After being reborn, the first thing my cousin and I did was switch grooms.

In our previous lives, we had gotten married on the same day.

She, gentle and composed by nature, became the wife of Blake Malcolm, the aloof naval commander. On their wedding anniversary, Blake skipped the occasion to celebrate his childhood friend's birthday. My cousin had only wanted an explanation, but Blake claimed his conscience was clear. They fell into a silence that lasted fifty years.

And me? With my temper—quick to fight, never one for patience—I had married an accountant from the machinery plant's compound. The accountant was soft-spoken, forever complaining about how loud I was, and how little I cared about appearances. We fought every three days, major arguments every five. Eventually, he stopped coming home. Less than a year into the marriage, we divorced.

Then one day, my cousin and I opened our eyes—and it was the day we were to marry again.

"Joyce! Get off the damn train right now, you stupid girl! You won't marry a perfectly good accountant for a husband, but you'll run off to some godforsaken island. Why did I have to give birth to such a troublesome child…"

Watching my mother chase the train, yelling, her voice tight with fury and helplessness, I felt a dull ache rise in my chest. But I told myself—this time, I wasn't wrong.

Scholcher Island was remote. Blake Malcolm wasn't exactly easy to live with, either. But so what? If we could make it work, great. If not, we'd part ways cleanly. I was a grown woman—was I supposed to not survive without a man?

But my cousin, Sarah Cameron... she couldn't. In our last lives, she married Blake, and the two of them were trapped in a lifetime of misunderstanding because of someone else. She was the gentlest soul you could meet, and even she couldn't escape being worn down by him.

So this time, after being reborn, I looked at Sarah's worried face, her furrowed brow, and started packing without hesitation.

"Sarah, I'll marry Blake. John Ridgewood might not look like much, but he's got a good temper. You two should be able to make it work."

At my words, her face lit up with relief, but then she bit her lip and shook her head with resolve. "Joyce, Blake isn't easy to live with. And then there's that childhood friend of his... I can't let you take on my sufferings."

"Sarah, it's an arranged marriage we can't shake off. What does it matter who marries him? Grandpa never said which granddaughter it had to be. And just because Blake isn't easy to live with, doesn't mean I can't handle him. If I get to Scholcher Island and we can make it work, we make it work. If not, I'll fight. If there's a grudge, I'll settle it. No hesitation, no regrets. Living freely is what matters most!"

I threw a few punches in the air right then and there, putting on a bit of a show.

Sarah couldn't help but laugh through her tears, tapping me lightly on the forehead. "Joyce…"

Unlike her, graceful and soft-spoken, I'd been doing MMA since elementary school. I never bothered with unnecessary words if I could settle something with action. That's why John and I never got along. He fancied himself a scholar, always quoting books and spouting theories. I hated how pretentious he was, and he hated how little I resembled a proper woman.

Our life together hadn't been any better than hers with Blake. Within a year, we split.

So this time, I figured—why not let Sarah marry John? John lived close to home, and even if things didn't work out, at least she'd have family nearby. That was still better than being stranded alone on Scholcher Island, mistreated with no one to turn to, slowly wasting away in silence.

As I thought this, I clung to her hand, pestering her with all the charm I could muster. In the end, she let out a sigh and nodded.

"Fine. We'll switch."

And just like that, I boarded the train to Scholcher Island, suitcase in hand.

What I didn't expect was how fast my mother would catch up.

I'd left a letter behind—clear and thorough. What was there to worry about?

"I'm going to Scholcher Island to get married. If it doesn't work out, I'll come back!" I shouted at my mom as she ran after the train.

I slept and ate my way through the three-day, two-night journey. Before I knew it, I was in Grangerdeen.

I grabbed my bags and squeezed onto the boat to Scholcher Island. I'd thought I could sleep through that too, but I hadn't considered one thing—seasickness.

By the time we docked, my face was pale as paper and my whole body reeked of something awful.

Sitting at the military checkpoint, waiting for Blake to come pick me up, I couldn't help thinking of myself just minutes ago, puking my guts out. I felt oddly thankful. At least it was me, not my delicate cousin. She would've never survived that kind of misery.

"Blake, why does this place smell so weird? I feel sick…"

Just as I was lost in thought, a syrupy sweet voice rang out in front of me. I looked up.

A girl with long braids stood nearby, delicate and willowy, her fingers pinching her nose as she turned to the man beside her, voice full of complaint.

I followed her gaze. The man was tall, ramrod straight, face expressionless like a statue carved from iron.

Rolling my eyes, I said, "You're Blake Malcolm, right? I'm your fiancée, Joyce Cameron. Take a look at the engagement letter. If everything checks out, find me somewhere to rest."

I tossed my suitcase in his direction, ignoring the girl's wounded expression, then stood up and headed straight for the door.

"Blake, does she not like me...?" Leila Burgman's voice trailed behind me, pitiful and meek.

Already exhausted from the long trip and nauseous from the boat ride, I felt a flare of irritation rise in my chest.

"What are you saying? Do I even know you?" I snapped.

Turning my head slightly, I barked, "Blake, are you a man or not? Can you move your damn legs a little faster?"

I didn't bother checking their reactions. With a scowl on my face, I kept walking.

A few steps later, I noticed someone following me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it was Blake, carrying my luggage with that same unreadable look on his face.

No explanation. No reaction.

No wonder my cousin spent her whole past life miserable. Leila was a pretentious bitch; Blake was one tight-lipped stoic man—Sarah, proud and sensitive, never stood a chance.

But I'm not made of the same soft material. If I'm happy, I can live with anything. If I'm not, I'll make sure everyone shares in my misery.

Since the childhood engagement was real, and Blake's family had already called ahead, Blake had filed the marriage report before I even arrived.

So, a couple of days later, our wedding was thrown together with the help of the military wives, bustling around with loud enthusiasm.

Blake's parents had passed away long ago, and my own family was too far off to attend. The guests were all comrades and wives from the base. Still, the atmosphere was lively. The whole family compound buzzed with celebration.

"I'm so jealous of Joyce," Leila said. "Because of an old family engagement, she gets to marry Blake. She's so lucky... unlike me..."

Her voice trailed off, breaking into quiet sobs.

The laughter and chatter of the yard faded into awkward silence. The guests exchanged looks as the sound of soft weeping filled the space.

I glanced over. Leila had her face buried in her hands, shoulders trembling.

I smiled, took two steps forward, stood on tiptoe, and wrapped my arms around Blake's head.

I kissed him square on the lips.

Then I raised my eyebrows at her smugly. "That's right. I'm the lucky one. Blake has a career, looks, and a body that—well, you know. A man like him needs a lucky woman like me. Otherwise, someone with bad luck might not be able to handle all this good fortune."

I grinned and pinched Blake's waist, hard.

Then I leaned in, eyes gleaming with mock-sweetness. "Right, Blake?"

His face stayed expressionless, but his ears turned a shade redder.

Before he could say a word, Leila looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, her voice soft and fragile.

"Blake, Joyce, please don't misunderstand. I really do wish you both happiness."

"If Joyce doesn't like me, I won't attend the wedding today. But..." Her voice trembled, and tears slid down her cheeks. "Blake, don't forget to pick me up tomorrow. We've always spent that day together, remember?"

Blake nodded. "I'll come. I'll bring the things. Don't worry."

The hand I'd wrapped around his waist shifted instinctively.

And then—bam—I flipped him clean over my shoulder.

The courtyard fell into a stunned silence. Everyone stared at me in disbelief.

Seriously? Pulling this kind of stunt at my wedding? And what was that about a special day?

Last time around, the two of them had gone off to celebrate it like it was some sacred anniversary. When they came back, they didn't give Sarah so much as a word of explanation. That icy silence between them lasted a lifetime.

'But I'm not Sarah. She could swallow that kind of thing. I can't—not even a little.

'Wanna go celebrate that day? Go ahead. I'll fight you right there and then, throw my things in a bag, and leave this godforsaken island without a second thought.

'Did you think the daughters of the Cameron family are desperate to marry? If it weren't for the elders clinging to some ancient promise, I'd be living my best life right now—no strings, no nonsense.'

"Blake, are you hurt? You can't treat him like this, Joyce. He's a man—how could you just..." Leila's pale face flushed with fury, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at Blake.

But Blake had already straightened up. He gave me a long, unreadable glance, then cleared his throat with a light cough and said calmly, "I'm fine."

Then, like nothing had happened, he came over and took my hand. "You're coming with me tomorrow."

I blinked in surprise. Leila looked completely betrayed.

"Blake! How could you?" she cried. "I'm never speaking to you again!"

She burst into tears and ran out, hands covering her face.

Then I felt the heat of his breath by my ear. "Let's finish the wedding first. I'll explain everything later, okay?"

With the nuisance out of the picture and me not quite in the mood to make a scene, the guests stayed quiet, and the ceremony moved along quickly.

Not long after, I was in the bridal room, slapping the mattress hard with my palm.

'What the hell was that earlier? Was that supposed to be some kind of seductive act? Hmph. As if that would work on me.'

Click.

The door opened, and Blake stepped inside. My face darkened immediately.

"I'm telling you now, I can't stand men who don't know where they stand," I said coldly. "If you're planning to have other women clinging to you every other day, then let's just end this right here. Don't waste my time. I'll head home and marry someone better."

He frowned. "My grandfather arranged our marriage. Since I married you, I'll take responsibility."

I scoffed. "Pfft. Blake. Let me tell you—if our marriage works out, great. If it doesn't, we split. When they arranged this marriage, there was no fine print saying I had to be yours for life."

"You…" He looked genuinely rattled, pacing back and forth in the room.

Then he sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for my hand. "Joyce, there is nothing between Leila and me. Never was, never will be. I truly want to make this marriage work."

He held my hand tightly despite my resistance. "I'm not good with words. If there's anything you don't like, just say it. I'll change whatever I can."

Under the warm glow of the wedding room lights, his face was serious and sincere.

My cheeks burned for no reason. I nodded, trying to sound casual. "Fine. I've got a temper. If you can deal with it, then we're good."

Seeing the smile in his eyes made me unreasonably annoyed. I leaned in and grabbed him by the neck, kissing him hard.

Soon, our breathing grew heavier. Blake, worthy of his title as a naval commander, quickly took the lead. His hand moved to my buttons, eyes locked onto mine with a hoarse whisper. "Can I, honey?"

Flustered, I pinched him hard.

Why ask now?

His low chuckle brushed against my neck as he whispered, "My bad…"

The heat of his breath against my skin made me close my eyes.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sudden knocking at the door shattered the moment.

"Blake! Leila left a letter. She's gone!"

Blake's body stiffened instantly. He stood up.

"Honey, get some rest. I'll be back soon."

I glared at him, fury burning in my chest.

"There are tons of people in the unit. Why the hell does it have to be you? Do you have any idea what night this is? It's our wedding night!"