My Wife Stole Everything, So I Took Revenge

After my son was born, my health began to decline, sometimes so badly that I couldn’t even drag myself out of bed.

My wife knelt before me, her hands pressed together in desperation, begging me to let Silas Anderson join the household to help us stay afloat.

Not long after Silas moved in, my wife took our son and left, saying that farming wasn’t enough to survive. Her calls home grew sparse until, one day, they stopped altogether.

Left with no other option, I survived by selling my blood and scavenging for scraps.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, my wife finally returned, only to drag me straight to the hospital for our son’s bone marrow transplant.

“You’re a useless cripple anyway,” she spat. “Just think of it as doing your duty as a father!”

But years of malnutrition had worn me down and I had to stay in the hospital to recover before I could do anything for our son.

It was there, in that sterile room, that I overheard Silas complaining about the money being spent on me.

“What do you know? This money is for our son! Once the transplant’s done, we’ll just give this sickly waste an extra dose and send him off. Then, all his land will be ours!”

Fury tore through me and at that moment, I felt my heart give way.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Silas first arrived at my home.

This time, I would make these two scoundrels pay for their betrayal.

——

A sudden, burning itch crawled up my throat and the familiar taste of blood surged within me.

Coughing, it felt as though an invisible hand had gripped my insides and twisted them into a knot.

Before I could fully open my eyes, a sharp, desperate wail pierced my ears.

“Husband, you can’t die! If you leave me, how will we, just a poor widow and her orphaned child, survive?”

I glanced around at the dilapidated house and Amaris Camden, kneeling on the floor before me.

My breath came in ragged gasps and my vision blurred with darkness.

In my past life, Amaris had begged me to let Silas ‘help out’ at home, insisting she couldn’t support both me and the child alone.

But just before I died, I had learned the truth. My beloved wife had long been entangled with Silas.

That so-called ‘helping hand’ was a clever ploy to steal the land my father had left me.

“Once the transplant is done, we’ll just give this sickly waste a little extra dose.”

Amaris’s voice cut through the hospital room, sharp and cold, like a blade meant to wound.

“By then, all the land that old man left behind will be ours!”

Silas rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming with excitement.

My heart clenched a storm of hatred and suffocating fear threatening to swallow me whole.

I steadied my breath and forced a mask of indifference over my face.

“I’m not dead yet. Stop wailing like you’re mourning me.”

Amaris froze, clearly not expecting my response.

But, like a switch, she quickly regained her composure, slipping back into her façade of simplicity and sincerity.

She brought a bowl of dark, murky herbal medicine to me.

“Here, drink this while it’s hot. It’ll make you feel better.”

She reached for my forehead and the coolness of her fingertips jolted me back to reality.

A faint, cheap scent of cosmetics and lingering traces of cigarette smoke clung to her, marking her in a way I hadn’t noticed before.

I turned my head slightly, avoiding her gaze and spoke hoarsely.

“I’m fine. I’ll drink it later…”

Amaris paused, taken aback for a moment.

Then, without missing a beat, she smiled, scooping up a spoonful and bringing it to my lips.

“You’re as stubborn as a mule. Why fight with me over this? Just drink it. Silas will be here soon.”

She tried to feign concern, but her eyes remained fixed on my face as though appraising the value of something precious.

I took stock of my condition, silently weighing my options. Now wasn’t the time to rise against them.

After all, the debts from my past life would slowly but surely be paid in full.