Chapter 1

On our third wedding anniversary, Jonathan Black walked in with his pregnant first love, Courtney Huber, and threw a divorce agreement in my face.

"Courtney's pregnant with a son. Your infertile woman should've made room by now."

Courtney caressed her stomach, a smug smile plastered across her face as she taunted me, "Ashlynn, the ones who aren't loved are the third wheel. For the sake of the Black family's legacy, you should just leave with some dignity."

I stared at this despicable pair of man and woman, not shedding a tear or throwing a tantrum. In fact, I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

I calmly pulled a three-year-old medical report from my bag and tossed it onto the coffee table.

"Jonathan, did you forget? Three years ago, to prove your loyalty, you underwent a vasectomy."

Watching Jonathan's face go pale, I grinned even wider.

"Now, tell me, who you are going to leave your legacy to?"

*****

My name was Ashlynn Pollard, and today was our third wedding anniversary.

My husband, Jonathan Black, decided to give me the "surprise" of a lifetime.

He brought his pregnant mistress, Courtney, straight into our home.

The crystal chandelier above was so bright it hurt my eyes.

The face I once loved to the bone was now twisted with impatience and disgust.

He slammed a document onto the polished coffee table, the sound echoing sharply through the room.

"Ashlynn, sign it," he said, his voice icy.

"Courtney's pregnant, and it's a boy," he said with a smug edge.

"Your useless womb ought to step aside for the Black family's heir," he sneered.

Courtney was right next to him, one arm affectionately hooked around his, the other hand carefully cradling her rounded belly.

Her gaze was full of smug triumph and blatant provocation.

"Ashlynn, sorry about that," Courtney said.

But she was grinning ear to ear, her smile practically screaming victory.

"In a relationship, the unloved one is the real third wheel," she said.

"For the Black family's legacy, do yourself a favor and walk away gracefully," she added.

I stared at the scene before me, so absurd, so laughable, it almost felt unreal.

Just like last time, on this very day, in this same place, I heard the exact same words.

Back then, the shock hit me like a bolt of lightning. I was completely stunned.

I sobbed and pleaded with Jonathan, desperate to know if our three years together meant anything at all.

He replied with icy indifference, telling me he never loved me; marrying me was just a way to get the Pollard family's resources.

Now that his company had gone public and he was flying high, I was nothing but yesterday's news to him.

Courtney's pregnancy gave him the perfect reason to toss me aside without a second thought.

I was kicked out, left with nothing but the clothes on my back.

My family had already disowned me for stubbornly marrying Jonathan against their wishes.

With nowhere left to turn, I froze to death beneath an overpass on a snowy night.

As my soul hovered above, I watched Jonathan host a grand party for his so-called "son's" one-month celebration.

But soon enough, a paternity test made him the laughingstock of everyone in the elite circle.

The child wasn't his.

Courtney had been cheating with someone else the whole time.

Jonathan was furious, but by then, Courtney and her lover had already drained his company dry.

In the end, he was left penniless and broken, his fate even more miserable than mine.

But so what?

I was already dead.

After coming back to life, this was the day I had been waiting for.

Waiting for these two scumbags to show up and throw themselves at my feet.

I looked at them, not crying, not making a scene.

I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

My laughter echoed through the silent living room, jarring and out of place.

Jonathan's frown deepened.

"Ashlynn, what the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped.

Courtney's grin vanished, and she shot me a suspicious look.

"Ashlynn, did all this drama finally fry your brain or something?" she sneered.

I ignored them.

Taking my time, I leaned over and reached into my Hermès bag, pulling out another envelope.

It was a medical report I'd kept stashed away for three years.

I tossed it onto the divorce papers with a sharp smack.

"Jonathan, did you forget something?" I asked.

My voice was soft, but it hit Jonathan like a hammer to the chest.

He picked up the report, looking confused.

But when he saw what was written on it, all the color drained from his face.

He went as pale as a sheet.

"Three years ago, right after we got married," I reminded him.

Just thought I'd help you remember.