After Divorcing My Ex-Husband, I became His Boss

Hannah’s POV:

They thought I couldn’t hear them. They thought a vegetative patient was just a body; silent, clueless, powerless.

But I heard and felt everything.

A nurse whispered beside my bed. “Her husband’s been here everyday. Poor guy, he just left a few moment ago.”

“He cried so hard when he signed the DNR form… I almost cried too.”

Poor?

Can’t blame the nurse for falling for Hayes' perfect act— I used to believe it too. Until I caught him cheating. Until that “accident” that landed me here. Until he forged my signature and asked the doctors to pull the plug.

People like Hayes cry over you, not because he loves you but because your death makes his life easier.

The doctor actually hesitated. Said I was showing signs of response. Sighs I might wake up.

But Hayes just said. “Don’t give me false hope.” And just like that— I was sentenced.

I wanted to scream, to fight back— Don’t listen to him! I don’t want to die! But I couldn’t even twitch my finger. I could only lie there, feeling that bastard press a fake kiss on my forehead…then couldn’t wait to hand me over to death.

Death came not swift, but slow and cold, as if savoring my last flickers of pain.

This is how my life ends; as a betrayed wife, full of regret and loathing.

If only I had just a little more time left. If only I didn’t let love blind me.

HONK! HONK!!!

The loud horning of a car suddenly cut through the silent darkness. A strong pounding hit my head like I was slammed against a hard surface, and reflexively I put my hand over my head in an attempt to soothe the headache.

Wait… I can move my body now?

Shocked, I opened my eyes and noticed I was no longer surrounded by darkness. Instead I was inside a car.

Where am I?

On closer look, I realized this wasn’t just any car; the purple Barney plush toy hanging on the rearview mirror, the slight scratch mark on the steering wheel, and the familiar lavender scent—this was my car.

“H-how…is this possible?” I stuttered in disbelief.

This car was damaged three years ago after the car crash I—

VROOOOOOOOOM!! BANG!!!

A car rammed into mine with brutal force, causing me to sway and hit my head on the side of my car window.

“Ouch,” I winced in pain, feeling my head go light. But before I could recover, the same car slammed into mine again.

BANGGG!!!

This time I shielded my head with my hand before I could hit the car window. It was now obvious this wasn’t a mistake; whoever was in the other car was purposely slamming into my car.

It was then it dawned on me how eerily similar this whole thing was compared to the car crash from three years ago. Back then, I had been coming back from work when a black Maserati pushed me into oncoming traffic, and I had crashed into a delivery truck. I got multiple fractures as a result and couldn’t move on my own for weeks.

Not this time.

From the corner of my eyes, I could see the black Maserati, drawing closer to strike another hit. I quickly scanned the area and saw I was on a T-junction just like that day. A smart plan popped up in my head.

I started my engine, but instead of moving away, I stayed still like a lion targeting a deer, patiently waiting for the car to fall into my plans.

Immediately the car got just a few inches close to slamming into me again; I sharply reversed my car, causing the Maserati to miss me and move in front of me.

“Right where I want you,” a small smile crept up my face.

I tightened my seatbelt and stepped on the accelerator. My car sped up, and I bashed into the black Maserati, pushing it out of my way into a corner.

I heaved out a heavy sigh.

I still couldn’t believe that any of this was possible. I mean, how was it possible that one minute I was dying on a hospital bed and the very next I was back in a car, reliving an event from three years ago?

“This must be a dream.” I mumbled, shaking my head to try and wake myself up.

Still, a part of me wanted to confirm if I was just seeing things or if this was actually real. If this was anything like what happened three years ago, then the person in the Maserati should be my husband’s sister, Lenora.

The same one who I caught him cheating on me with on our matrimonial bed. The same one who pushed me down the stairs and made me go into a coma. The same one who stole everything that rightfully belongs to me.

I took out the dashcam from the rearview mirror and came down from the car. Curiously, I took purposeful steps towards the bashed Maserati to get a look at who was inside. Through the broken mirror at the passenger seat, I could see a woman lying unconscious.

Her bleached blonde hair with dark roots at the edge, her round face, and wide lips that resembled Hayes—I could recognize that face anywhere. It was indeed Lenora.

I was bemused. Lenora had stopped dyeing her hair blonde three years ago and started dying it brown just like mine out of jealousy.

This was just impossible. The only thing that hasn’t happened yet was the delivery truck hitting—

Before I could even complete my sentence, the loud blaring of a truck cut through my confused thoughts. I turned around to see the same delivery truck from three years ago swerving uncontrollably through the open road.

My head instantly began to pound again, this time twice as hard, and I fell to the ground screaming in pain. The truck sped right by me and barreled through both my SUV and the Maserati with Lenora in it.

I tried to move, but my sight began to blur, and my body grew weak from the agonizing pain. Passersby gathered around, and someone shouted, “Call the ambulance.”

As I looked on, only one thought bugged my mind. How is it possible that I was reborn three years back in the past?

“You’ll be okay. Let me help you to the ambulance and take you to the hospital.” I heard one of the paramedics say through the ambulance siren in the background.

I was given first-aid in the ambulance, and by the time we arrived at the hospital the banging in my head had subsided.

Lenora was taken to the inner ward and I sat in the waiting room, awaiting the doctor to do a mandatory checkup before I left. I saw the doctor walk out of the inner ward and as I stood to approach him, someone abruptly brushed past me.

“How is Lenora?” Hayes' panicked voice belted out to the doctor.

“She’s out of danger now; she just needs some rest.” The doctor replied. “Your wife was also in the accident. She’s sitting over there.”

Hayes turned his neck aggressively, and his infuriated eyes stared back at me. “Why do you look perfectly fine? Weren’t you also in the accident?”

I scoffed. The audacity of this man to look me in the face and detest my survival over his sister’s was disgusting. For the longest time, I always thought Hayes was just protective over his sister, but the signs were always there to see. The signs of their sick, twisted love.

“Actually it’s good you're here.” He strolled over to me, and I watched him blankly. “You will donate blood for Lenora so she gets a quick recovery. You owe her that.”

I owe her that? The same person who intentionally tried to smash into my car?

Three years ago, I had willingly given my blood to Lenora even though I was the victim with multiple fractures. She had claimed she had chest pain and she was weak, so Hayes asked me to donate blood for her.

“That won’t be necessary. Lenora isn’t in any critical condition, and even if she was, we have her blood type in stock.” The doctor said.

Hayes waved his hand dismissively. “This way is faster and Hannah’s okay with it right, Hannah? It’s for your family.”

All this while I’ve been wondering why I was brought back to relieve my past. Was it the universe's way of taunting me with the start of the biggest mistake I made in my life—marrying Hayes.

My hands balled into a fist at my sides and my jaw clenched with full determination. I didn’t care if this was real or the universe taunting me, as long as I was here now, with the knowledge of everything I know. The knowledge of how this man betrayed me and how his sister used me. I would make a different choice.

I looked straight at Hayes, my eyes unflinching. “No. I’m not donating my blood to Lenora.”

Hayes' mouth fell wide open in surprise; I had never ever refused whatever he asked of me. No, scratch that; the old me never could, but that woman was dead now.

“Doctor, can I leave?” I faced the doctor, and he gave me a slight nod of approval and immediately I walked out on Liam and flagged down a cab.

I left the hospital and came straight home. The first thing I did was save the dashcam footage from my car into a secure drive and began packing all my clothes in a box.

I couldn’t bear the thought of staying one more day in this house. With these vultures waiting to feast on my flesh.

My phone buzzed with a message. ‘Happy 22nd birthday. I sent you something. Love Josh’. Josh was my closest friend from college.

But I’m 25, not 22. Oh Right, I almost forgot. I’m 3 years back in the past.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hayes' voice bellowed from behind me. He had followed me all the way from the hospital.

I didn’t respond to him; I just kept on pulling my clothes from the wardrobe and stuffing them into the box.

“Hannah, stop this drama and just apologize to Lenora.” He demanded, throwing the whole blame onto me like usual.

Had I really been so foolish? To think Hayes ever loved me.

“I didn’t know you were this cruel. You tried to crash into Lenora, and now you even ordered a cake to celebrate her accident? I’d make sure you’re legally responsible for everything.” He swore.

Cake? That must be what Josh said he sent me.

SPLATTTT!

I turned to see the red velvet-colored cake smeared on the floor; it looked just as shattered as my heart and as irredeemable as the trust I’ve lost.

He doesn’t even remember today is my birthday and yet he has the mind to destroy the one thing I got from a friend!

Seeing what Liam did ignited a fire within me.

I grabbed my box and shoved past him with defiance.

“You dare not walk away from me,” Hayes threatened from behind me, his loud shout bringing me to a halt.

This man still thinks he is speaking to the old Hannah.

I laughed. Then slowly, like a Greek warrior standing before inferior soldiers, I faced him. My eyes, scorching red.

“Dear husband,” I said, ignoring his former statement like I didn’t hear it. “I want a divorce.”