ever.

"There'll be a lot of people at tonight's painting appreciation event. Want to paint something too?"

I agreed immediately.

"Sure. I'll do one right now."

I grabbed the paper and brush beside me and lowered my head to paint.

Half an hour later, as the drive came to an end, I finally set the brush down and handed the completed painting to him.