Chapter 4

James found out about it pretty fast. He came home with dark circles under his eyes, and I was just quietly eating dinner. The moment he walked in, he grabbed my chin.

"New strategy, Olivia?" he hissed. "You hurt Emily, then turn around and tell the world you're over me? You're just dying to get me into bed, aren't you? Why the theatrics? Is sleeping with you the only way you'll leave Emily in peace?"

As soon as he finished, James pressed his lips against mine, his kiss scorching hot. He forced his way past my teeth, taking over with a rough, unstoppable intensity.

I'd actually forgotten how long it had been since we'd been this intimate. But weirdly enough, I didn't feel a single spark.

Right—I'd almost forgotten. The system had wiped out all my feelings for James.

James' touch grew rougher. The strange thing was, the more I used to crave this, the more it made me sick now.

Maybe it was a side effect from the system erasing my feelings; I was nowhere near as strong as James. I fought him for ages, but it was pointless. Did he ever stop to think—if I couldn't even push him off me, how could I have possibly shoved Emily so hard?

I bit down hard on his lower lip until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. James recoiled in pain, staring at me in total disbelief. "Olivia, have you lost your mind?"

Maybe I had. I'd have lost my mind to have loved a man like him.

I shot James a cold look. "Don't touch me. You're disgusting."

I wasn't being jealous. I just couldn't stand the thought of those hands and lips that had spent the night tending to Emily. Besides, when love was dead, calling it quits was the only dignified way out.

James clenched his jaw, his voice tight with anger. "You're really committed to this 'you don't love me' act, aren't you? Fine. Let's see how long you can keep this up."

He slammed the door with a deafening bang and vanished.

In the past, I would have done anything to make him stay. Now, I couldn't wait to push him out the door. So this was what it felt like to finally fall out of love.

As I packed up my things, it felt like everywhere I looked, I could see traces of my old self—humble and submissive.

I remembered sitting in the living room, barefoot, waiting for James from dawn until dusk. I remembered the thrill of going to the market to buy the freshest ingredients just because he'd texted saying he'd be home for dinner. I had poured my heart and soul into a feast, only to open Instagram and see him sitting across from Emily at a candlelit romantic bistro.

The red flags had been piling up for years. I could have walked away from this world long ago, yet I had stayed, enduring it year after year. Now that the love was gone, it felt like a massive weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

When I got back to my old studio apartment, I turned on the TV and saw James putting on a massive fireworks show for Emily, lighting up the whole city in a public display of love.

The internet was flooded with people swooning over them, conveniently forgetting that James was still a married man. A few people remembered, but they all knew I was the only one chasing after James. They messaged me to tell me to know my place and get out of the way. They said the one who wasn't loved was the real interloper.

I ignored them all. I was unfazed.

The next day, James texted me: [If you apologize to Emily and me right now, maybe I'll let it slide and you can save a little face. What do you say? Ready to drop the act yet?]

Even now, he was convinced my indifference was just a ploy. I didn't even have the energy to explain the truth to him—after all, he had never believed a word I said anyway.

I had no intention of getting tangled up with James anymore. I locked my screen and threw myself into my work.

Back when I was helping James get back on his feet, I had completely neglected my own family's business. My poor father, at his age, was still holding down the fort all by himself.

In the real world, I had no family, no one who cared about me, and not a dime to my name. I suddenly realized why I had been sent into this book. It wasn't just to get bogged down in some trite romance.

My father was overjoyed to see the change in me. Working around the clock actually made me feel fulfilled.

It took two weeks of me ignoring his texts and staying completely unfazed by his public displays of affection for James to finally lose his cool. He showed up at my office, dragging Emily along with him.

"I have to hand it to you, Olivia—you've got nerves of steel," he sneered. "Let's see how long you can keep up this little charade."

With that, he pulled Emily in and started kissing her passionately right in front of me.

He was truly pathetic. When I loved him, he couldn't stand the sight of me, but now that I was over him, he was desperate to find any shred of evidence that I still cared.

They were all over each other, but James kept sneaking glances at me, checking my reaction. The scene didn't bother me in the slightest. I just kept my head down and focused on my work.

Assuming I simply couldn't bear to watch, James finally let go of Emily, looking quite pleased with himself. "Olivia, if you admit you were wrong right now, maybe I'll think about getting back together with you," he said smugly.

Hearing that, I suddenly remembered how I used to beg James, so hopelessly. I had asked him, "If I stop coming between you and Emily, can we just stay together? I just... I just want a little of your attention."

Back then, the look of pure disgust on his face had felt like a slap. He had told me, coldly, "Olivia, you really make me sick."

And now, here he was, offering me a "happy marriage" as if he were handing out charity.

I just snorted, "Door's on your left, James. Honestly, you're revolting."