Chapter 1

The wind in Floren, Novara, was as gentle as ever, but I was no longer the same woman who could be fooled by gentleness.

In my past life, I married Ethan Larsen, the head of the Larsen Family, a mafia clan. Everyone said he was the most devoted man in all of Novara, and I believed it without question.

Throughout our 60-year marriage, he never once lost his temper with me. He showered me with tenderness and spoiled me so much that all the women in the city envied me.

I thought that was love until I died on a dark street corner in Floren. That was when I finally realized he had deceived me all my life, using the gentlest means possible.

I was never the one he loved.

When I opened my eyes again, sunlight streamed through the blinds onto a familiar desk. The air was choked with chalk… and I saw the application form I had signed.

"Elara?"

I jerked my head up and saw—that face! It belonged to George Moore, my mentor from 60 years ago.

The way he looked at me was just as it had been back then: gentle, yet reluctant to let go.

"Are you really giving up on your chance to study at Greenvale University? You've spent so many years to reach this point," George said, "I know you're getting married to the head of the Larsen family, but… marriage can wait. Opportunities like this won't come around again."

I stared at him in shock as tears instantly blurred my vision; I had been reborn, and I had gone back to the year when fate had taken a turn.

In my past life, I had passed up on the acceptance letter to study abroad for Ethan. I gave up on my dreams, my medical career, and my entire life.

I once thought staying by his side was happiness. But that happiness was nothing more than a cage disguised as tenderness.

Choking back sobs, I said in a trembling voice, "I'm not giving up on it, Mr. Moore… I want to go to Verenza."

George was stunned, then broke into a relieved smile. "Really? That's wonderful news! Now this is the Elara I know!"

He excitedly flipped through the documents for a while before suddenly pausing. He hesitated as he asked, "But what about Ethan? He has never let you leave his side at all before."

My fingers trembled, but the corners of my lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. "I'll manage it."

Since his heart already belonged to someone else, this time, I would give them my blessings. There was no need to claim that forged marriage certificate anymore.

George looked at me, tears glinting in his eyes. "You've finally made a choice for yourself."

I nodded and signed the form. At that moment, I could almost hear the cogs of fate crack ever so slightly.

By the time I left the college, the sun was high. The wind in Floren brushed along the tree-lined path, carrying a faint scent of orange blossoms.

In the distance, I saw Ethan. He still carried himself the same way, calm yet captivating. Leaning lazily against the tree with his suit jacket casually draped over his arm, his blue eyes gleamed like the deep, dangerous sea.

This was the man I had loved for 60 years. But in this moment, I finally saw it clearly—the way those eyes had never reflected me.

At the end of the path, Serena Gray was walking toward us. She was my junior—sweet and radiant, like the early summer sunlight.

When Ethan saw her, he straightened slightly, tugged at his cuff, and brushed the stray hair away from his forehead.

My heart twisted painfully in that instant.

In my past life, I had missed countless little moments like this.

It wasn't just a casual gesture—it was the instinct of a stirred heart.

"Thank you for your sponsorship, Mr. Larsen. I can only continue my studies thanks to you." Serena spoke timidly. "May I invite you to the most expensive restaurant in Floren for a meal?"

Her eyes shone with admiration and longing.

Ethan was silent for a few seconds before replying in a calm, controlled voice. "I'm sorry, but I have to accompany my fiancée to her wedding dress fitting."

Serena's expression faltered slightly, and I saw his fist clench, the emotions he could no longer contain. So that was what happened.

It was no wonder he had seemed distracted the entire time at the wedding dress fitting in my past life.

Halfway through, he had excused himself, saying he needed to 'take a call' and was gone for fifty minutes.

Back then, I thought he was busy with work. But now I know—he had gone to meet her in those fifty minutes.

The wind swept through the trees, stirring the fallen leaves and carrying away the last remnants of my attachment.

This time, I wouldn't stay anymore.