Chapter 6

In my so-called "last life," just like the chat kept reminding me, I was suffocated by all those expectations—always told I should understand, should accept—and it led me straight to disaster.

I slowly turned my head to look at him.

Bathed in the dim corridor light, his well-defined features still marked him as the special forces captain adored by countless people. But to me, all I saw was someone fake and repulsive.

"Jack, you don't need to explain anything to me," I said, my voice calm, no anger, no hurt—just pure ice.

He froze for a second, clearly didn't see that coming from me.

I wore a mocking smile. "I'm well aware of your choice. The moment you said, 'I choose Wendy,' we were done."

Jack's brows knitted together. "Sophia! Do you have to throw a fit right now? I told you, it was just for show! I came for you as soon as I could! You're fine, aren't you?"

"Fine?" I repeated, the word echoing in my empty chest. Sure, my body was fine, but my heart had long gone. It died in that tragic ending the comments kept warning me about, and it died the moment he chose her without even blinking.

I said, standing up and looking down at him, "Yeah, I'm fine. So, congratulations, Captain Carter. You made the 'right' choice—saved your beloved Wendy. Now, go on and keep protecting your Wendy, so delicate she can't even take care of herself."

With that, I turned and walked away, not letting him get another word in.

"Sophia!" Jack growled behind me, his voice tight with barely contained anger. However, I didn't stop.

At the end of the hallway, Wendy was standing by her hospital room door, wrapped in a baggy hospital gown that made her look even more fragile and pitiful.

She glanced our way, her eyes full of concern, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible smirk on her face.

The comments popped up right on cue.

[LMAO, karma hits fast! Jack looks totally lost!]

[Sophia, you totally shut him down! Why should you have to understand him? Just because he thinks he's all that?]

[Wendy's still putting on her act! Gross!]

I walked right past her, couldn't even be bothered to look her way.

When I got back to the "home" Jack and I called ours—a fancy penthouse in some upscale complex—it felt like a cruel joke. This place once held all my hopes for marriage, but now all that was left was bitter irony.

I didn't bother with the lights. The neon glow from outside spilled in, casting a cold, empty light as I looked around this icy "nest."

Every piece of furniture, every decoration, practically screamed Jack's presence. As for me? There was barely a trace of me here.

I walked into the bedroom and opened the closet. My clothes were shoved into a tiny corner, while his uniforms and everyday clothes dominated the rest of the space.

I grabbed the biggest suitcase I could find and started packing my stuff on autopilot.

Clothes, skincare products, a few books, and that photo album locked away at the very back of the drawer, with just a handful of pictures of me and him.

I took it out and glanced at the photos. There I was, beaming, nestled against Jack, my eyes full of happiness and dependence.

How absurd I used to be!

I tossed the album into the suitcase and slammed the lid shut with a dull thud.

Then I grabbed my phone and blocked Jack everywhere.

When I finished, it felt like a weight had finally been lifted off my shoulders.

Wendy was next. I scrolled through my contacts until I found her name—Wendy.

This was the woman who wrecked my life with her Oscar-worthy performance and her twisted schemes.

I typed out a message, keeping my tone calm, even adding a touch of "kindness."

[Wendy, hope you're recovering after today's scare. There's something I thought I should mention. The kidnappers didn't seem interested in money—maybe someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes.

[Have you upset anyone lately? Just a guess, since Jack didn't really dig into their background—he was too busy making sure you were comfortable. Wishing you all the best.]

Given Wendy's suspicious, jealous, and guilt-ridden nature, I was well aware that this text, which appeared to be a friendly check-in but actually insinuated some underhanded business, would be like a thorn lodged in her heart.

She'd start second-guessing whether Jack really believed her, worry about what I might know, and get even more desperate to keep her grip on him.

If she really was mixed up with the kidnappers, she'd be even more paranoid, scared that her secrets would get exposed.

That was exactly what I wanted—to throw her off her game and make her panic.

All those grudges the chat kept bringing up? I was going to make her pay them back, with interest.

Once I was done, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of this so-called "home" without a second thought.