"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.

Delia's heart surged with joy, her pulse racing like it couldn't keep up.

Her eyes welled up for a second, momentarily stunned.

He actually pulled her into his arms-instinctively.

Curtis, oh Curtis... how did she never notice how much you cared?

The car steadied after a brief jolt.

Curtis, realizing his sudden move might've overstepped, immediately let go and nudged her back to her seat, slipping into his usual cool-headed demeanor.

"Sit properly. The road's bumpy," he said flatly, his eyes returning to the window.

But the faint flush creeping up his ears quietly betrayed him.

Delia's lips curled up in a small smile.

She took hold of his hand before he could fully retract it, clinging on like it was the most natural thing.

Her face lifted toward him, eyes bright and teasing. "Hubby, were you worried I'd bump into something? That's why you held me, right?"

Curtis froze, caught off guard. He tried to withdraw his hand, but she had a firm grip on him.

Avoiding her gaze, he swallowed hard, Adam's apple shifting ever so slightly.

Lips tightening, he stayed silent.

But to Delia, that silence screamed louder than any words.

She felt like fireworks had just gone off in her chest.

It's working-her plan was actually working.

Knowing she'd reached her goal, she let go, though she didn't move away from him at all.

"Got it, I'll sit tight. Won't cause you trouble, hubby."

Her voice was soft, almost ticklish, brushing against Curtis's nerves like a feather.

It rattled him-unexpected, yet somehow... familiar. He didn't know how to feel.

But the tender moment didn't last.

Before long, the car rolled up to the poshest hotel in downtown Oceanvale.

Noah expertly parked, got out, and swung open the back door.

"Mr. Stockton, we've arrived."

Curtis nodded, maneuvering his wheelchair to exit.

Delia followed, her eyes automatically drifting up to the glitzy hotel entrance.

She froze, her expression draining of all color.

If she wasn't mistaken, this was the place where Curtis had been attacked.

The hazy memories from her past life started coming back in a rush.

Back then, she'd been flying high from their smooth divorce, too elated to care what he was going through.

Even when Curtis ended up in the hospital, she'd been preoccupied chasing after Nathan.

It wasn't until someone else told her that she finally realized-just a day after the divorce, Curtis had been seriously injured.

Her breath hitched, chest tightening.

"You can't go in there," she blurted out, voice quivering. "Let's just go... go back home, okay?"

Noah was mid-motion unfolding the wheelchair when he heard her sudden protest. His eyebrows scrunched deep.

This woman, she really couldn't go five minutes without acting up.

Seriously?

She'd already been weird in the car-now this?

Curtis paused too.

He turned to look at Delia, frown creasing his forehead.

She had no clue what was running through his mind right then.

All she could do was silently hope-hope he'd still be willing to accept her waywardness like he used to.

His gaze was hard to read as he asked in a low, steady voice, "Delia, what are you talking about?"

Her heart jumped. Big time.

She realized she'd slipped-again-and if she didn't come up with a good cover, things would get way too sketchy.

But this? This secret was the one thing she could never, ever reveal.

What was she supposed to do? Just say, "Hey, I know because you get stabbed in there"?

What if she couldn't stop the ambush? Wouldn't that mean she basically walked him right into the trap?

In that split second, she had to come up with a more believable excuse.

"Ugh..." She clutched her chest, frowning deeply, her voice soft and shaky. "Babe, I'm feeling really awful all of a sudden. Dizzy, and my heart's racing... Do you think I'm getting sick?"

She even squeezed out a couple of tears, trying to look as pitiful as possible.

Her acting wasn't exactly award-worthy-the panic in her eyes hadn't fully faded-but when someone cares, they don't always notice the cracks.

Curtis saw the tear sliding down her cheek, and just like that, his heartstrings got pulled tight.

He didn't push for answers anymore, instead focusing on her pale face.

Delia hardly ever got sick, but whenever she said something wasn't right, he always dealt with it-whether she appreciated it or not.

"Where exactly does it hurt?" Curtis asked, his tone low and serious.

"I don't know... just feel awful." Delia leaned against him, her voice soft. "Can we not go in? I just want to go home and rest a bit with you."

She caught the slight shift in Curtis's expression and held back a smile.

"Boss." Noah finally couldn't stay quiet, his voice edged with urgency. "The meeting's about to start!"

He was fuming.

That woman again-same old tricks.

Did she really have no guilt?

Curtis hesitated for just a fleeting moment.

He looked down at Delia curled up in his arms, eyes full of conflict and worry.

But worry won out in the end.

"Let's go," he said, voice steady but firm. "We'll find another time for the meeting. Hospital comes first."

"Boss..." Noah tried again, desperate.

But the second he met Curtis's anxious gaze, the rest of his words died on his lips.

He clamped his mouth shut in frustration.

He should've seen this coming.

When it came to Delia, Curtis's rules went straight out the window.

No matter how much she hurt him before, he just couldn't bring himself to be cold to her.

Why?

Noah simmered with anger but had no choice-orders were orders.

He helped Curtis and Delia back into the car, turned it around, and headed toward the top private hospital downtown.

In the backseat, Delia secretly let out a breath of relief.

Crisis averted. For now.

She stayed snuggled against Curtis, still faking weakness.

But inside, his quick decision to put her first made her feel warm-and, truthfully, a little smug.

He still cared. That much was clear.

How'd she mess this up so badly in her last life?

With a husband like this, what was she even thinking?

All the way there, Curtis held her gently, and it almost made her forget where they were going.

Eyes half-closed, she quietly soaked in his warmth.

But as the car pulled up to the hospital entrance, Delia finally snapped back to reality.

She froze.

That all-too-familiar white building came into view, and her face instantly went ghost-pale.

Last time, after that fire left her horribly burned, this was where they brought her.

The pain from those burns hurt more than dying-every breath felt like tearing her flesh apart.

She'd wanted to die so many times, anything to escape that slow torture.

And Isabelle, pretending to be caring, had bribed the hospital staff to mess up her treatment.

Wrong meds, wrong bandaging-every mistake made the agony worse.

Her injuries hadn't even been that severe at first, but they ended up ruining her completely. Scarred beyond recognition.

The memories slammed into her like a freight train.

Cold, unforgiving needles. The searing pain. The staff's detached eyes.

And Isabelle's fake smile, smug and twisted with malice...