Chapter 3

His inappropriately tender gestures caused me, even though we had agreed before the arranged marriage to not interfere in each other's private lives, to repeatedly act like Mrs. Dyke and make trouble for Claire, finally managing to ruin myself.

The moment I remembered how it all ended–my family ruined, everyone dead–a heavy feeling settled in my chest. Even my expression toward John turned cold.

After he finished making the hangover soup and brought it to me, I drank it silently without even saying thank you, then headed upstairs to sleep.

John followed behind me.

Just before I closed the bedroom door, I noticed him stop right outside, looking almost as if he intended to sleep in the same room.

I let out a self-mocking laugh.

As if that were possible.

John was absurdly disciplined when it came to relationships. Other than Claire, there had never been another woman by his side. There was no way he would want to share a room with me.

At most, he was only escorting his drunk wife back to her room out of basic courtesy and good upbringing.

I did not want to misunderstand things again, so I said flatly, "You can stop here."

Then I shut the door directly in his face.

Before the door closed, I caught the look of surprise in his eyes.

But I was too tired to think about why he looked surprised. I climbed into bed and immediately fell asleep.

By the time I woke up again, the sun was already high in the sky.

My phone was flooded with messages from Vivian, and only then did I suddenly remember.

I had arranged to meet her at the club yesterday, but before she even arrived, John had already dragged me away.

I quickly apologized to her and explained what had happened.

Vivian replied almost instantly:

[So John dragged you away? Don't tell me he got jealous seeing you surrounded by other men?]

I stared at the message speechlessly.

Seriously. Broad daylight, and she was already dreaming.

After chatting with Vivian for a bit, I headed downstairs for breakfast.

To my surprise, John was still home, dressed in casual loungewear and sitting on the sofa reading financial reports.

I froze for a second.

This had never happened before.

John was a complete workaholic. Back then, he had even interrupted our wedding vows just to answer a business call.

Seeing him not go to work was practically unheard of.

A little worried, I asked, "John… the Dyke Group hasn't gone bankrupt, has it?"

Forgive me for immediately thinking of bankruptcy. The collapse of the West family in my previous life had left too deep a scar.

John lowered the documents and looked up at me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

"No. I just wanted to give myself a day off."

"Oh."

I let out a relieved breath. "That's good then. If there's anything you want to eat today, just tell Mrs. Morgan to make it."

After saying that, I hurriedly finished my milk and prepared to leave.

John visibly paused.

"You… you're not staying home today?"

I was busy changing my shoes and did not even look up at him.

"Yeah, I've got something to do."

Then I walked straight out the door, completely missing the strange look on his face behind me.

I drove all the way to my parents' villa.

The moment I entered, I saw my mother watering flowers in the garden while my father sat nearby in the pavilion, leisurely drinking tea.

Looking at them beneath the warm sunlight, my nose suddenly stung.

In my previous life, when the car accident happened, my parents had ignored their own injuries and thrown themselves over me, trying to shield me with their bodies, desperately hoping to give me even the slightest chance to survive.

But in the end, I failed them.

Not long after watching them die right in front of me, I followed them into death myself.

"Naomi, why are you crying?"

My mother noticed me standing there and quickly put down the watering can before walking over to wipe my tears away.

I shook my head and hugged her tightly.

"Mom, I'm fine. I just missed you guys."