Chapter 2

But what I regretted wasn't that I didn't give him enough.

It was that I gave him too much.

James snatched his coat off the couch.

"Fine," he said. "Keep the house. I'll figure it out myself."

At the door, he turned back and shot me a look.

He said, "But Emily, remember this day. When I really make it big, don't say I never gave you the chance to rise with me."

The door slammed behind him.

Before Margaret rushed after him, she gave me a death glare.

"You'll regret this, just you wait!" she snapped.

Soon, I was the only one left in the house.

I stood in the living room.

The only sound was my own breathing.

Just like last time, it was today.

After signing the contract, I hugged James and told him things would only get better for us.

He kissed my forehead.

He promised me, "Emily, when I make it big, I'll buy you an even bigger house."

And later, he really did buy a bigger house.

It was over 3,000 square feet.

Olivia picked out the decor.

And after the divorce, I didn't even have this little house anymore.

Thinking of this, I reached out and touched the edge of the table.

The house was still here.

Thank goodness.

Just then, my phone buzzed.

A message popped up in the company group chat.

I froze.

And then, memories came rushing back.

In my previous life, the company was picking someone to lead a major project in east district.

The boss called me in for a one-on-one.

If I nailed it, I'd be up for sales director by year-end.

But back then, James was launching his startup.

James said he needed me at his new company.

"You can always get another job," James said. "But this is my only shot at starting a business."

I pulled out of the running to help him.

Half a year later, I handed in my resignation.

And now, Elliott Quinn's private message was still sitting quietly in my inbox. [Emily, the lead for the key project in east district still hasn't been decided. You've got what it takes, so I really hope you'll give it some serious thought.]

The message was sent three days ago.

In my previous life, I never replied.

I stared at the screen for a few seconds.

I went straight to typing. [Mr. Quinn, I've made up my mind. I'm in.]

I hit send.

Almost at the same time, a new post popped up on my social feed.

It was from Olivia.

She sent a photo of a cup of coffee and two laptops.

In the corner of the photo, I could see half of James's wrist.

The caption was just one sentence. [The people who truly believe in you never back down when you need them most.]

If it had been me in my previous life, even the tiniest regret would've been smothered the moment I saw something like this.

I'd believe James would really lose his shot if I didn't sell the house.

Trying to help him, I'd even knock 3 thousand off the price, hurrying the realtor to close the deal.

Now, looking at it again, I just found it ridiculous.

Just as I was about to exit my social feed, Margaret's call popped up.

As soon as I answered, Margaret's smug voice rang out.

"Emily, did you really think James's company couldn't get off the ground without your house?" she sneered. "Let me tell you something.

"We've almost got all the money we need now.

"Even without your 500 thousand dollars, my son can still start his business just fine."

My hand paused on the phone.

This was different from last time.

In my previous life, almost all of James's initial funding came from me.

This time, I hadn't sold the house.

So where did he get the money?

Margaret was still mocking me on the other end of the line.

"James said the company will open as scheduled next month," she said. "Just don't come crying to me when you regret it."

She hung up.

I stood in the living room, staring at the project confirmation message I'd just received.

It wasn't until this moment that I truly realized that ever since I refused to sign the house sale contract, this life had already veered off its original course.

And James actually managed to pull the money together.

I thought Margaret was trying to get under my skin.

But that was until half a month later.

That day, I got off work and headed back to the house James and I shared. As soon as I walked in, I saw a company grand opening invitation sitting on the coffee table.

"The grand opening is next Saturday," James said, his voice casual.

But he couldn't hide the smug look in his eyes.

For the past two weeks, he'd been coming home later and later.

I didn't ask, and he didn't bother to explain.

We were like two strangers living under the same roof.

Back then, if he was even half an hour late, I'd always ask if he'd eaten or if he wanted me to save him some dinner.

Now, I didn't do that anymore.

If he didn't come home, I'd just go to bed by myself.

If he came home late, I wouldn't even bother getting up.

The first day, he didn't think much of it.

On the third day, he came home at one in the morning and called out to me from the bedroom doorway.

"Emily," he called out.

I blinked awake, still groggy. "What's up?"

"Why isn't there anything to eat?"

I glanced at the clock. "There's food in the fridge."

"I mean something that's already cooked."

I was wide awake now.

"I ate at seven."

He frowned. "Didn't you always save me dinner before?"

I looked at him for a few seconds, and honestly, I found it kind of laughable.

"You used to let me know if you were coming home or not," I said. "Now you don't say anything, so why should I wait for you?"

James's face darkened.

He turned around and walked out without another word.

A moment later, I could hear him rummaging through the kitchen cabinets.

Just like before, after James started his business, it was always the same.

He'd always say he was busy.

So everything at home fell on me.

I was the one making breakfast.

I ironed his shirts.

Whenever he had to meet clients, I was the one picking out the gifts.

No matter how late he came home, even if it was the middle of the night, I'd still drag myself out of bed to cook him a bowl of pasta.

Later, when the company took off, people always said he was full of energy, that in five years of running his business, he never once got distracted by family stuff.

Back then, hearing that actually made me feel proud.

But looking back now, of course he never had to worry about any of it, because I was the one shouldering it all for him.

I lay back down.

I heard a loud bang from the kitchen.

It sounded like a pot hit the floor.

I rolled over and didn't bother.