Divorced, Broke, and Back as His Perfect Wife

Yale Gibson carried a familiar scent of perfume on him as he spoke. It was sickly sweet with a subtle, icy undertone—the exact scent Willow Leeds always wore.

Yale's expression darkened with displeasure.

Seeing his reaction, I immediately scrambled to my feet and looked at him nervously. "What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

Before the divorce, I had faced the exact same situation. Back then, I was completely lost. When reporters claimed Yale and Willow had spent the night together, my eyes welled with tears on the spot.

When I went to Yale afterward to demand the truth, he scolded me for embarrassing him in front of the media.

I stormed into his company to pick a fight, only to catch Willow sitting intimately on his lap. He shielded her behind his back and looked at me coldly, then called me unreasonable and accused me of ruining his plans.

I refused to back down and demanded a divorce. Little did I know that I would spend the next five years paying a brutal price.

I walked away from the divorce with nothing. Without the glittering status of Mrs. Gibson, I ran into rejections everywhere I looked for work. I could barely afford my rent, and whenever I fell sick, I couldn't even scrape together enough money for medicine.

Looking back, life by Yale's side had been the best after all. I didn't have to worry about making ends meet, and I didn't have to bow to anyone else's whims.

So, when Yale asked me to remarry him, I agreed without a second thought.

He froze for a moment, as if he, too, were remembering what happened back then. But he said nothing. He simply pulled a diamond necklace from his pocket and offered it to me.

"For you."

I glanced at it. It looked vaguely familiar.

Two months ago, Yale had his assistant, Jamie Smith, deliver a gift to me on my birthday. It was this exact necklace.

Jamie had said back then, "Mr. Gibson has been extremely busy lately, but he still picked out this gift especially for you."

And yet, two months later, here he was, giving me another identical necklace.

The old me would have confronted Yale with the necklace in hand. I would have cried, demanded an explanation, and agonized over whether he even cared about me at all.

Luckily, all I cared about now was his money and the practical perks this marriage could bring me.

So, putting on an expression of utter delight, I took the necklace from Yale and held it up to admire it from every angle.

"It's gorgeous!" I gushed, looking at him with a grateful smile. "I love it so much. Thank you!"

Yale looked surprised. Perhaps he hadn't expected such a response from me. He probably thought I'd act like I used to—either calling him out for being lazy or throwing a fit until he offered an explanation.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, a ringtone abruptly cut him off.

It was a familiar sound—a gentle piano melody that he had set as a custom ringtone specifically for Willow.