Chapter 1

My husband and I were driving home from Valentine's Day when a sudden car accident changed everything. We were both reborn together.

When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had been sent back to the time before Mathew and I had even started dating.

In our previous life, Mathew and I had been married for seven years. I underwent countless procedures hoping to get pregnant, but a child never came.

Mathew resented me because we never had a kid—he believed our marriage just wasn't complete, and it turned into constant fighting.

This time around, I made up my mind to do what was best for him.

With silent understanding, we pretended to be strangers, brushing past each other in the crowd as if we'd never even met.

Seven years later, I bumped into Mathew again at my daughter's kindergarten dance contest—during the parent-child event, of all places.

He rolled up in a shiny new luxury car, dressed sharp in a custom suit, and as soon as he spotted me, he just had to throw a jab.

"Monica, how many surgeries did you go through this time before you finally managed to have a kid?" Mathew snarked.

I acted like he didn't exist, letting my eyes settle coolly on the little boy clinging to his hand.

Only I knew that the reason there were no kids wasn't me.

I ran into Mathew again at my daughter's kindergarten dance contest—of all things, the parent-child event.

He strode in wearing a tailored Hermès suit, absolutely oozing that elite CEO vibe with every move.

The other parents watched, eyes practically sparkling with envy, falling over themselves to flatter him.

"You're Mr. Clayton, right? I can't believe my kid goes to the same kindergarten as yours—it honestly feels like hitting the jackpot!" one parent gushed.

Just then, someone in the crowd asked, "Mr. Clayton, you and your wife seem so happy together—are you guys thinking about having another kid soon?"

For once, Mathew actually cracked a smile.

"My wife's already pregnant. In a few months, I'm going to be a dad again," he announced.

The other parents immediately started congratulating him.

Just then, Ms. Paris Emerson locked eyes with me in the very last row. "Are you here for your child? Parents sit up front!" she called out.

Suddenly, every parent in the place whipped around to look at me—great, talk about getting put on the spot.

"Sure," I replied, keeping it cool as I got up and slid into an empty seat in the front row.

The moment Mathew spotted me, that gentle smile on his face froze solid.

"Monica, you? With a kid? Didn't see that coming," he blurted out.

I glanced at him coolly and said, "Yep, got a little girl."

Mathew stared at me like he'd just seen a ghost—then he let out a scornful chuckle, scooting in a bit closer and lowering his voice.

"So, what is it? Did you pick her up from an orphanage, or maybe she's just your stepkid?" he taunted.

"Doesn't matter either way—with you turning up dressed like some bargain-bin auntie selling trinkets on the sidewalk, your girl must be dying of embarrassment," he snarked.

Before I could respond, a sweet, chirpy voice called out to me, "Mommy, look at me!"

I turned to the stage, my eyes landing on my little girl up there.

"I'm watching, baby," I said gently.

I spotted Mathew's son too. Talk about fate—his kid was in the same class as my daughter, and they were even performing the same routine.

Mathew followed my gaze to the stage, where a little girl in a white tulle dress was waving excitedly at me.

He froze, his eyes glued to my daughter's face, completely transfixed.

My daughter looked just like me.

Her eyes, nose, mouth—every feature seemed sculpted from the exact same mold.

"Monica, wow, who would've thought? You really ended up with a kid, huh?" Mathew sneered.

"So, how many fertility procedures did you have this time just to keep some guy from leaving? And look at you—he can't even afford to get you a decent dress. Is it really worth it, chasing after a guy who can't even give you a good life?" he scoffed.

My gaze instantly turned cold.

Back then, Mathew and his mom loved to call me infertile—never missing a chance to laugh at me.

They made me go through more than a dozen fertility surgeries, all so I'd magically pop out a kid—except it just left me aging overnight, packing on the pounds, and feeling weaker by the day.

But in the end, I was the only one who knew the real story.

Turns out, I wasn't the one who couldn't have kids.

When I didn't say a word, Mathew just scoffed at me.

"Honestly, ditching you was the best decision I ever made," he sneered.

"Now that you're not weighing me down, my career's booming. I'm loaded, and I've got a precious son. But look at you—you're no better off than the janitors cleaning up after everyone else."

Mathew got more and more smug as he talked, rolling up his sleeve to show off his fancy watch.

"Take a good look—this is a luxury timepiece, something you couldn't even dream of affording. Remember when you just blocked me on WhatsApp? Bet you're kicking yourself now, huh?" he sneered.

I shot the watch a quick glance—stuff like that? I got a whole collection gathering dust in my trophy case back home. It didn't impress me one bit.

I turned away, focusing again on my little girl's performance. "Congrats," I said coolly, not bothering to give Mathew another second of attention.

Mathew's brows furrowed hard, his whole vibe sour and frustrated.

"Monica, really? You're just sitting there like nothing happened—not even a hint of regret? Not the slightest pang of bitterness?" he sneered.