Delia woke up to a sharp, throbbing pain.

She struggled to lift her heavy eyelids, her blurry vision slowly sharpening.

Where was this?

Definitely not hell.

The last thing she remembered was the searing pain of bones shattering.

And Curtis...

His name hit her like a knife to the chest.

She jerked her head up, eyes darting around in panic.

Not too far away, someone sat on the couch.

The man was dressed in a fitted black shirt with an undone collar.

Even though he was in a wheelchair, his back was straight, posture tense, like he was carrying the weight of the world.

His head drooped slightly, a few strands of black hair falling over his brows, shadowing his face.

Still, Delia recognized him instantly.

Curtis.

A rush of shock and overwhelming joy swelled up inside her.

She barely noticed the pain anymore, stumbling across the room like her life depended on it, throwing herself at his figure.

"Curtis!" she choked out, her voice breaking.

She clung to him like a drowning person grabbing the last lifeline, burying her tear-streaked face into his chest.

After what felt like forever, Delia straightened, reluctantly cupping Curtis's face with both hands.

The moment she launched into his arms, Curtis froze up completely.

He just sat there, stunned.

This... this wasn't the reaction he'd expected.

If he'd learned anything from their past arguments, she should've been screaming, blaming him-or threatening with something dramatic.

Now, seeing her in tears, clinging onto him like that, his brows furrowed deeply.

It hadn't even been that long ago she was tearing him apart with cruel words, saying she'd rather die than keep this marriage going.

And now this? What game was she playing now?

He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt, a cold spot blooming across his chest.

Her slender fingers brushed against his face, soft and cool to the touch. There was a flicker of something unfamiliar in him-but it didn't last.

The hope died almost as quickly as it came.

He'd seen enough of her emotional whiplash to know better.

"Let go," Curtis said flatly.

"No," Delia murmured, holding him tighter.

With tears still clinging to her lashes, she stared hard at the man she hadn't seen for what felt like a lifetime.

Sharp brows, dark eyes, that tightly pressed mouth that strangled so many words before they formed-damn, why hadn't she noticed before?

He was exactly her type.

Without thinking, her face inched closer-then she bit his lip.

"Mmm-!" Curtis's eyes widened, but she had him locked in place, arms tight around him.

Delia clumsily ran her tongue along the spot, then let go, stunned at what she'd just done.

Her cheeks flamed. "I... I didn't mean to..."

Would he even buy that?

She wanted to slap herself. What the hell was she thinking?

Great timing to lose control and plant one on him.

Curtis's expression shifted between awkward and annoyed, even a little shy somehow.

"What are you doing now?" His voice was low, his ears visibly red as he tried to calm down.

He used to dream about her kissing him-but not like this.

This just felt like some awkward joke, something thrown his way without real meaning.

Curtis shut his eyes, inhaling what remained of her scent.

When he opened them again, Delia was still frozen there, hand covering her mouth, staring like she'd completely glitched.

He took advantage of her dazed state, gave her a light shove.

Delia, still weak, stumbled back and landed on the cold floor.

A flash of concern crossed his face, but it vanished a second later.

As she looked up at him with wet eyes full of sorrow, she whispered, "Curtis, I..."

"That's enough," Curtis interrupted, his voice flat and drained, like he'd already given up. "I've agreed to it."

"They're printing the divorce papers right now. Let's just sign them in a bit."

Divorce papers?

A sudden jolt pulled Delia back-right, today was the day.

This was the day, in her past life, when she'd threatened to take her own life just to make him agree to the divorce.

Fear surged up inside her like a tidal wave.

No, not this time.

She'd gotten another chance-how could she possibly let him go again?

"I'm not divorcing you," she blurted out, shaking her head fiercely. "Curtis, I changed my mind. I don't want the divorce."

She sounded frantic, almost out of breath trying to make him believe her. "I'm serious. I really regret it!"

Curtis gave her a long, unreadable look before a tiny, bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Just sign it."

Then he turned around and walked out without giving her another glance.

Seeing him leave made Delia panic. She tried to chase after him, but her sore body lagged behind.

Without thinking, she wiped tear tracks from her face-only to freeze.

Her skin was smooth. Like porcelain.

Gone were the disfiguring scars from the fire.

In disbelief, she looked down at her hands.

Aside from a little scrape on her wrist from when she fell earlier, her skin was pale and flawless.

She quickly ran her fingers along her neck-no burn marks. Nothing. Everything was intact.

Delia dug her nails into her arm.

It hurt. Bad.

She winced.

But the pain was real-so was this place. The study. Curtis sitting in his wheelchair.

And her body, untouched by fire...

The thought hit her like a thunderclap.

Had she... come back?

Was this a second shot at everything?

And just like that, joy and grief crashed into her all at once, tears spilling even as she smiled through them.

Curtis was just pulling the door open when he glanced back-and saw the mess Delia had become.

In his eyes, she'd finally lost it. All this madness, just over a divorce?

His expression froze for half a second before he masked whatever he felt, turning away again.

Delia scrambled up from the floor, not even worrying about the tangled mess her hair had become.

She could hear the soft hum of wheels from downstairs now-Curtis's wheelchair.

His legs were injured. He couldn't walk without it.

He hadn't gone far.

A spark of hope lit up in her chest.

She darted out of the study, her only thought to get to him.

"Curtis, hold on!"

Ignoring the spinning in her head, she staggered toward him as fast as she could.

All she saw was his back, moving further away.

She couldn't let him leave. Not like this.

In her last life, everything fell apart the moment they divorced.

This time, she had to stop him-whatever it took.

Delia pushed herself, sprinting until she caught him just as he was about to open the front door.

She spread her arms wide, blocking his path.

She was panting hard, shoulders rising and falling with each breath, a total wreck-but her eyes were blazing.

"What now?" Curtis stared at her, brows pulled tight.

Did she seriously want out this badly?

So badly she couldn't wait and had to bolt now?

His lips twitched, another self-deprecating smile threatening to show.

Maybe she really hated him.

But then-she shook her head.

She met his eyes, voice trembling, "Curtis, listen to me. I'm not going through with the divorce."

Where should she even begin?

If she told him the truth-that she'd been reborn-he'd probably think she'd gone completely off the rails.

Delia's throat felt dry as sand. She drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to focus.

Then she locked eyes with him, holding his skeptical gaze with everything she had.

"I regret it... suddenly, I feel like our marriage wasn't that bad after all..."

She was just about to go on.

"You don't need to say this." His voice was low. "You've endured long enough-I should've let go sooner."

The silence between them thickened, like the air had turned too heavy to breathe.

Delia was starting to panic. "I don't want to leave. Babe, I just want to be with you."

Curtis's reaction threw her completely off.

In desperation, she said it-"babe."

Sure enough, Curtis froze for a split second.

"Babe, come on, we're husband and wife-when was there ever any real grudge?" Delia tried to keep the momentum going. "I kissed you, didn't I?"

Curtis hesitated, caught totally off guard. The words he meant to say got stuck in his throat.

He stared at the woman in front of him, a mix of disbelief and confusion in his eyes.

Had she completely lost it?

Even though, deep down, being called that did stir a little something in him.

But he quickly got a grip and said slowly, "Delia, I know you've been waiting for this moment."

He backed up about half a meter in his wheelchair.

"I'm sorry we dragged this out so long. I know it frustrated you."

Right as the words left his mouth, hurried footsteps echoed from down the hallway.

Delia's heart sank.

Noah Hyde was approaching with a document in hand.

He spotted Delia blocking the doorway and his face instantly darkened. Almost like pure instinct, he lunged forward, positioning himself squarely between her and Curtis.

"Miss Fleming," Noah said tightly, anger simmering just beneath the surface, though his tone still showed restraint. "What are you trying to do now? The divorce papers are ready. Please don't push Mr. Stockton any further."

Noah was practically boiling on the inside.

He'd seen how much Curtis had given for this woman-and how much heartbreak she'd handed back in return.

The endless outbursts, the cruel words, even using suicide to force a breakup.

And now that her demands were finally being met, she showed up pretending to be the wronged party?

He couldn't wrap his head around why Curtis still tolerated her.

Even going as far as warning him: no matter what Delia did, no one was allowed to touch a hair on her head.

She didn't deserve a fraction of Curtis's kindness...

But Curtis raised a hand, signaling him to stand down.

"It's okay. Step back," he said calmly.

He took the divorce papers from Noah and rolled forward, holding them out to Delia.

She stared at the cold, emotionless paper.

In her last life, signing those had been the moment she unknowingly pushed away the man who loved her most.

It had been the gateway into a nightmare carefully crafted by Isabelle and Nathan.

That regret now hit hard-her hands trembled uncontrollably, and her eyes shimmered with tears.

She looked at Curtis, pleading silently with her gaze.

But what she felt inside, Curtis read differently.

To him, she just seemed overly emotional. Like even sharing the same room with him was torture.

Like she couldn't wait to be done with this so she could finally breathe.

So, in her eyes, he saw joy-joy at being free.

Maybe, to her, he was just some heavy baggage she was finally ditching.

The sting in his chest spread like wildfire, sharp and bitter.

Any trace of hesitation disappeared completely.

Curtis's expression fell. He withdrew the papers sharply.

"Seems like you really are happy to get divorced. Fine. The sooner it's done, the better-for both of us."

He turned toward Noah. "Pen."

Noah immediately handed over an expensive fountain pen with both hands.

Curtis took the pen, flipped straight to the last page of the agreement, and signed his name cleanly without a pause.

Once done, he handed the papers back to Delia.

"Here. Sign it."

Signing meant they'd be completely done. No turning back.

Delia still remembered the mess she made in her past life.

Choosing to leave Curtis, betraying him, and in the end... disfigured, ruined, with nothing left.

No way she was signing that thing. No chance.

She clenched her jaw, staring right at Curtis.

"Honey, I'm not signing."

"Let's say I never brought it up, okay? And if you keep pushing it... I might just kiss you again."

She folded her arms across her chest stubbornly, her lips twitching into a defiant line. She meant it.

Curtis froze mid-motion, the papers still in hand.

A faint blush slipped onto his face.

Why did that freaking weird kiss just pop into his head again?

Curtis narrowed his eyes and drew in a long breath, then looked straight at Delia's face.

Something felt off.

Before, all she ever did was cry and throw tantrums to force him to let go-so she could leave.

But now? She was digging in her heels, refusing to let go. That didn't feel fake.

She even kissed him... and made that weird threat to do it again.

Could she actually mean it?

But just as soon as the idea took shape, Curtis brutally shut it down.

He couldn't afford that kind of hope. Not again. Every time he reached for it, it just led to more pain.

He let out a tired sigh.

"So what is it that you really want now?"

"Curtis... I was blinded before. I get it now. Let me stay with you, okay?"

Delia looked up at him like she was on the edge of crying, voice soft but firm, eyes full of desperate sincerity.

Curtis didn't say a word for a good while. His gaze was dark, searching her, almost like trying to read her mind.

Then he finally looked away.

He shoved the signed agreement into Noah's hands.

Noah stepped forward immediately, perfectly cutting off Delia.

"Miss Fleming, please sign here."

He just didn't get it.

This woman hurt Curtis over and over, and now here she was, playing the "I'm so sorry, I love you" card again.

And for some reason, Curtis was still giving her another chance.

Delia didn't even glance at the pen. She slapped it right out of his hand.

The pen hit the ground, bounced a few times, and let out a crisp clatter.

"I said I'm not signing." Delia looked past Noah and locked eyes with Curtis, who sat silently in his wheelchair.

"Can you leave us alone for a minute? I've got something personal to say to my husband."

She knew Curtis wouldn't kick her out. Not completely. Not yet.

Noah's brows furrowed tight. He was ready to say no on instinct.

He'd seen too many sides of this woman-how fast she could flip from one extreme to the other.

Leaving Curtis alone with her? No telling what chaos she'd stir up.

He opened his mouth to protest-but didn't get the chance.

"Noah," Curtis's voice cut in, low and steady, "go wait in the car."

"Boss-!" Noah blurted out.

Right... on paper, he was just Curtis's bodyguard-slash-driver.

Almost let something slip just then.

Curtis raised a hand, shutting that down quickly.

"I said, go wait in the car."

Noah clamped his mouth shut, shot Delia a sharp glare, but didn't push it further.

He bent down, picked up the pen, then shuffled out the door, glancing back every few steps.

Curtis turned his wheelchair to face Delia again, staring at her quietly.

She'd asked for the divorce, now backtracked, cried all over him, swore she wouldn't leave.

Even kissed him. And now? She kept looking at him like she'd do it again.

His jaw tightened.

"If you've got something to say, say it now."

Delia's heart pounded in her chest like a drum.

Going back to the Flemings-yeah, no thanks. That so-called warm home? More like a trap full of manipulation.

It'd just be a repeat of her last life-getting played and dragged down with them.

This second shot at life was a literal miracle.

But could she actually tell him that?

Maybe... maybe another kiss would work? Curtis seemed to lose his cool with that.

No, wait. She had a better idea.

Taking a deep breath, Delia marched toward him.

Before Curtis could even react, she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

Her cheek rested gently against his broad shoulder.

"Babe..."

Her voice was soft and warm, the breath brushing against his ear. "I love you. Why would I ever want to leave you?"

Curtis stiffened instantly, and his ears turned red in real time.

Since they'd gotten married, she'd never said anything like that to him.

It had always been sarcasm, cold looks, nothing like this.

That out-of-the-blue confession totally threw him off. His heart raced, mind a mess.

His first instinct was to push her away-his arm halfway up-but then the strength just vanished.

He cleared his throat, trying-and failing-to keep it together. "Delia, don't... don't do this."

"I mean it!"

Sensing that he wasn't resisting as hard anymore, Delia lit up inside, jumping on the chance.

She lifted her head and gently held his face, making him look at her.

Her eyes were serious, sincere-nothing like before.

"Let's just live like a real couple from now on, okay? No more separation, no more mess. Just... us."

Curtis's eyes flickered wildly.

Everything she said, all these feelings, made him deeply unsettled.

He didn't say anything.

His silence made Delia panic a bit.

Just as she opened her mouth to keep going, fast footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Noah was back, face full of urgency. "Boss, we just got word-if we don't leave now, we're gonna miss it..."

He didn't finish, but the look in his eyes said the rest.

Today was the big meeting with Grandway Holdings.

Curtis immediately snapped back to reality.

This deal was huge. He couldn't afford to be late.

Any emotion on his face disappeared in a blink, replaced with his usual calm and detached look.

He gave a small nod. "Got it. Let's go."

He backed up a few feet, avoiding Delia's eyes completely.

Without another word, he maneuvered his wheelchair toward the exit.

Delia suddenly stood there in a daze, something clicking in her mind.

The day after their divorce in her past life... a terrifying incident had happened.

A madman had snuck into the meeting hall and gone straight for Curtis with a knife.

He got out with his life, but just barely-and the injuries left him in the hospital for ages, his health taking a nosedive.

No way was she letting that happen again.

This was her chance-to keep that fate from repeating.

"Wait." The words flew out of her mouth. "I'm going too."

Noah shot her a glare, his irritation written all over his face. "Miss Fleming, please don't cause more problems."

He was fed up with this woman clinging onto Curtis like a damn burr.

Was she planning to mess up the meeting?

Curtis also paused, turning to Delia. "Why?"

He was genuinely confused at how unpredictable she'd been acting all morning.

He wouldn't believe the truth if she told him outright.

She blinked at him and said, "Because I'm worried about you. And I'm not leaving until you promise me you're not divorcing me."

"I'm coming. Or I'm camping out right here all day."

Delia stood firm in front of him, her expression serious and a little bratty.

The way she pouted and demanded to go with him, though? Sounded completely ridiculous.

Curtis stared at her in silence. Maybe letting her come along wasn't a big deal after all.

It wasn't like he could stop her anyway-might as well go with the flow.

Plus, he had to admit, he was a little curious too.

"Alright," Curtis finally said, giving in.

A weight instantly lifted off Delia's chest. She beamed.

Raising her chin a bit, she shot a glance at the clearly unhappy Noah.

"You heard that, Mr. Hyde? Your boss said yes."

"Oh, and from now on, call me Mrs. Stockton. Stop with the 'Miss Fleming', it's getting old."

Noah choked on his breath, his face flushing from red to white.

Seeing that Curtis didn't object, he was completely speechless.

After holding it in for a bit, he forced out, "Alright... Mrs. Stockton."

Even though his tone was filled with reluctance, Delia was quite pleased with herself.

She slid her arm around Curtis's, leaning in sweetly. "Let's go then, hubby. Don't wanna be late!"

Curtis stiffened slightly but didn't move away, letting her cling to him.

Noah, pushing the wheelchair, followed silently behind as the three of them headed toward the waiting car.

*****

The backseat of the luxury car was spacious, but the air felt... awkward.

Delia immediately took the spot right next to Curtis.

Noah glanced at the scene through the rearview mirror, the corners of his lips twitching just a bit.

But he didn't say anything-just quietly buckled his seatbelt.

The car started smoothly.

As he drove, Noah gave a simple update: "Boss, the rest of them are almost there."

Curtis, eyes closed and resting, gave a quiet "Mm" to show he heard.

Sitting beside him, Delia could clearly smell the crisp scent on him.

She shifted a little closer.

Curtis must've noticed-his lashes fluttered-but he didn't open his eyes or move away.

Delia reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his collar as she straightened his tie.

Her fingertips grazed the skin near his neck, and she caught the subtle movement of his Adam's apple.

"Your tie's a bit crooked," she said softly.

Curtis seemed to stiffen up even more.

"...Thanks," he murmured after a pause, giving a tiny nod.

Delia was thrilled. Feeling bolder, she moved her hand to his shoulder and started gently massaging it.

"You must be so tense from all that work. Let me help you relax a bit."

Noah, catching the scene in the mirror, nearly lost grip on the wheel.

What was going on with Miss Fleming today?

Not only was she not talking about divorce anymore-she was actually pampering Mr. Stockton?!

This was wilder than seeing pigs fly.

Delia saw his horrified face and only dialed up the drama.

She leaned close to Curtis's ear, her voice teasing and sultry.

"What do you think, babe? I've got magic hands. I could pamper you like this every day..."

"Ahem! Cough, cough-" Noah choked hard, startled by the bold words.

His hands jerked, and the car briefly wobbled on the road.

The moment the car swayed, Curtis's eyes snapped open.

Without even thinking, he reached out with one arm and pulled Delia straight into his chest.

"Keep your eyes on the road," Curtis said sharply.

Cold sweat broke out on Noah's forehead. "Y-Yes, Boss!"

He quickly pulled himself together, gripping the wheel tightly, and didn't dare look back again.

Wait... Mr. Stockton... actually pulled Delia into his arms?

Delia, curled up against Curtis, was utterly stunned.

Her cheek rested right against his firm chest, and she could clearly hear his steady, strong heartbeat.

The scent of him lingered near her nose, calming and familiar.