Chapter 2

Every time her husband went on a business trip, the original Gwyneth would drop Dylan off at her parents’ house the very next day, leaving them to care for him. This arrangement gave her the freedom to do as she pleased. 

When Ajax's return was imminent, she'd simply go pick him up. The relationship between the original Gwyneth, her husband, and their son was strained, but she couldn't have cared less. To her, her own desires were the priority, and the opinions of others were irrelevant. Despite her parents’ countless attempts to encourage her to mend fences with her husband, she remained resolute in her indifference.

If I were to be brutally honest, disregarding what would eventually happen to the original Gwyneth, her life seemed rather... fabulous. 

She was unbothered by the pain or neglect she inflicted on others, and in that, she protected herself from emotional harm.

“Right, Mom, that’s why I’m taking Dylan to Charcot. Just a reminder—please have extra food ready for lunch. I’ll be over soon,” I said, cutting our conversation short.

Kristine's joy was palpable. It had been ages since Gwyneth sat down for a family meal. As soon as I hung up, I could almost hear her excitement as she told Lee, her husband, “Hurry! Gwyn is coming back to eat lunch with us!”

I had always been average-looking, but I chased beauty fiercely, honing my makeup skills to a professional level over the years by watching so many Korean make-up tutorials. But even without makeup, the original Gwyneth’s face was stunning. 

Sitting at the vanity, I surveyed the array of skincare products and makeup sprawled across the table, calming myself as I began applying the cosmetics. I couldn’t help but recall a reel I saw from SMS saying, you can’t hide a diamond’s brilliance in mud.

After a little over ten minutes, I looked at my reflection, a wave of satisfaction flooding over me. No matter how naturally attractive someone was, there was a noticeable difference with and without makeup—a few added touches enhanced my overall beauty multiple times over.

Thank heavens who ever invented them.

Reflecting on the plot of the novel, I realized the original Gwyneth harbored no affections for her husband or child, which meant I wouldn’t either. I had no intention of suddenly becoming a devoted wife or mother. 

That wasn’t my goal here. 

I had transmigrated as the Gwyneth of this narrative, and having insight into its plot, I needed to maneuver my way toward advantageous outcomes and avoid anything detrimental.

In the story, Ajax suffered an unfortunate accident while away from home—in a rather clumsy and dramatic fashion, I’d have to say. Regardless, he was still my husband, however nominally. Given my understanding of the plot, I decided it would be best for both of us if he lived.

“Mmm, saving a life earns more karma points, I should prepare incase for reincarnation” I muttered to myself, “Ajax, I’ll lend you a hand. But your survival is ultimately up to you.”

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Before, I had obtained my driver’s license during college and purchased a used car. Yet now, as I settled into the plush seats of the original Gwyneth’s BMW, I could tell it was a significant upgrade. It was nice to be given access to such a lavish vehicle; it was certainly a step above what I was used to.

While driving to my parents household, I sat in contemplation, piecing together the relationships among the characters. The author hadn't elaborated much on Ajax, but what I gathered was that he was a self-made man, having lost his parents early on and remaining largely alone in the world.

In the novel, after his untimely demise, the original Gwyneth was supposed to inherit everything, which would have ensured her financial security for the rest of her life. However, a perilous situation arose in his company shortly thereafter, causing it to plunge into debt. The original Gwyneth knew little about running a business, and despite her efforts, she couldn’t salvage the mess. Eventually, all she was left with were two houses and a car.

From my standpoint, having two houses would have sufficed for any family if they managed their finances well. Renting out one of them could have covered living expenses. Yet, the original Gwyneth was ambitious, and never content with just enough. Eager for another financial lifeline, she embarked on a trip and met a widower who fell for her immediately. With some coaxing, they began dating, and he even proposed marriage. 

While the original Gwyneth could’ve been open with him, she chose not to. Lamentably, she viewed her son as an obstacle to her newfound lifestyle. In an incredibly selfish act, she decided to give her child away to her classmate, who had been unable to conceive. She made a ludicrous condition: her son must never seek her out again, which her classmate eagerly accepted.

To mask her actions, she spun a tale for her parents, claiming Ajax had a younger sister abroad and that Dylan would benefit from living with her aunt. Initially, my grandparents swallowed this story whole, but as time passed, doubts crept in. If he really was living abroad, why hadn’t they heard from him?

Despite their suspicions, feeling powerless, the original Gwyneth brushed them off, becoming increasingly indifferent. She was worse than cold-hearted; she was utterly devoid of feelings. I often wondered if anyone else would dare go that far. There’s a moral line, yet the original Gwyneth had crossed it without a second thought.

As I reached the mid-range neighborhood where my parents lived, I parked the car in front of the house I had bought for them after marrying Ajax. I stepped inside, welcomed by the warmth of family.

Given the hot weather, Kristine had cut up fresh watermelon and prepared fruit juices, while Lee was busy in the kitchen, popping in to chat with me occasionally. 

Looking and observing them, I’m really not sure what should I feel, but it somewhat comforted me. They certainly weren’t perfect, but at least they are trying everything they could to be better.

As I glanced at the adorable child, Dylan, I resolved that if Ajax couldn’t escape his imminent doom, I would keep my son by my side and nurture him into adulthood. As a responsible adult should be, and as a parent should have.

Dylan was three years old now—an undeniably cute age.

Children naturally cling toward their mothers, and even with the original Gwyneth's indifference, he still looked to her for affection. Such a filial child and a waste of a mother. 

I noticed him playing on the mat, occasionally glancing my way with his innocent eyes. Though he’d gained a bit of weight from doting grandparents, he was a darling, blessed with the best traits from both his parents.

Children are really adorable, I almost melted the way he stole glances at me. I don’t understand how could the original Gwyneth be so indifferent to this cute child.

As he timidly lowered his head, shifting his focus back to his toys, a wave of warmth washed over me, compelling me to draw him closer. “Dyl, come here, sweetie,” I gently beckoned, my voice soft and inviting.

In an instant, he dropped his toys and scampered over, his little feet pattering against the floor as he launched himself into my waiting arms with all the exuberance of childhood delight. 

Cradling my precious bundle of joy in my embrace, I cherished this tender moment, feeling as though time had stood still just for us. The warmth of his little body and the softness of his round cheeks filled my heart with a sweetness that was simply unmatched.

So this is how parents feel huh? I really thought that I was okay alone, but unexpectedly this was such a fluff.

Lee and Kristine, watching from the sidelines, wore smiles that radiated happiness and relief. It was evident to me that they had been concerned about my perceived coolness towards their grandson, but the resilience of children never ceased to amaze me. Young hearts possess an extraordinary ability to forgive and forget; they carry no burdens of resentment for long.

Such innocence and wholesomeness of children.

As I held my son close, I found it difficult to reconcile the image of this innocent, giggling child with the notion that he would, in the future, become a villain in the story. 

How could such sweetness possibly grow into anything dark? He genuinely seemed to bear no grudges or ill feelings, effortlessly accepting my affection even though the original Gwyneth had been so indifferent. 

In that moment, surrounded by love and warmth, I believed that perhaps, just perhaps, I could help shape a different path for him—a path filled with love, joy, and kindness.

To be a little more responsible.