I Put My Husband’s First Love on a Pedestal After Rebirth
At the medical summit, my husband's precious first love thought the old professor's clothes were too shabby for such a grand occasion.
So she dropped his conference badge into the trash.
The old man shook with fury and threatened to pull his company's partnership with us on the spot.
In my last life, I slapped her across the face right there, then bowed and scraped until the professor forgave us, and that was the only thing that saved our company.
My husband, meanwhile, was heartbroken that his darling had been hit, and took her home to comfort her.
Later, our company rode the professor's patented miracle drug all the way to its IPO.
On the day of the celebration, indecent videos made with my face swapped via AI rolled continuously across the giant screen.
And in front of a hall full of sneering guests, my husband pulled his first love tight against his chest.
"You love slapping people in public, don't you? Today you get to taste what it feels like to be finished."
I ran out of the hotel, sick with shame, and a runaway truck flattened me into the pavement.
Then he turned around, threw the wedding of the century for his golden girl, and drove my parents into the street to die alone in the cold.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exact second she tossed that badge into the trash.
This time, I didn't fly into a rage to stop her.
Instead I curled my arm sweetly through my husband's and laughed louder than anyone in the room.
"Babe, Tiffany's got such a sharp eye. Security should've thrown this ragged beggar out ages ago."