Chapter 1
In Khark's high-society scene, all the young heirs partied hard—except for Joshua Ortega. Everyone knew he was notoriously devoted to me; if I left his side for even an hour, he'd lose it.
But on the day I found out I was pregnant, I got a mocking video from my junior, followed by a flurry of taunting texts.
[Margie, do you have any clue how hooked Joshua is on me? Three days, eight boxes of strawberry-flavored ultra-thins—all gone!]
[Too bad you're so uptight and boring. That kind of thrill? Only I can give it to him. Tonight, he's mine again—he just stepped out to call you.]
Right then, my phone rang. I took a deep breath and answered.
"Honey, the company's got an out-of-town music festival to attend..."
I cut him off mid-sentence. "Go ahead. They're waiting for you."
I hung up, drew up a divorce agreement, grabbed my packed suitcase, and boarded a plane.
I never imagined it would crash, killing me and my unborn twins—one body, three lives lost.
When I opened my eyes again, I'd been sent back to the year he loved me most.
*****
Staring at the man kneeling before me on one knee, ring in hand, I said calmly, "Joshua, let's break up."
Joshua stared at me, mouth agape, clearly caught completely off guard by my refusal.
His face went pale. "Margie, do you think this proposal wasn't grand enough? I can arrange another one to make up for it..."
I met his gaze. "No need. Let's break up."
The entire scene fell into a strange, heavy silence.
The man still kneeling on one knee slowly let the diamond ring drop to his side.
His handsome features twisted as his eyes reddened, brimming with hurt and disbelief.
Joshua knew how deeply I loved him—down to my very core.
As a singer, I'd always steered clear of carbonated drinks to protect my voice, but for him, I'd once joined in at a party, sipping bubbly champagne right alongside him.
I'd never knit a scarf in my life, but after he offhandedly mentioned his neck feeling cold, I pulled all-nighters for a full week to make one by hand just for him.
It wasn't only him who knew—the whole internet saw me as the ultimate love-obsessed fool.
So when I calmly declared we were over, the crowd was utterly stunned.
Joshua quickly shut down all the on-site media live streams.
The scripted trending topic flipped on its head in an instant, leaving everyone scrambling.
That was when Shelby Jimenez, in her skimpy outfit, rushed over and seized my hand.
"Margie, what did Joshua do to piss you off? Tell me, and I'll give him hell in private. You can't throw a fit like this here—you've got to let him save face.
"Or are you actually caving to your dad and heading home for that business arranged marriage?"
Joshua's face drained of color, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at me. "Margie, what the hell does she mean?"
My father had always pushed me to leave the music world behind and enter a strategic marriage for the family business.
But for the sake of true love, I'd rebelled against him over and over, even severing our father-daughter ties.
In the end, I'd lost it all.
I glanced at the man before me—his face flushed, teetering on the edge of a breakdown—then shifted my eyes to Shelby.
In my past life, she'd been my junior.
But while I was pregnant, she'd seduced Joshua and become his kept mistress.
Right under my nose, her gazes at him dripped with unspoken desire, and I'd been blind to it all.
I yanked my hand free with a cold glare. "I've already agreed to the arranged marriage, so there's no point in proposing. We're finished."
"No way! I don't believe it!" Seeing my resolve, Joshua spiraled into full panic.
"Margie, if I messed up somewhere, I'll fix it—I swear. Don't pull this kind of joke; I can't handle it."
His eyes locked onto mine, his whole demeanor on the brink of shattering.
Even I felt a flicker of doubt wash over me.
I knew this was the peak of his love for me.
He'd pull every string to hunt down a limited-edition music player across the city just because I'd mentioned liking it once, even getting friends to ship one from overseas.
When I'd strain my throat from overpracticing songs, he'd brew soothing soup himself every day and spoon-feed it to me.
During his confession, he'd vowed with utter sincerity, "Margie, every bit of tenderness and favoritism in this world—I want to save it all for you. For the rest of our lives, I'll shield you from everything, never letting anyone hurt you in the slightest."
My cheeks had warmed as I asked, "And what if you're the one who ends up hurting me someday?"
"Then don't you dare forgive me."
I couldn't deny the depth of his love now, but I could never erase the memory of his betrayal twelve years later—or those two innocent children.
They were the twins I'd carried with such hope and joy, only for them to become casualties of our crumbling marriage.