Chapter 1

In my previous life, my husband convinced me to quit my job to focus on my pregnancy.

But I accidentally overheard him telling someone that my heavily pregnant body looked like a slab of dead meat, completely killing his sex drive.

When I hemorrhaged during delivery and desperately needed surgery, I heard him screaming outside the delivery room. "No surgery. If she dies, she dies. Just let me inherit her money already!"

Floating as a spirit after my death, I actually saw him walking arm in arm with my best friend, Abigail Carter, into a designer boutique to buy a purse.

It was the exact bag he knew I loved but always claimed was too expensive.

Given a second chance, I absolutely refuse to make the same mistakes.

*****

I opened my eyes to find my manager looking at me with pure concern. "Lily, are you really sure about resigning?"

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I had traveled back in time to when I was exactly three months pregnant.

My mind flashed back to my previous life. This was the exact moment I stepped down from my career because of my husband's sweet talk.

I was a top tier real estate agent making over seven hundred thousand dollars a year, and I loved my team.

But my husband insisted I quit. He claimed that since he was unemployed, he could stay home and take perfect care of me and the baby.

The reality was it just made it easier for him to drain my bank accounts.

One minute he complained that taking care of me was exhausting and demanded a three thousand dollar massage chair.

The next, he insisted on buying expensive imported groceries to make me nutritious soups.

He would force me to drink only the broth, claiming it held all the nutrients, while he devoured all the premium meat and veggies himself.

Then he would claim he needed to keep up appearances drinking with his buddies and demand I transfer him ten grand.

Even when I was bleeding out and fighting for my life, his only thought was my money. He even spent my hard earned cash on my so called best friend after my death.

Given this second chance, I am not letting anyone hurt me again.

I smiled at my manager. "I just thought it over. I'm not quitting."

She squeezed my hand in relief. "Good. A woman always needs her own career. Plus, you're our top closer. I can't let you go."

I laughed softly. "Yeah, how could I bear to leave you and the team? Where else would I find such a great job?"

She suggested I take some time off closer to my due date and take a proper maternity leave, assuring me my desk would be waiting.

I held her hand tightly in deep gratitude.

When I got home, my husband Edward Thornton was lounging on the sofa, glued to his phone.

He didn't even bother to look up. "Did you quit?" he asked.

I nodded and lied. "Yeah, I quit."

"That's great, honey. You can finally relax at home. Let me take good care of you and our baby." Then he went right back to staring at his screen.

I stayed silent, sneering internally.

Before I even walked closer, I caught a glimpse of an Instagram video playing on his phone. It was Abigail.

I knew she had posted it yesterday.

In the video, Abigail wore a tight mini dress while playing the piano. The melody was choppy and incomplete.

The dress hugged her curves perfectly, her long hair fell over her shoulders, and the dim lighting gave her an alluring vibe.

Her caption read: [After years of piano lessons, sometimes you just have to show off.]

The comments were flooded with praise.

[So gorgeous and hot! And you play piano too!]

[Abigail is an absolute goddess. Way better than ninety nine percent of girls out there!]

[Is this what a perfect rich girl looks like?]

But only I knew the truth. She never took proper piano lessons.

This was just a month long scam.

She had gone to every music studio in her neighborhood, buying up ten dollar trial classes.

She only took three classes total, demanding the instructors teach her the exact same song: Für Elise.

That was why her playing sounded so terrible.

A chilling thought struck me. They were already hooking up right now, or perhaps even earlier.

Abigail was my only bridesmaid at my wedding, which was supposedly the first and only time they met.

I was so blinded by the bliss of being a newlywed that I never noticed anything wrong between them.