Chapter 1

The last thing I remembered was the taste of iron and the cold, unforgiving concrete against my cheek. My own blood pooled around me, a warm, sticky mess. Above the ringing in my ears, I could hear Olivia' s frantic screams, but they weren' t for me.

"Help him! Someone, get a doctor for Ethan! He' s bleeding!"

I had pushed her out of the way of the falling scaffolding, and a heavy steel pipe had crushed my legs and torso. I was dying. Ethan, her charming assistant, had a gash on his forehead from a piece of debris. A minor cut.

The paramedics rushed over, and Olivia directed them straight to Ethan. "He' s losing so much blood!" she cried, ignoring the fact that my entire life was draining out of me onto the dirty ground.

They put Ethan on a stretcher first. I watched, my vision blurring at the edges, as they tended to his superficial wound while I was left in the corner. It was then I understood. All my sacrifices, all the years I' d spent working my fingers to the bone to support her dreams, meant nothing. In the end, I was worth less than her lover' s minor injury. That was the moment my love for her finally died, just moments before I did.

Then, I blinked.

The sharp, sterile smell of the hospital was gone. Instead, I smelled the familiar, expensive perfume Olivia wore. I was standing in the living room of our ridiculously large, empty house. My body was whole, no pain, no blood.

Olivia stood before me, her arms crossed, her expression a mask of annoyance and impatience. It was the night of our biggest fight, a week before the accident. The same fight that had set the stage for the end.

"Liam, I' m tired of this," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "We both know this marriage is a sham. I told you that on our wedding night."

She pulled a black credit card from her purse and tossed it on the coffee table between us. It skittered across the glass surface.

"Here," she said. "This is for you. A million-dollar credit line. Go buy yourself a new car, new clothes, whatever you want. Just stop acting like a wounded puppy every time I spend time with Ethan. It' s pathetic."

In my past life, her words had felt like a physical blow. I had felt so insulted, so degraded. I had refused the card, telling her my love wasn' t for sale. I had tried to reason with her, to make her see the man she once loved. It was a mistake.

This time, I was reborn.

I looked at the card on the table, then back at her. A slow, cold calmness settled over me. I reached out and picked it up, feeling the cool, smooth plastic between my fingers.

I didn' t shout. I didn' t plead.

I just asked a simple question.

"So I can spend as much as I want?"

Olivia was taken aback. She clearly expected me to throw the card back in her face, to yell about dignity and love. My quiet acceptance threw her off balance.

She quickly recovered, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yes, Liam. Spend it all for all I care. Maybe if you' re busy shopping, you' ll have less time to be jealous and insecure."

Her words were meant to hurt, to put me in my place. Last time, they did. This time, they felt hollow, distant. The connection I once felt to her, that deep, painful love that had defined my entire life, was gone. It felt like something inside me had been severed cleanly, like a butcher' s knife through meat. There was no pain, just a sudden, peaceful emptiness.

"Alright," I said, tucking the card into the pocket of my worn-out jeans. My voice was even, devoid of the emotion she expected.

I looked her straight in the eye. "From now on, I won' t bother you anymore. I won' t ask where you' re going, who you' re with, or when you' re coming home."

I raised my hand, a gesture that felt strangely formal. "I swear, if I ever interfere in your life with Ethan again, I' ll be struck by lightning and die a horrible death."

Of course, I already had.