Chapter 4

The air suddenly turned eerily silent, then came a cold sneer. Ronald’s voice was low and tight, like he was forcing the words through clenched teeth. "Isabella, don't come crying later." I stayed calm. From the moment the idea formed in my head, I’d pictured this scene over and over. Whatever he said, I was ready. "Relax. I don’t go back on decisions. Just sign the divorce papers, and let’s pick a date. Today’s Thursday..." Before I could finish, the man just hung up. "...Seriously?" Unbelievable. That guy hangs up like it's his hobby. I glanced at the time. Not like I had time to deal with divorce today anyway—had something way more important to do. Divorce could totally wait till tomorrow. I got up, freshened up quickly, grabbed my keys, and sped off. Eventually, I parked by the roadside, watching rows of stores lined up closely. My heart was pounding hard. It was blazing hot, typical of midsummer. Even with the AC running, the air felt suffocating inside the car. After three whole hours, a guy and a girl finally showed up down the street, and my eyes lit up instantly. They were here. I waited until they entered a nearby café before getting out and following them in. They sat across from each other, and I picked a not-so-obvious corner, quietly watching. The girl wore a pink dress, her eyes shiny and full of life as she chatted animatedly. The guy? Mr. Perfect on the surface—well-mannered, polite, every move seemed just right. If I hadn’t lived through all this once already, I’d never guess what he was about to do. The girl got up and headed to the bathroom. Pretty soon after she left, Mr. Polite’s smile dropped. He kept glancing toward the bathroom while pulling out a tiny bottle from his pocket. I clenched my fist, quickly took out my phone, aimed the camera at him. He twisted the cap open, poured the clear liquid into the coffee with practiced ease, and even stirred it a bit. Like it was just sugar or something. Then he shoved the bottle away like nothing happened and calmly waited. She came back. He stood up to greet her all enthusiastically, even pushed her coffee gently towards her. She smiled and nodded, just about to take a sip— “Didn’t you tell me never to drink something that’s been left alone? Forgot already?” I walked over with my phone in hand, voice casual and unhurried. Both of them looked over. The moment our eyes met, the girl froze, biting her lip. "Isabella? What the heck are you doing here?" I looked at her beautiful face, and it just hurt. "Been a while, huh, Emma?" Emma's tone had a bite to it. "Where’s your Mr. Wright? Weren’t you glued to him 24/7? What, finally bored enough to go out and play?" I didn’t snap back. Not even a little. Emma’s been my best friend since forever—honest, kind, and full of life. Last year, we fell out badly. I was marrying Ronald, and she thought I was blinded by love. Said it’d be a mistake, that I’d just end up a pathetic pushover. Looking back… she wasn’t wrong. I even went pro at it—top-tier simping. In my past life, I was too stubborn to listen. For some clueless guy, I threw away the best friend I had. She passed away before we ever made up.The guy who ruined her life? That’s him—sitting right across from her. Harry Johnson. Her coworker. In the last life, he drugged and assaulted her, then used nude photos and videos to blackmail her into staying with him. Over time, the pressure drove Emma Lewis to the edge. She developed severe depression and finally took her own life by jumping off a building. I still remember how messed up I was at her funeral—regret and guilt eating me alive. Not this time. I’m not letting it happen. I didn’t hesitate to plop down beside Emma and wrapped an arm around her shoulder like I owned the place. "Who does he think he is? I want to come out and chill—what’s wrong with that?" "But you, dude," I said, giving Harry a hard stare, "you’re not even worth being called a person." Harry’s expression darkened instantly. "Excuse me, miss? Who even are you? And what gives you the right to come up here insulting people?" I didn’t bother playing nice. I let out a cold laugh. "You really don’t know? After what you just did? Come on, you think no one sees through your little act?" A flash of panic crossed his face, but he still tried to act cool. "Emma, do you know her? Her mouth’s out of control. If she doesn’t start showing some respect, I’m seriously gonna get mad." Emma’s face changed. She looked at Harry, then back at me. Even after all this time, the trust between us hadn’t gone away. "Isabella, what happened just now?" Silently, I pulled up the video on my phone and handed it over. As Emma watched, her brows furrowed tighter and tighter, her face grim. Harry noticed what I was doing and seemed to realize he was screwed. He shot up from his seat, trying to bolt. But before he could even get up all the way, Emma slapped him. Hard. "You absolute scum! You tried to drug me?!" Harry stood there dazed, then his face twisted in fury. He raised a hand to strike back—but before he could even get close, I whipped out some pepper spray and blasted him straight in the eyes. "Touch Emma and you’re done for!" We caused enough commotion that the cafe staff and bystanders jumped in right away. They helped us pin Harry down and called the cops. Even though the police showed up really fast, by the time they arrived, Harry looked like he’d been hit by a truck—bloody nose, busted lip, the whole deal. After we finished giving statements, Emma and I went straight home. As soon as we walked through the door, Emma wrapped me in a tight hug and started crying. "I still can’t believe it, Isabella. He looked so normal, but he was a monster. Thank god you showed up. If you hadn’t... I don’t even wanna think about it." "It’s over now," I said, gently rubbing her back. My own eyes brimmed with tears. Today, we rewrote her fate. She wasn’t going to be another tragedy—not anymore. Relief swept through me. I’d lost her once, but not again. And if I could save Emma’s future... maybe I could save my own too. Emma pulled back, our eyes meeting. We both seemed to remember that heated argument years ago—both red-faced and stubborn. We burst out laughing. She tugged me toward the couch, wiped away one of my tears. "So tell me, how have you been this past year?" I shook my head honestly. She looked instantly pissed. "Wait—what happened? Is Ronald being a jerk again?" Before I could answer, she narrowed her eyes. "If you’re just here after some couple’s fight, don’t even think about crashing with me. I’m not wasting my breath just for you to go running back again. I’m officially anti-simp from now on, got it?" I chuckled despite myself. That’s Emma—same in this life and the last. She can’t stand anyone being a slave to love. "My simp phase is over, I swear. In fact, Ronald and I are divorcing. Paperwork’s already in the works." Emma’s jaw almost hit the floor. "Wait, seriously? You're actually walking away from Ronald? But you always said you’d be obsessed with him forever just based on how good-looking he is!"