Of course, I couldn't accept the house. 

However, Shannon was firm about it. She said that without me, there would've been no investment, and the agency might have gone under.

I didn't understand what she was talking about.

She asked me if I remembered that 17 years ago, when I saved a middle-aged couple who had a heart attack during a tour I led, I had given them a very detailed travel guide.

Of course, I remembered that—that was the last time I worked.

I corrected Shannon, "I didn't save him. I only gave him some Heart Relief Pills."

Shannon didn't argue with me. She just told me that it was that couple who invested in the agency, which was why I deserved a share.

Frustrated, she threw the keys on the floor and stormed into the empty house.

Thus, I picked up the keys and went in.

When I walked in, I was briefly dazed. The decor of the house was exactly the same as when we rent

"Your mistress should be fine too. Nancy likes her, after all."

Caught off guard by my retort, Jack fumed, "What the fuck is wrong with you? Stop calling her a mistress! How could you be so vile?

"We're just colleagues. I've been busy entertaining clients, and as my secretary, it's only right for her to take care of me. What's the big deal?"

"You're absolutely right. From now on, she'll provide even better care for you."

I hung up on him with a sneer. He barely had any respect for me.

Lunch was already a disaster, and now dinner had Shannon fuming—she was so mad that she was practically breathing fire.

…

The next day, she rapped at my door so loudly that I almost forgot the Jermandan vocabulary I'd memorized. 

I opened the door. She was standing there, hands resting on her hips as she announced proudly, "Hurry up and make yourself presentable. You're coming to work with me now!



16 years ago, not long after I resigned from the travel agency, the agency received an investment of 200,000 dollars.

Although logically, the money had nothing to do with me, Shannon still counted my share.

I felt like crying again as I said, "I can't take this money."

"You can," Shannon responded firmly.

She said that if I hadn't insisted on marrying Jack back then, she would've given me the money then. However, she felt uneasy when she thought about him, so she invested all the money in the agency instead—all these years, she had been splitting the earnings equally with me.

She had been keeping my share for me, and after 16 years, it had grown into a significant sum.

Once again, I felt like I was dreaming.

"Alright. Let's move on to the next topic," Shannon commented with a dramatic wave of her hand. "Our company is expanding to include some new routes. You're flying to Jermand next Wednesday to talk about a partnership with the travel agency over there.

"I've worked so hard all these years, and finally, I can take a break."

She smiled proudly, and I did the same. After 16 years, I could finally see my future in sight again.

I sat in the passenger seat and tilted my head to look at Shannon. Streetlights passed one by one, and the light flickered in the car.

That was when I could see more clearly—Shannon's eyes shone with tears. I thought she was taking me to her place, but when the car stopped, I saw disco lights.

"A karaoke bar?" I asked, shocked.

I hadn't been to a place like this since I started dating Jack.

Shannon had a look of utter disdain. "Don't look so shocked. Did you really not know it's your birthday today?"

As I looked at her back, I felt like crying again. Still, I held the tears in.

However, a few minutes later, I ended up bursting into tears anyway. There was a big cake on the private room's table, with writing on the cake's surface—"18 years old, Version 18.0".

The room could've just been booked, but the cake clearly wasn't a last-minute thing.

Shannon didn't give me the chance to keep crying. She shoved the microphone right in front of my face and yelled, "Sing!"

16 years ago, I was quite popular in school because I sang well. I had also won countless singing competitions during my university days.

…

By the time we left the karaoke bar, it was already midnight.

I checked my phone and saw not a single message.

Upset, Shannon asked, "You're not thinking of going back to them, are you?"

I replied somewhat dazedly, "I haven't even taken my stuff out."

Shannon wanted to go back with me, but I wouldn't let her. She had always hated Jack and often told me he had ambiguous relationships with multiple women.

Back then, I thought she was exaggerating the stories because of her bias. Now, I really wanted to slap myself.

…

The apartment building was noisy when I arrived home.

Jack's singing echoed through the night, and he was bad enough to scare a few children into crying. He was tone deaf and hated singing, so it seemed he was in high spirits today.

As I stood at the door looking for my keys, the song—and the singer—changed. It was a woman's voice. 

I knew it was Jack's mistress.

I had yet to find my keys when my neighbor, Marie Hall, opened her door angrily, saying, "Don't stop me! I'm going to see what's going on at her place to—"

She abruptly paused the moment she saw me, and her tone softened a notch.

Since there were usually just my two elderly neighbors at home, I often helped them out, and we were on good terms.

"Natasha, did your relatives come over?" Marie asked.

I shook my head. "No, my husband's cheating on me."

At this point, I no longer cared about not causing Jack's family any embarrassment. Besides, I didn't want my kindness to the neighbors to become his family's excuse for acting without consequence.

Marie said nothing. She simply looked at me with pity and sighed.

I smiled at her. "Don't worry, Mrs. Watson. I'm preparing to get a divorce. I'm just back to pack my things."

My voice was calmer than it had ever been as I spoke. The moment I heard that woman singing, the last invisible thread binding me had snapped.

Just then, Marie's husband, Roy Watson, stepped out too. He told me to pack without worrying and that he and Marie would wait at the door.

He even asked whether I had somewhere to go and offered to get his son to help if I needed it.

I smiled and declined his offer. After all, there were some things I had to face myself.

When I entered the house, the apartment's surroundings seemed to have finally quietened down—even earlier, I had to shout when talking to the neighbors.

Everyone, except Nancy, looked nervous when they saw me. She clung sweetly to the mistress' arm and said, "Yvonne, I told you there's nothing to be nervous about.

"Look at Mom. She's fat, old, and most importantly, she won't do anything except get mad. Compared to her, you're like a fairy."

I could hardly believe these were the words spoken by my 16-year-old daughter.

Jack coughed twice before saying, "Don't get mad. Nancy's not wrong. Honestly, you should thank Yvonne. I'd have no one to bring if it weren't for her."

My steps faltered for a moment.

Petra chimed in from the side, "Exactly. You didn't take care of yourself, and now look, your bad genes have ruined my granddaughter. If not, that boy in her class—that Sam whatever—wouldn't have broken up with her."

Whatever little anger I had instantly disappeared when I heard that. Nancy would eventually pay the price. 

Back then, I insisted on not having a second child because I was afraid it would be a boy. The Bosemans' preference for sons was deeply ingrained in them, and I didn't realize it until I married into their family.

During my postpartum recovery, I overheard Jack whispering on the phone. That was when I found out he had an older sister.

I then heard she was a very capable graduate student. However, she was tricked into coming home and married off to a rich businessman in town, who was as old as her grandfather.

The three-million-dollar wedding gift all went to Petra, whereas his sister only received a cheap quilt from a department store for her wedding.

It seemed that Nancy's fate wouldn't be much better.

I said nothing and went straight to my room to pack my luggage.

…

I finished in just a few minutes. After all, my things only filled half of a 20-inch suitcase.

As I closed the door, I heard Nancy cheering with the microphone. "The crazy woman finally left! I can finally get a new mom!"

The neighbor's door was still open, and Marie was standing there panting with a broom in her hand. When she saw me, she suddenly became flustered.

Roy apologized, saying that the house was too crowded for Marie to come in and help me earlier.

I felt a sting in my nose. There were good people everywhere in this world, yet I had been struggling in a cesspit of scum for 16 years.

I told Roy and Marie not to get angry, for those people weren't worth it.

…

When I got downstairs, Shannon's car was already waiting at the gates. Her eyes widened when she saw my tiny luggage bag.

I smiled as I told her that having less stuff made it easier for me to leave.

Shannon echoed my sentiments and added that everything in that house was bad luck anyway.

I asked her if we were going back to her place now, but she told me there was still a surprise.

I felt a glimmer of anticipation rise in my heart. I had finally come to life again!

…

When we arrived at Shannon's house, she stopped me. She pointed at the house across the street and told me it was mine.

Years ago, she had used the dividends from the travel agency to buy it for me.

Of course, I couldn't accept the house. 

However, Shannon was firm about it. She said that without me, there would've been no investment, and the agency might have gone under.

I didn't understand what she was talking about.

She asked me if I remembered that 17 years ago, when I saved a middle-aged couple who had a heart attack during a tour I led, I had given them a very detailed travel guide.

Of course, I remembered that—that was the last time I worked.

I corrected Shannon, "I didn't save him. I only gave him some Heart Relief Pills."

Shannon didn't argue with me. She just told me that it was that couple who invested in the agency, which was why I deserved a share.

Frustrated, she threw the keys on the floor and stormed into the empty house.

Thus, I picked up the keys and went in.

When I walked in, I was briefly dazed. The decor of the house was exactly the same as when we rented an apartment to start our business 16 years ago.

Opposite the couch was a wall of books. There w

Chapter 3 A New Start