Independence

I was reborn on the day my sister, Tilda Wright, and I had to pick our husbands. That was when I realized I could hear people’s thoughts. I heard Tilda say, [This time, I’m gonna make sure I grab the best husband first.] Then, just like that, she rushed over and took the sweet guy I had married in my last life, while I ended up with the abusive man who used to beat her every day. I laughed to myself. Did she really think the guy I married before was some perfect gentleman?

Imagine my shock when I found out that my husband, a professor who had proudly embraced a childless life for half of his years, had an affair with one of his own students. She even had his six-year-old son. The day I planned to report him to the university, Zia Thompson came to my door with the child and knelt in front of me. "Maybe you and Zeke were in love once," she said. "But he's over forty now. Who doesn't want to have a child? A legacy?" "I don't need a title," she went on. "I can give up the child too. I just beg you, don't tear our family apart." I looked at my husband, who stood protectively in front of them. I felt terrifyingly calm. "Cut ties with them," I said, my voice flat, "or prepare to be reported to the university. You choose." Without a moment's hesitation, he tore the report letter into shreds. I thought that was his answer. But on the fifty-second night of a bed grown cold and a home echoing with silence, he still hadn't returned. Instead, I received news that Zia was pregnant again. She had graduated by then. The report I never sent no longer posed any threat to them. Zeke didn't bother to hide his fatigue and irritation anymore. "Treat Zia and the kids well," he said, "or keep living alone in that empty house. It's your choice." My heart was already a wasteland. "I have one more option," I said. "I choose divorce."

All I did was post a photo of the exquisite pink diamond necklace my dad gave me for my birthday. An intern, however, confronted me in front of everyone. “Miss Anderson, why is my necklace with you? Do you think being a manager gives you the right to steal from others?” I calmly explained that it was a birthday gift from my dad, personally purchased at an auction. She didn’t believe me. Instead, she pulled out surveillance footage showing me entering and leaving her office and flat-out accused me of being a thief. “Some people can’t get what they want, so they resort to stealing. Do you honestly think taking a necklace means you can take over someone’s entire life? And you’re actually trying to pass yourself off as the heiress of Anderson Corporation? Isn’t that completely ridiculous?”

Three years of marriage, and every time we make love, he does it from behind. “Aidan! Why do you always avoid looking at my face? Is it because you're afraid of seeing the person you're sleeping with is me, not my sister?” “You want me to look at you while we do it? Then let me give you what you want.Anyways, Zoey is nothing like you. She is pure and innocent. Maybe Aidan is right. He was originally my sister's mate, 'stolen' from her, and he will never truly belong to me. But when I decided to break the mate bond with him, I found out I was pregnant.

My father bought twin brothers from the black market to serve as bodyguards for me and my sister. My sister chose the tall, strong older brother, leaving me with the frail, mute younger one. Feeling sorry for him, I kept him close, seeking doctors for his silence and maintaining distance to respect his apparent OCD. I thought trauma had shaped him that way. But when our father's enemies kidnapped us, he abandoned me without hesitation, choosing to die shielding my sister. In his final moments, he spoke for the first time. "You finally see me." To me, he said, "In the next life, please don't choose me." I realized then that he was neither mute nor afflicted with OCD. His silence and aversion were directed solely at me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we chose the bodyguards. This time, I'd grant his wish.

I had been married to James Tennant for seven years. In that time, he had already kept twenty-nine mistresses, like pretty little canaries in gilded cages. Now, I saw the thirtieth one in our bedroom, young and draped in nothing but a bath towel, lounging across our bed. I turned to him and asked coldly, “Can’t get enough out there, huh? Did you really have to bring her home?” The girl deliberately tugged her towel lower, her pale skin showing as she sneered, “Mr. Tennant says you’re like a dead corpse in bed! He wanted me to teach you how to please a man.” That night, I was forced to watch their little performance right in front of me. The next morning, James was furious at my indifference, resenting me for not reacting. However, he seemed to forget that our marriage was nothing but a contract, and in just one week, that contract would expire.

In my past life, I worked at a secret research lab abroad. From there, I learned the pyro-calypse was approaching, so I quit my job, intending to gather my family to stockpile necessities and hide out in the mountains. However, my evil mother, her lover, and my brother killed me. When I next open my eyes, I find myself reborn on the day I return home. This time, I keep the news to myself and stockpile necessities in our mountain villa. At the same time, I get revenge on my evil family and make them get the punishment they deserve.

When I miscarried due to a car accident, Aidan Brown drove past my car with his Beta. He glanced at the blood on the ground in disdain and covered Seraphina Gross’s curious eyes. “Don’t look at this horrible sight. It’s bad luck.” I tried to use mind-link to call him when I saw his car. However, he did not respond to me, and his car disappeared from my sight. That night, I saw the lipstick stain on his shirt collar and smiled bitterly. I felt pain shoot through my heart. I immediately understood what it meant. I called the Alpha of the Valoria pack. “Kieran Wesley, I’ve thought it through. I’ll join your company next week.”

For the ninth time, my wife chose to have an abortion for the sake of her ailing first love. This time, I did not stop her. Even when my grandfather flew into a fit of rage, his heart faltering as he called me a disgrace to the family, I stayed silent. The truth was that I had already decided to divorce her. In three days, I'd be leaving for Westmarch to begin my research. Until then, I have decided to grant her every wish. If she wanted me to hand over a promotion so her first love could take the credit, I gave it up without hesitation. If she wanted to bring him home to rest, I vacated the master bedroom on the spot. She beamed with satisfaction, praising me for finally learning to be "sensible." She promised that once he recovered, she would give me a child of my own. However, what she did not know was that there would be no next time.

Our seventh wedding anniversary. I sat at the dining table—alone. My phone buzzed, lighting up with two messages. First, from Tom: [Working late at the office tonight.] Second, anonymous: [Tom is incredible. Can you even keep up?] Attached was a picture of him, lips locked with a woman I didn't recognize. I blew out the candles on the anniversary cake. Eyes shut, I typed back: [Let's divorce.]