Chapter 1

After coming back to life, I slammed the divorce papers down in front of Emily Cooper.

She didn't even look up. "Don't even think about fighting for custody."

"I'm not fighting. Ethan's yours," I said.

Emily's hand froze on her cup.

In my last life, I'd stomached her and Richard Miles for eighteen years, all so Ethan wouldn't grow up in a broken home.

But at Ethan's graduation, he grabbed the mic and told everyone, "Richard waited eighteen years for my mom. I hope my dad can let them be together."

Emily smiled from her seat in the audience.

This time, I packed my bags and never looked back.

The three of them could have each other.

Just this once, I was going to live for myself.

*****

March 15, 2024.

When I opened my eyes, the crack in the ceiling was still there, just like before.

I froze for three seconds, just staring at it.

That crack appeared during the earthquake in 2024.

After I moved out, I never saw that crack again.

I shot up in bed and grabbed my phone from the nightstand.

March 15, 2024.

It was Friday.

My hands were shaking.

In my previous life, on this very day, I'd just gotten the first proof of Emily's affair—flirty texts from Richard.

Back then, I chose to swallow it.

I told myself, 'Ethan's only six. He needs his mom.'

I endured it for a year, then two, five, ten till the eighteen.

For eighteen years, I kept this family together, humiliating myself like a beaten dog.

I made the money, cooked, drove Ethan around, and helped him with his homework.

And Emily?

She was always "working late" every Wednesday, and "on business trips" two days every month.

I knew everything.

I swallowed it all.

It was just for my good son who stood on the graduation stage, took the mic, and told me, "Dad, you should let them be together."

Damn it.

I threw off the covers and stepped barefoot onto the cold floor.

The cold brought me back to my senses.

This wasn't a dream.

I really came back.

Emily was still asleep in the next room.

Yeah, we'd been sleeping in separate rooms for two years now.

She always complained about my snoring.

Honestly, she just couldn't be bothered to keep up the act anymore.

I walked into the study, turned on my computer, and took twenty minutes to print out the divorce papers.

The property split was simple: the house and car went to her, and we split the savings fifty-fifty.

For custody, I just wrote: [Emily Cooper gets custody.]

When the printer spat out the papers, my hands didn't shake at all.

I spent eighteen years swallowing my pride in my last life.

This time, I was done.

*****

At 7:30 in the morning, Emily stepped out of her room.

She was wearing silk pajamas, her hair thrown up in a messy bun, and she had that sleepy, just-out-of-bed look on her face.

Emily looked stunning at thirty-two.

That face was what got me hooked in my last life.

"It's the weekend. You take Ethan to his classes," she said, pouring herself a glass of water without even glancing my way.

I slid the divorce papers across the table to her.

"Sign them," I said.

She glanced down, her glass paused halfway to her lips.

Then she smiled.

"Michael, what kind of game are you playing?" she said.

"I'm not playing games. I want a divorce," I said.

She picked up the papers, scanned them, and her gaze paused at the line about custody.

Then she tossed the papers back onto the table.

Emily narrowed her eyes. "You think you can use our son against me?"

I shook my head. "No threats. Ethan's yours. I won't fight you for him."

Her expression shifted.

We'd been together for ten years.

She knew Ethan was my whole world.

There was nothing I wouldn't endure for him.

She'd always used that to control me.

She was caught off guard.

"What did you just say?" Emily asked.

"I said, Ethan's yours. I'm not going to fight you for him," I replied.

She just stared at me, silent, for ten whole seconds.

"Are you out of your mind?" she snapped, shoving the papers back at me. "Go get your head checked before you start talking crazy."

I didn't take them.

"If you don't sign in three days, I'll file for divorce in court. I have evidence of your cheating," I said.

Emily's face went pale.

"What did you just say?" she asked.

"Richard Miles. Every Wednesday. You two meet up at the hotel across from Maple Mall. Room 308. Same room every time," I said.

Her lips trembled.

"You were following me?" Emily said, her voice shaky.

"Are you signing or not?" I asked.

She just sat there, silent for a long time.

Emily picked up the papers again, this time reading them carefully.

She picked up the agreement again, and this time she read every word. She got the house, the car, and half the savings.

Custody was hers.

She realized I was really leaving with nothing at all.

"You're really leaving with nothing?" she looked up at me, her eyes were a mess of emotions.

"The house was bought after we got married, and it's in your name. Same with the car. Splitting the savings is just how the law works. I can't do anything about it. Everything else? I don't care about it," I said.

She locked her eyes on me, desperate to catch even a flicker of doubt.

But my face was stone cold. I was calmer than those divorce papers.

"You really don't want Ethan?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"Michael," she said, pressing the papers down on the table, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Are you seeing someone else?"

I smirked, a bitter laugh escaping me.

In my last life, I was the one asking her that.

What did she say to me back then?

She'd said, "You're overthinking it."

"You're overthinking it," I said.

Then I turned and walked back to the study.

*****

At noon, Emily called her mom.

I could hear her on the balcony, keeping her voice low, but a few words still drifted in.

She whispered, "He said he doesn't want Ethan Yeah, he's leaving with nothing I have no clue what the hell's gotten into him"

At two in the afternoon, Emily's mother, Linda Green, showed up.

She was sixty-two, with a head of permed curls. The first thing she did when she walked in was kick off her slippers at the door and strut into the living room in her high heels.

"Michael Cooper!" she called out.

I came out of the study.

"Linda," I said.

"Don't call me that," Linda shot back, dropping onto the couch and crossing her legs. "So you want a divorce now? Who do you think you are, thinking you can just leave my daughter?"

I just stared back at her, keeping my mouth shut.

Linda was a nightmare in my last life.

Every time she came over, she had something to complain about the floors weren't shiny enough, the food wasn't good enough, and my paycheck was never enough for her.

She always said, "Emily must've been cursed to end up with you."

Later, I found out that every time Emily was cheating with Richard, Linda was the one covering for her.

Girls' nights out, staying at Linda's place for a few days was all her doing.

"Michael, are you seeing someone else?" Linda asked, her tone just like Emily's.

"No. We just don't get along anymore. It's not working out," I said.

"Not compatible?" Linda jumped up from the couch. "You've been married for ten years, and now you suddenly say you're not compatible?"

"Yeah, guess it took me ten years to realize," I replied.

"You—" Linda's face was flushed with anger, her finger stabbing at me. "Michael, I'm telling you, if you dare leave my daughter and grandson, you'll be finished in this city!"

Looking at her finger with that bright red nail polish, I couldn't help but find it hilarious.

Last time, that line really got to me.

Linda had been on the community board for twenty years. She knew everyone, and her mouth never stopped running.

I was afraid she'd trash my name all over town, so I kept my head down and took it.

"Mrs. Green." I changed how I called her. "The papers spell it out. The house and car are your daughter's, we split the savings down the middle, and I'm not even asking for Ethan. Tell me, what's so unfair about that?"

Linda choked on her words.

She opened her mouth to argue, but realized she really had nothing to complain about.

"Then why are you even getting a divorce? Why are you stirring up trouble when everything's just fine?" she demanded.

I turned to leave, stopping at the door. "Three days. If you don't sign, I'll see you in court. I've got all the evidence."

Linda shouted after me, "What evidence? What proof do you have?"

I shut the door behind me.

*****

On the third day, Emily finally put her signature on the papers.

A mess of emotions crossed her face as she signed the papers.

Confusion came first, then a flash of contempt, and buried beneath both, a trace of relief she'd almost managed to hide.

As far as she was concerned, her eyesore of a husband had finally walked out on his own. She wouldn't have to sneak around anymore.

"Michael," she said, setting the pen down and looking up at me. "You'll regret this."

"No, I won't," I replied.

"You can't even pay for Ethan's school by yourself. You really think divorce means freedom? You're broke and alone," she sneered.

I folded up the papers and grabbed my suitcase by the door.

A twenty-inch carry-on held everything I owned—a few changes of clothes, a beat-up laptop, and a portable hard drive.

What no suitcase could hold was eighteen years of engineering experience and every connection I'd built in my past life, all locked away between my ears.

I also knew exactly what the future held, from which stocks would multiply tenfold to which tracts of land would get rezoned to which industries were about to blow wide open.

That kind of knowledge was worth more than anything money could buy.

"Goodbye," I said.

I pulled the door open.

As I stepped outside, the sunlight washed over my face.

The March breeze was still chilly, but I felt warmer than ever.

In my previous life, I was trapped behind that door for eighteen years.

It was like being in prison.

But this time, things were different.

Now, I was finally free.

*****