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560words2026-01-26 09:05

My husband, Edward Langley, who studyed abroad, found me dull and utterly vulgar.
To give his true lover, Sophia Bennett, a respectable status, he strangled me to death with a rope.
After my death, he spread vicious rumors, claiming I’d seduced other men, feuded with in-laws, and deserved to die.

He and his beloved lived happily ever after,their story hailed as a romantic legend.
When I opened my eyes again,I was back a decade earlier.
In this life, I hid the money meant for my husband and boarded a ship to study overseas myself.
Years later, I returned to be a graduate from abroad.
My husband begged me through tears to take him back.
“Sophia is just like a sister to me. Don’t overthink it.”

The phantom pain of a rope tightening around my neck lingered as I blinked back to reality.
Edward frowned when I didn’t respond.
“Indeed I grew up with her, but I’ve never had romantic feelings for her. Why do you keep making a fuss over this?”
My eyes flickered as my mind snapped into focus.

His words sparked a bitter laugh inside me.
Sophia Bennett was Edward’s childhood sweetheart.He married me for my substantial dowry,claiming it was a“practical arrangement.”
All along, they’d flirted behind my back.
I’d believed his lies once. That trust cost me my life.
Only now did I see how laughably naive I’d been.
“Do siblings openly embrace like that?”
Edward froze,clearly unprepared for my defiance.
His face flushed,and before he could respond,my mother-in-law,Margaret Langley,who’d been eavesdropping outside,stormed in.
“My son is blessed!Plenty of women adore him!”
“A fine man like him having a few close confidantes—what’s wrong with that?Who are you to act so high and mighty?”
Without hesitation, I smirked. "Oh, he’s ‘blessed’ alright."
"Or do you still wish men could have three wives and four concubines?"
Of course having concubines in this age would be bigamy—a crime.
Margaret’s face turned from pale to red,trembling with rage.
“I’m your elder! Show respect!”
“Respect is earned.What kind of elder are you?”
I’d finally spoken these words in my heart for too long.
Margaret lunged forward,slapping me hard across the face.
I couldn’t dodge in time,and a red mark bloomed on my cheek.
My cheek burned, copper flooding my tongue. I didn’t flinch.
I covered my face and said calmly, “Edward, We’re getting divorced.”
He’d watched silently as Margaret attacked me,as he always did.
This wasn’t the first time.
Each time,he’d play the caring husband.
“Mother means well. ‘Strictness shows love.’"
“Filial duty is paramount. As my wife, you must obey my parents.”
In truth,he stood on a moral pedestal,manipulating me with honeyed words.
This time,I’d drag him down.
Now, his hands trembled—with rage or hope, I couldn’t tell.
“You’d divorce me over something so trivial?”
I once loved his handsome face. Now, all I saw was a terrifying mask hiding a rotten core.
Margaret switched tactics, simpering, "Dear Grace,, forgive me. You and Edward are young, with so much life ahead. Don’t be rash.”
I responded with silence as every past humiliation flashed before me.
This time, I’d stood for myself.
“I’ve made up my mind. The divorce is happening."
They fell silent. After a moment, Margaret sneered, “Fine, as you wish. But the dowry won't be returned.”
I wasn’t surprised.Shamelessness was her hallmark.
“The courts will decide it,” I replied.