I moved around the kitchen like I always did, preparing Jake’s breakfast as if nothing had changed. As if my world hadn’t crumbled days ago. As if I didn’t know the truth.
Jake walked in, adjusting his tie, looking like the perfect husband. He sat down at the dining table, sipping the coffee I made for him.
"I have a business trip today and will be away for a few days," he said casually, picking up a piece of toast.
I nodded, pretending not to care. I never asked where he was going anymore because I thought he’s just at work as always but I already knew. He was going to see Clarissa. Those ‘Business trips’ are just a front.
He had been feeding me lies for years, and I had swallowed every single one of them. But not anymore.
Jake’s mother, Eleanor, had always made it clear that she wanted Clarissa as her daughter-in-law in every party that I attended and pretended to be Jake’s secretary. I had known for a long time, but I hadn’t expected just how deep the betrayal ran.
Jake and Clarissa had already married behind my back.
I clenched the knife in my hand for a second before forcing myself to set it down gently. It all made sense now why Eleanor had suddenly become so affectionate toward Clarissa one time, why Jake always had an excuse to leave, why he never once let me meet his business partners.
Because I wasn’t his wife. Not even once in his eyes. As Jake finished his breakfast and left, I made a decision. I would follow him.
I trailed his car carefully, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. I had prepared myself for what I might find. But nothing could have prepared me for the reality.
The venue was grand, decorated with golden chandeliers and fresh white roses. The kind of place people rented for life-changing celebrations.
And there he was. Jake. Standing next to Clarissa, dressed in an expensive suit, his arm wrapped around her waist.
The banner above them read:
"Congratulations on Your Engagement, Jake & Clarissa!"
For a moment, my mind went blank.
I had thought I hated him enough not to feel anything anymore. But when I saw the way he smiled at her—the way his happiness looked effortless, natural, something inside me cracked.
Pain. Deep, raw, suffocating.
I had loved him. Despite everything, I had loved him. And now, I stood here, watching him celebrate his future with another woman while I had wasted years being his fool.
Anger surged through me, thick and consuming. They had made a fool out of me. Over and over again. I turned to leave, but someone stepped in my way.
Harry Clinton, again. His face was unreadable as he looked at me. Then, he sighed. "It seems that you already know about your husband and Clarrisa."
I forced a bitter smile. "I had to see it for myself to make sure. So that I won’t regret or think of giving him a second chance." I snorted. “Why would I need to give him a chance again, Jake and I were not even married to begin with.
Harry shook his head. "I told him to tell you the truth. To stop playing this sick game. But he refused. He wanted to keep you in the dark, to keep making a fool of you."
A sharp pang of humiliation twisted in my chest. "And you knew all along?"
He didn’t flinch. "Yes. But I thought he’d eventually do the right thing. He didn’t. But even if I told you, you won’t believe me anyway."
He exhaled, his expression shifting into something colder. "But my friendship with him is now long gone. I won’t support him anymore and whatever friendship we had ends today."
His words struck something deep inside me. Jake had lost someone loyal to him because of his cruelty. Good.
I thought back to the phone call at this time, 3 years before I died and regressed, Harry had called me and warned me to leave Jake. I ignored him, told him to stop bothering me. I had clung to the illusion of love, refusing to see the truth.
But not anymore.
"I’m leaving him soon," I said, my voice steady. For the first time, the words didn’t feel impossible. They felt right.
Harry studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Good. You deserve better, Lindsay." After a few seconds of silence, he hesitated before continuing. "I have an offer for you."
I frowned. "An offer?"
"A job," he clarified. "I need a nanny for my son." A son. Does Harry Clinton have a son? I never knew he had a son, not even before I died.
I blinked at him, caught off guard. "You have a son and you want me to be your babysitter?"
"I want to help you," he said simply. "You’ll need a job when you leave Jake. You’ll need a fresh start. I can give you that. I can give you more."
I stared at him, my emotions a tangled mess. A fresh start. A way out. I had been trapped in Jake’s web for years, drowning in my own pain.
But maybe, just maybe, this was my chance to finally escape. I took a deep breath. Is this it? Is this the escape I needed?
“But let me correct you, not only as a babysitter, but also his mother and my wife. I’ll provide you the things that Jake didn’t offer you. Even if revenge, I will offer it to you,”
