Contact All You Want

"Luke Carson, you've always performed well in our workshop, but we haven't made much of a profit this year. As an old-time employee of ours, I'm sure you can understand this decision, right?"

Hearing the familiar words, I could not help but feel dazed for a moment.

Just a second ago, I was lying alone on a hospital bed in pain, sorrowfully waiting for death. Now, I was transported back to more than 30 years ago.

Looking at the fake smile of the workshop manager, Eric Babel, in front of me, a pang of bitterness welled up in my heart. At the same time, a wave of ecstasy washed over me. I never expected to have a chance to start over.

A voluntary resignation agreement was put in front of me.

With just those few words, I would lose everything I had.

I stared at him expressionlessly. "My performance and year-end evaluations were all rated as excellent. You weren't the only one who decided I should be laid off, right?"

Rachel Jackson's face flashed across my mind. Although I knew the answer, I still could not hold back.

Mr. Babel looked embarrassed and sighed after a long pause. "Luke, this is your family's matter. I'm just following orders."

He did not explain explicitly, but I knew perfectly well it was Rachel's orders. She had always looked down on me, thinking I had a low level of education and had only gotten into the workshop because of my connections.

On the other hand, she was one of the few college graduates in town and was beautiful.

If it were not for the fact that my mother and her mother were childhood friends and had arranged our marriage when we were young, our lives would never have crossed paths.

She loved her childhood sweetheart, Logan Cole, the high-achieving student who had returned from studying at a prestigious university. There had never been a place for me in her heart.

With this in mind, I suddenly felt much more at ease.

Meeting Mr. Babel's slightly nervous gaze, I smiled slightly. "Okay, Mr. Babel. I'm willing to sign."

Mr. Babel was stunned, seemingly not expecting me to accept so readily.

After hesitating for a moment, he sighed. "Luke, why don't you have a good talk with your fiancee? After all, you're quite capable at work. It's a waste to lose your job like this."

I smiled and shook my head before looking out the window. "No need. The world's so big. I want to see it."

Mr. Babel's eyes were filled with more confusion as if he could not understand. "The workshops outside are nice, but ours isn't bad either. Things will get better."

My smile widened.

There was no point explaining it to him. His understanding was still confined to this small town. Little did he know that the current layoffs were just the tip of the iceberg compared to the national situation. Soon, this wave of layoffs would sweep the entire country. It would be too late to think about making a living by then.

I decisively grabbed my personal belongings and my layoff notice, leaving the dormitory. Before I left, I saw the layoff list posted on the bulletin board. My name was on it.

Why was Rachel so eager?

In my previous life, I begged many people and used many methods to stay in the workshop because I did not want to lose the job I depended on for a living. Even more so, I did not want to lose my status as a permanent employee, lest Rachel looked down on me even more.

This decent job was what allowed me to hold my head high in front of Logan.

Rachel was beautiful, had a great figure, came from a good family, and was a top student. You could say she was the dream girl of many men in town. That was why I had always been reluctant to give her up.

During the massive layoffs in my previous life, I managed to squeeze Logan out of the workshop thanks to my good conduct and hard work.

It was around that time that Rachel's attitude toward me became unusually cold. Even after we got married at her mother, Betty Cook's, urging, she never spent the night at home. She preferred to stay in the eight-person dormitory at the workshop rather than share a room with me.

Sadly, we were never intimate even after many years of marriage. We could only catch a glimpse of each other during meetings at the workshop.

Unexpectedly, things changed when she went on a two-year business trip and brought back a two-year-old boy, saying he was an adopted orphan.

Since we did not have children of our own, I did not resist the child much. I treated the boy like my own child, pouring all my heart and soul into him. I would grit my teeth and fulfill his every wish, but he never seemed willing to be close to me.

His favorite thing to do every day was to go see Rachel after school. I just thought it was normal for a child to prefer their mother.

I never imagined that I would only learn the truth in my later years.

For the past 30 years, my nominal wife had been raising another man's child. All those years, all her leaves and business trips were actually spent with Logan.

After Logan lost his job, he unexpectedly caught the wave of the policy.

As for me, to ensure Rachel's focus remained undivided, I became a responsible dad.

I never imagined she would entrust their child to me. While I toiled day and night caring for their child, they traveled across the country, leaving their footprints at almost every famous tourist spot.

My life revolved solely between the workshop and home. Even in Betty's later years, I was the one who cared for her.

The moment I learned the truth, I could not bear the blow and fell seriously ill.

At that moment, I finally understood that nothing was more painful than a broken heart.

I thought that even though Rachel's attitude toward me was cold, I was still her husband. Therefore, I was willing to take care of them. I believed she would eventually see how good I was as long as I was sincere enough.

Even though those around me pitied me, gossiped about me, and ridiculed me, I had no regrets.

Everyone said I did not live like a man. Some even used me as a negative example, saying that this was what happened to a useless man who could not control his wife.

I never took those words seriously. However, as I lay alone in my hospital bed in my last life, barely hanging on, I regretted it.

Rachel brought the child I had raised from infancy to the hospital. She was not here to visit me. It was just that as my wife, she had her obligations to bury me after I died.

The child immediately approached me, asking impatiently, "Dad, where did you put your bankbook?"

I suppressed my discomfort as I opened my eyes and forced out a hateful retort through gritted teeth, "Get lost! I'm not your dad!"