On Christmas Eve, my son Cody had a severe asthma attack and was on the brink of death.

As he took his last breath, his only wish was to see his father one last time.

But I couldn't tell him the truth: that his father, Blake, was at a Christmas party with his mistress's child, happily unwrapping presents.

I frantically called his father, but the calls went straight to voicemail.

My son passed away, his heart filled with regret, and my own heart turned to ash. I leaped from the roof of our penthouse.

Now, I’m reborn. And as I look at the man standing before me, his eyes filled with guilt, my heart is a silent, dead sea.

"Just this once, Scarlett. Kyle has a fever, and he really needs me—"

I cut him off, strode over, and scooped up my son, Cody.

"Get out of my sight."

"Evelyn," he choked out, "it was her—impersonating you all along."

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1

I never thought I would be reborn.

The memory of Cody going still in my arms is burned into my soul.

My first life was a tragedy from start to finish.

Before Cody took his last breath, his only wish was to see his father, whom he hadn't seen in over a month.

But I didn't dare tell him the truth. I couldn't reach Blake Sterling at all. The countless messages and calls I sent were met with a wall of silence.

Then, I found the truth on Jessica Miller's Instagram. Blake had been celebrating Christmas with her and her son, Kyle.

In the photo, Blake was holding Kyle, his smile absolutely radiant. The caption read: "Kyle is so happy to have someone with him for Christmas this year."

Despair, rage, and bitterness swallowed me whole.

My despair was so raw that even a child like Cody could feel it.

"Mommy, is Daddy not coming back to see me?" he asked, his voice frail.

I could only hold him tight, apologizing over and over. I felt his small body grow cold, then stiffen, until the last wisp of life slipped away.

Outside the window, Christmas lights painted the New York night in a kaleidoscope of colors. But inside, my son had stopped breathing, his heart filled with a regret I could never undo.

With his passing, my will to live crumbled.

After gently laying Cody down, I walked onto the balcony of our penthouse apartment. Consumed by despair, I followed him and leaped.

As my soul floated above my cold, broken body, I saw someone I never expected. It was Blake.

He rushed to my side, tears streaming down his face, screaming for the doctors to save me.

But my skull was shattered. How could they possibly save me?

My soul shrieked at him to get away, to not dare touch my body. The sight of him made me sick. If I could, I would have torn him apart with my own hands.

But I could do nothing.

I never expected to be reborn.

No one could understand the ecstasy I felt realizing I had another chance. No one could fathom the sheer self-control it took not to break down sobbing when I saw a living, breathing Cody standing before me again.

I had a chance to start over. This time, I swore I would rewrite our ending.

As for Blake? He deserved to go to hell.

The Blake standing before me now wore his usual apologetic expression. He gently patted Cody's head and said, "Cody, I'm sorry. Daddy has something urgent to take care of, but I promise I'll be back soon."

"Scarlett, this is the last time. Kyle has a fever, and he really needs me right now…"

Cody was reluctant, but as always, he never questioned his father's decisions.

He was so mature for his age it was heartbreaking.

I glared at Blake's face. The mere sight of him made my stomach churn.

I covered Cody's eyes with one hand and, with the other, I swung with all my strength, slapping him hard across the face.

Slap!

The crisp sound exploded in the room.

"Taking care of your mistress and another man's son is more important than being with your own sick child? You call that responsibility?" I spat.

Blake was stunned. He clutched his cheek, his face twisting from disbelief to shame, then to anger. He pointed a trembling finger at me, gritting his teeth. "Scarlett Sterling, you're being completely irrational!"

"Jessica is a single mother! She has no one else in New York. Is it so wrong for me to help her? Why do you have to make everything sound so sordid?"

I didn't bother to respond. I picked up Cody and walked straight to the door. Blake followed, still spouting his self-righteous justifications. I didn't look back. I just opened the door, turned, and said coldly:

"Get out of my sight."

My cold words left him speechless. He stood there for a long moment before finally slinking away, dejected.

In the past, whenever he walked out that door without a second thought, my heart would shatter. I’d let my grief consume me, neglecting Cody in the process.

Not this time. I would never let history repeat itself.

A man like him deserved nothing but hell.

The moment Blake was gone, I grabbed Cody and left the apartment.

Cody wrapped his arms around my neck, his innocent, wide eyes filled with curiosity. "Mommy, where are we going?" he asked, his voice small.

Thankfully, I’d been reborn just in time.

Although Cody's psychological trauma was already severe, it wasn't too late to fix it.

I stroked his head and smiled gently. "I'm taking you somewhere fun. From now on, I promise I'll make you happy every single day. No one will ever hurt you again, okay?"

Cody's face lit up, and he nodded eagerly.

Holding him, I hailed a cab and headed to a top-tier child development center in New York.

"Could you please arrange for the best psychologist for us?" I asked the front desk.

The receptionist was efficient, and by a stroke of luck, the center's highly acclaimed psychologist, Julian Bennett, was available.

The moment Cody saw him, he was instantly at ease.

"Mommy," he whispered in my ear, "I like this doctor. His eyes get all sparkly when he looks at me."

Julian approached us with a warm smile. "Shall we go play some games?"

Cody was usually shy around strangers, but there was something disarmingly kind in the man's gaze.

He reached out to Julian without hesitation and didn't resist when he was lifted into his arms.

Watching Julian gently guide him through the psychological assessment, I felt the massive weight on my heart finally begin to lift.

Just then, my phone buzzed. A direct message from Jessica on Instagram.

It was a photo. In it, Blake was holding Kyle, gently coaxing him to sleep. Jessica was leaning on Blake's shoulder, nestled closely against him.

It was a picture of domestic bliss. Who wouldn't think they were the perfect family?

She'd sent a message along with it.

'Blake is surprisingly good at getting Kyle to sleep. He must be a great dad at home, always helping you with your son, right?'

A great dad? I let out a scornful laugh.

Blake had never been a "great dad" until Jessica, newly divorced, reappeared in his life.

I had gotten pregnant with Cody due to a contraceptive failure.

When I first found out, Blake made his stance clear: he didn't like children. If I insisted on having the baby, he wouldn't know how to be a good father.

In short, he wanted me to have an abortion.

But how could I? The child was already a part of me.

I insisted on keeping Cody, and Blake gave me the cold shoulder for months. It was only much later that he reluctantly gave in. When Cody was born, he stayed true to his word.

He shouldered none of the responsibilities of a father.

Postpartum recovery, newborn care, even the smallest bit of support—he always had an excuse. Work was too busy, his schedule too packed. I handled everything alone.

Cody grew up in a home practically devoid of fatherly love. It wasn't until he was older, cried less, and was easier to manage that Blake began to show him a sliver of affection.

I used to tell myself he just wasn't a "kid person" and I couldn't force him.

But I eventually realized the truth. It wasn't that he disliked children; he just disliked my child.

The day Jessica announced her divorce, Blake didn't come home.

Later, I saw him in a video she posted. He was fumbling to soothe a crying baby.

"Blake said he doesn't know how to soothe babies," Jessica chirped to the camera, laughing playfully. "But he's willing to learn! Hahaha, I'm so thrilled!"

This was the same man who used to frown in annoyance at the sound of Cody's cries. Now, he was smiling so wide his eyes crinkled, completely unfazed by another child's wails.

That child wasn't even his. He was Jessica's with her ex-husband.

And yet, Blake doted on that child as if he were his own flesh and blood.

My Cody got nothing.

I ignored Jessica's blatant provocation. Our "exchanges" were just her sending well-crafted taunts into a void of my silence.

In the past, I was too heartbroken to respond. Now, I was simply indifferent, a spectator to her drama, waiting for the perfect moment to deliver the fatal blow.

I calmly took a screenshot of the tens of millions of dollars in our joint investment account.

Then, I sent it to Jessica.

She fell silent.

But I knew it was just the calm before the storm. Patience had never been her virtue.

After that day, Blake never came home.

I knew he was waiting for me to break down and beg him to return.

But the compliant Scarlett who used to bend to his will was the one who had been in love with him. That woman was dead.

Now, I couldn't care less where he was.

I devoted myself entirely to Cody's treatment, praying Blake would never show his face again. Perhaps it was my brush with death, or perhaps it was my newfound indifference to him, but the depression that had plagued me for years simply vanished.

Men, I thought with a sneer. Good for nothing but ruining a perfectly good mood.

Even though Blake wasn't home, it wasn't hard to guess where he was. Jessica's Instagram was a running diary of their "happy" family vacation in the Hamptons with her son, Kyle.

The posts painted a picture of domestic bliss.

Anyone who saw them would comment on how blissful their "family of three" looked. Mutual friends, clearly out of the loop, asked if they had gotten back together. A few even speculated if Kyle was Blake’s biological son.

In response, Blake would leave carefully worded clarifications. 'Kyle is very young and has effectively lost his father. I'm just trying to give him the complete childhood he deserves. Please don't read too much into it.'

His words were so noble, as if he were some kind of saint.

I would occasionally like his posts, but I never left a single comment. Not a word, not an emoji.

Nothing.

Meanwhile, his name always appeared in my 'recent visitors' list across all social media. He was watching me. I ignored it.

The next day, Jessica's feed would inevitably feature more saccharine accounts of Blake's doting father routine.

While I put Cody to sleep, he put Kyle to sleep. While I attended Cody's parent-teacher conference, he attended Kyle's. While I sat with Cody through therapy, he was fussing over Kyle's scraped finger like it was a mortal wound.

A nosy neighbor cornered me in the hallway. "Haven't seen the kid's dad around. Where's he been?"

I smiled faintly, my voice flat. "He's dead."

The neighbor just sighed and walked away.

After a few days of silence, Jessica messaged me again.

Jessica: 'Aren't you curious where Blake is? He's amazing with Kyle. The boy is just thriving under his care.'

Such a cheap shot. I typed back a reply.

Scarlett: 'Don't care. I'd be happier if he dropped dead.'

She had no idea how much I was enjoying the peace and quiet without his disgusting face around.

The "typing..." bubble appeared and disappeared for a long time. Finally, a message popped up.

Jessica: 'Oh, playing tough now, are we? I seem to remember someone crying and begging Blake to come home. When I have him completely wrapped around my finger, you'd better sign those divorce papers, okay?'

I couldn't be bothered to type. I just sent her the screenshot of the joint account again. It was a surefire way to shut her up.

Jessica was infuriated.

A short while later, she sent a photo of the property deed to her new downtown apartment.

I didn't respond.

A few days later, a picture of an oil painting I’d made for Blake—a scene of our proposal in Venice. It used to hang in our bedroom. Now, it was in her new home.

Finally, a new, exclusive-tier credit card.

Jessica: 'This card has a much higher limit than yours!'

Everything she sent was something Blake had posted about on his private social media, visible only to me.

If this were the old me, I would have been sobbing my heart out.

But that me was gone.

Scarlett: 'Thank you.'

Jessica was baffled.

Jessica: 'Are you crazy? What are you thanking me for?'

For hand-delivering a mountain of evidence, of course, I thought.

I was starting to enjoy this game.

Seeing my mounting stress, Julian asked if I needed a lawyer, mentioning he had a friend who was one of the best divorce attorneys in the city.

I thanked him, transferred the consultation fee, and gladly accepted the referral.

Then, with a mountain of evidence in hand, I filed a lawsuit against Jessica to reclaim the marital assets she’d received.