Chapter 1

There was a lipstick left on the passenger seat of my husband Curtis Bennett's car.

It was a Lancôme lipstick in a shade I'd never seen before.

After this day in my previous life, I went from being a respectable, rich wife to a madwoman in the attic.

I installed a tracking app on Curtis's phone, hired a private investigator to tail him, and even called the police to catch him at a hotel.

I went through every desperate, humiliating thing imaginable.

And finally, thanks to all my crazy efforts, I caught Curtis in bed with his secretary, Jessica King, right on our seventh wedding anniversary.

After that, our messy divorce exploded into the open.

Curtis went after me like I was his sworn enemy and clung to every penny of his fortune.

I hunted down every lawyer in town, but in the end, all I got was a pathetic 16 bucks from the whole divorce.

But right after the divorce, I was diagnosed with cancer.

When the pain was so bad that I thought that I was going to die, I lost all my dignity and groveled at Curtis's feet.

Curtis just stood there and let Jessica slap me three times, not even giving me a single cent.

In the end, broke and alone, I froze to death right outside the door of the house I'd lived in for seven years.

So, this time around, when I saw that same lipstick lying on the passenger seat, I calmly picked it up and, without a word, tucked it away in the glove compartment for him.

Seeing what I did, Curtis suddenly blurted out, "That lipstick is Jessica's. Yesterday I took her out for dinner with some clients. Honestly, she's a bit clueless. She thought she could seal the deal by getting everyone drunk.

"So, the moment we sat down, she started toasting everyone like there was no tomorrow. Sure, she got the contract, but by the end, she was so wasted that she could barely stand.

"I know you hate it when other women sit in my passenger seat, but Jessica is a family friend. Her dad helped me out a ton when I was starting. I couldn't leave her hanging."

He'd said the same thing in my previous life.

Back then, when I found that lipstick and heard him talk about his new secretary in that indulgent, almost spoiling tone, I just snapped.

I furiously unbuckled my seatbelt and started shouting at Curtis, "Pull over, Curtis. Your car is as disgusting as you are."

After that, everything kind of blurred together.

All I really remembered was that Curtis kicked me out of the car on the side of the road, spat the word "shrew" at me, and then sped off.

I was left out there, wandering the streets for four hours, drenched in freezing winter rain, and crying the whole time.

My heels were bleeding from those damn high heels.

Soaked to the bone, I came down with a 104-degree fever.

While I was stuck at home, sick and barely clinging to life, Curtis jetted off overseas with Jessica for a business trip in the dead of night.

Pics and videos of him fixing the strap on Jessica's spaghetti-strap dress, and her leaning in to kiss his cheek, ended up all over the office gossip feed.

Seriously, how dumb was I in my previous life, thinking that hurting myself would somehow make Curtis turn back for me?

It was so pathetic. When I thought of these, without even realizing it, I let out a self-deprecating smirk.

But the next second, Curtis slammed on the brakes.

He pulled over onto the shoulder, his voice getting louder as he snapped, "How many times do I have to say it? Jessica is a family friend's daughter. I'm just helping her out, that's all.

"There's nothing between us, seriously. Can you quit being so paranoid?"

Watching the anger flare up on his face, I felt my chest tighten with a bitter pang.

But it wasn't because of him. I was bitter for the fool I used to be.

In my previous life, I had pancreatic cancer, the kind that was said to be the most agonizing cancer on earth.

Every single day, it was either nurses coming at me with those ridiculously long needles, stabbing me until I was bawling all over myself, or me curled up on the floor, clutching my stomach, rolling around and sobbing, begging for death to come.

When I was at my absolute lowest, with no money left, I was so desperate that I took a knife and stabbed my own emaciated body again and again, wishing to be able to sleep through the night, once.

But still, I couldn't bring myself to sell our wedding ring to pay for another dose of pain relief.

Even when the doctor gave me a death sentence, saying I had only one month left, I still hauled my frail, bony self out the door, thinking maybe I could convince him to get back together.

Because back when my parents died, he'd made this solemn promise, swearing he'd never leave me, no matter what.

But when I finally made it back to the house we'd shared for seven years, I had to plead desperately with the guard, humbling myself completely, before he finally agreed to help me get touch with Curtis.

As soon as Curtis heard me say his name, he calmly replied, "Cecilia, we're divorced. That means we have nothing to do with each other anymore. Whatever happens to you, don't ever contact me again."

And with that, he hung up.

After that, I just crumpled in the backyard of the villa.

At the very end, when my life was fading away, I saw Curtis holding Jessica in his arms.

They were in the home I'd once poured my heart into, using the utensils I'd bought, the wine glasses I'd carefully chosen, having a romantic dinner and kissing like they were the only two people in the world.

My chest tightened so much that I could hardly breathe. I didn't want to think about my previous life anymore, so I quietly took out the sleep mask from my bag and slipped it on.

"I trust there's nothing between you and Jessica," I said. "So, can we get going?"

Curtis shot me a surprised look, but I calmly took off my sleep mask like nothing had happened.