A Thousand Rebirths: I Await My Husband's Death

I tapped "accept" on the digital invitation for Fashion Week, the corners of my lips raising slightly. "If you want to go, you may do so."

Gary Clark looked at me in surprise, clearly not expecting my calmness.

I switched off my phone and met his stunned gaze. "Didn't you always tell me to be more understanding of Lucy? That she's just a young lady, and life isn't easy for her? Well, I'm being understanding now. Is that still not good enough for you?"

He frowned and rubbed his temples. "Do you have to be so sarcastic? How many times do I have to say this? There's nothing between me and Lucy. I only look after her like a younger sister. You're the one with a twisted mind, so you twist everything you see."

A twisted mind? If I hadn't opened his computer during the 999th cycle in a desperate attempt to save him, I might have still believed his words.

We had been married for ten years, and our intimacy had long turned into routine. Even when I reached out to him, he often brushed me off with the excuse of being too tired from work.

Yet on that computer, his photo albums were filled with pictures of him and Lucy Wagner in every kind of pose imaginable.

I once thought he had been tricked by Lucy, and I did everything in my power to pull him back. What I never realized was that the one being fooled all along was me.

I had poured my heart into him, given nearly a thousand lives to save him, and in the end, I was nothing but a joke.

With no words left to say, I turned away, leaving him fuming. This time, I would live for myself.

I bought everything I needed for Pereem, along with a plane ticket that would leave in a week. However, when I returned home, I was surprised to see Gary still there.

In past cycles, I had tried to win him over with our tenth anniversary, even going as far as to kneel and beg him to stay. However, he never budged. He always left for Lucy.

Fate had its own tricks. The moment I decided not to beg anymore, he stayed behind. I was confused, but I didn't dwell on it. I was leaving soon, and what he did had nothing to do with me anymore.

Dropping my bags, I walked into my dressing room. Ever since I was little, I loved styling dolls, and I became a fashion designer later on. This time, I had been personally invited by a friend, a creative director, to Pereem.

The clothes hanging in that room were the pride of my career and the highlight of the upcoming show. However, when I opened the closet, it was empty.

My eyes widened in disbelief.

"Oh, that," Gary said casually. "Lucy said she has a banquet tonight, so I gave her your designs to wear."

I trembled with rage. "Gary, who gave you the right to touch my work without asking? Do you even realize how important those pieces are to me?"

Startled by my reaction, he snapped back, yelling, "They're just clothes! You can always buy more. Why are you getting so worked up?"

Hearing him dismiss my designs as nothing more than "just clothes", my anger slowly dissolved into something heavier, akin to a dull, sinking sorrow.