Chapter 2: Yvette is Home
“Why are you here?” I asked. For some reason, I didn’t feel the overwhelming hatred or resentment I’d expected seeing her standing there. I also didn’t feel the obsessive love I once had for her. Instead, all I felt was power.
It had been a long time since I had seen the real Yvette. She looked exactly as I remembered: radiant and youthful. She could have stood next to the most famous actresses and still outshone them effortlessly. It wasn’t surprising that she had captivated me and driven me mad with longing. Even after dying once, I couldn’t deny that I still appreciated her beauty. But my heart no longer ached, not even a little.
Yvette’s gaze swept over me, then shifted to the empty dishes on the table. A flicker of displeasure flashed in her bright eyes before she strode toward me, her steps carrying an air of suffocating authority.
My chest tightened, and I instinctively took a few steps backward. I was taller than her, even with her heels on. Even so, it felt like I was the one looking up at her.
“What are you doing?” she asked. I knew it was only my first year of manhood, and Yvette hadn’t yet realized how deeply she loved Handall. I hadn’t done anything wrong, so she wouldn’t go out of her way to make things hard for me. But as I retreated, I realized that I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to keep my distance from her. After deciding to let her go, I no longer craved her attention; in fact, I found myself resisting it.
Yvette’s perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed for a moment, confusion flashing in her eyes. Then, just as quickly, her lips curved into a mocking smile. “Owen, you went through all this trouble to trick me into coming back, and now you’re acting like this? Who are you trying to fool?”
I was confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Tricked me? I’m the one who wished she would stay away forever.”
My answer made her frown deepen, and she reached up to grab the collar of my shirt. Her stunning eyes turned cold, and her breath brushed against my face as she spat, “Don’t play dumb. Didn’t you plan this with your cousin? He told me you were at death’s door and forced me to come back to see you.”
A suffocating feeling washed over me, and pain shot through my neck as I instinctively shoved her away. “I didn’t plan anything with him! I had no idea about any of this. He must have acted on his own.”
In my past life, I loved Yvette so pathetically. Birthdays, holidays, anniversaries—I never once demanded she come home and celebrate any of these days with me. And after dying once, I definitely wasn’t going to start now.
Yvette sneezed. “You and your cousin are practically joined at the hip. Are you seriously going to claim you didn’t know what he was up to?”
As I looked at her annoyed expression and the impatient glint in her eyes, I couldn’t help the bitter, mocking smile that spread across my lips. It wasn’t aimed at her but at myself.
In my past life, our relationship had started off polite and distant. She ignored me, using cold indifference as her weapon of choice. And I bent over backward trying to thaw her frozen heart. When I finally found out she loved someone else, I resorted to every desperate trick I could think of to keep her. The more I tried, the more she loathed and despised me. I used to convince myself that it was my fault, that I did something to make her dislike me. But I hadn’t done anything in this life. All I did was come home on our anniversary with a stomach ache and have a bowl of chicken soup. Yet, she still looked at me with contempt and disdain.
It was clear now that she didn’t hate me because of anything I did. She simply hated me because she couldn’t stand me.
I straightened up and looked down slightly to meet her gaze. Then, I said, “Yvette, let’s get a divorce.”
Yvette considered my words. She looked genuinely caught off guard for a moment before a decisive smirk crept across her refined face. “Do you really mean that right now?”
Of course I did. If I had a choice, I would have preferred to be reborn before we got married. I glanced down at the calluses on my palms. Because I loved her, I willingly gave up the future of inheriting my family’s business. I became a househusband and revolved my entire life around her. After all the self-sacrifice, it turned out that I was the only one who had feelings in this relationship.
This was a multitude of experiences. I know you don’t like this, so why don’t we set each other free? Isn’t that better for both of us?
Her expression darkened, and a stark look of fury cut through her usual icy demeanor. “You’re unbelievable! You were the one who groveled in front of Grandpa and begged for this marriage. You said all sorts of nonsense until he had no choice but to marry you, and now you’re asking for a divorce just because you want to?”
“What do you take me for! Do you think I’m some kind of toy you can toss aside whenever you’re done with me?” She took a step forward, towering over me.
My heart skipped a beat. Even though our marriage was arranged, my family was far beneath hers in terms of wealth and status. If it hadn’t been for our grandfathers arranging a childhood engagement between us, I wouldn’t have even had the right to ask for her hand. Yvette had hated the arranged marriage from the very start. If her grandfather, Alex Fleming, hadn’t been seriously ill and forced her to marry me, she never would have agreed to be my wife.