Chapter 2

"You’re back?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, my voice even trembling a little. I didn’t expect it—seeing him didn’t spark rage, resentment, or even the obsessive love I had in my past life. Instead, I just felt... released. And honestly, it had been forever since I last saw Ronald in person. He still looked just as sharp—tall, cool, and way too good-looking for his own good. Honestly, even a dead woman like me couldn’t deny his looks. But my heart? That thing was long over it. He gave me a once-over, then glanced at the bowl on the table, his eyes darkening with clear dissatisfaction. Then he suddenly started walking toward me, giving off that suffocating pressure he always had. My breath caught, and I instinctively stepped back a couple of paces, watching him warily. "What are you trying to do?" The truth is, at this point, we were only in our first year of marriage. He hadn’t fully fallen for his so-called true love yet, and I hadn’t even done anything wrong. Logically, he shouldn’t be too harsh on me. Still, just those two steps back made one thing very clear—I didn’t want to be near him anymore. Ever since I made up my mind to let everything go, not only did I stop craving his attention, I downright avoided it. He frowned a bit at that, like he didn’t get what I was doing, then curled his lips in a mocking smile. "Isabella, you pulled out all the stops to get me back, and now you’re acting like this? Who’s the performance for?" I blinked. "What are you even talking about?" Get him back? I would’ve been happier if he never came at all. His brows furrowed deeper. Suddenly, he reached out, gripping my chin tight. Those blue eyes of his held a dangerous glint. "Still pretending? Wasn’t it you who teamed up with your cousin to tell me you were dying, just to make me come back?" Pain shot through me like a bolt. His grip was crushing—I felt like my jaw might break. I tried to slap his hand away. "I didn’t! I had no idea she did that. It must’ve been her acting on her own." I used to love him so lowly—on my birthday, holidays, anniversaries, I never once pushed him to come home. Even now, after dying once, there’s no way I’d do that. He scoffed. "Your cousin sticks to you like glue and you didn’t know? Come on, Isabella. Quit the games before you push this too far." Looking at his cold, handsome face twisted in impatience, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly in my head—laugh at myself. In our last life, our marriage started off as two strangers under one roof. He flat-out ignored me. I tried everything to melt that frozen heart, but the more I tried, the more he pulled away. When I finally discovered just how deep his feelings ran for someone else, I lost it. Did all sorts of things just to keep him around, and in the end, he couldn’t stand me. I always blamed myself, told myself I wasn’t good enough. That’s why he didn’t love me. But now, in this life, I didn’t do a thing. I just came home with a stomachache and made myself a bowl of soup on our anniversary—and he still looked at me like I was a bug. Turns out, it was never about what I did. He just didn’t like me. Period. I shoved his hand off and stood up straighter, locking eyes with him. And then, for the first time, I said it. "Ronald, let’s get a divorce." His expression froze, clearly caught off guard. Then his face twisted into a sneer. "Do you even know what you’re saying?" Of course I did. If I had a choice, I’d rather have been reborn before marrying him. I glanced down at the calluses on my palm. For him, I gave up everything. From a successful, spoiled young woman to a full-time housewife who did nothing but cook and clean for him. I poured in everything. Gave up everything. And in the end, I was the only one moved by it.“We got married for family reasons, right? You never liked me anyway. So what’s the harm in cutting ties and letting each other go?” His expression turned ice-cold in an instant. He actually snapped, towering over me with that intimidating six-foot-two frame, the pressure almost suffocating. “You were the one begging to marry me. Teary-eyed in front of Grandpa, going on and on until I had no choice. And now you say you want a divorce? Just like that? What do you take me for?” He grabbed my chin roughly, his eyes like frozen steel. “Was I just some toy to you, huh?” Forced to meet his gaze, my heart thudded out of nowhere. Yeah, it was a political marriage, but let’s face it—my family was way below his. If it weren’t for the bond between our grandfathers and that childhood engagement, I wouldn’t have stood a chance with him. Ronald was always dead set against arranged marriages. If his grandfather hadn’t been sick and forced his hand, I never would’ve become his wife. So me asking for a divorce now? Yeah, I see how he might be pissed. “I’m not playing you, I’m serious. I saw that doctor you like. She’s beautiful, sweet. You two make a good match. If we split, doesn’t that clear your way to be with her?” I said it on purpose. I wanted to push him a little. His precious dream girl was leaving the country soon. Once she’s gone, he’ll realize just how hard he’s fallen. He’ll go all in—chasing her, fighting for her, not letting go. And I? I’m the cliché toxic wife from some melodramatic soap opera. I can’t repeat my past life mistakes by clinging to someone who doesn’t want me. This time, I check out first, before love screws me over again. Ronald’s expression darkened in a flash. His eyes narrowed in on me. “You saw her? So that’s why you’re acting so different. What, you trying to blackmail me or something?” He kept closing in. I backed off fast, heart pounding, ‘til I hit the wall with nowhere left to go. He thought I was using his soft spot against him? That mentioning her was a threat? I stiffened, quickly shook my head. “Have I ever blackmailed you? In a whole year of marriage? I just want out.” “You’re never around, always working late. I’ve basically been living like a widow. Sure, I liked you—hell, maybe I still do—but I can’t be stuck in a marriage like this forever. I don’t want to turn eighty and still be a virgin. You ignore the one you’ve got and won’t even go after the one you want. Aren’t you tired of living like this? ‘Cause watching you, I am.” He braced one arm on the wall beside me, leaning down close. He’s got that annoying height—just a tiny tilt of my head and our lips would touch. Before, I’d probably be ready to faint from excitement. Now? All I feel is dread crowding in. He clenched his jaw ever so slightly, like he was biting back a snide comment. “So… a lonely widow, huh? Guess you’re awfully desperate since I don’t touch you.” His words slapped the color right into my face. I blushed hard and hissed, “That’s not what I meant!” In our last life, he couldn’t divorce me fast enough. Even when I called him while dying, he ignored me. So this time, I’m telling him I want the divorce—and he’s pissed? Thinking up all sorts of crap and dragging it out? Ronald flicked my chin with long fingers, his gaze flicking across my face before closing the distance. I went rigid without thinking. He smirked. That cool, mocking curve of his lips. “I don’t care what you really think. You don’t get to just start and stop this marriage like flipping a switch.” “If you're really that lonely, go flirt with someone or get a damn toy and sort yourself out. Just don’t make a mess that stains my name, and I don’t care what you do.”