Chapter 1

It had been barely a week since my sister's funeral when my brother-in-law casually picked up my niece's toy diamond ring and proposed to me.

I turned to my mom. "Did that come free with the funeral wreath?"

My mom grabbed my hand and pushed it toward his.

"You're twenty-nine already. If your sister hadn't died and left Ivy without a mother, would a rich family like the Campbells ever look twice at you? Just settle and make it work."

My niece clutched the hem of my skirt too, and spoke hesitantly, "Auntie, when I grow up, I'll take good care of you, I promise. Please don't think of me as a burden, okay?"

I looked at her little hand and felt nothing at all.

It had gone exactly like this in my past life.

Back then, I'd looked at the poor father and daughter and nodded yes.

After the wedding, he gave me money every month and told everyone how little trouble I was. We had twenty years of quiet, stable life.

Until he fell gravely ill and, with the sudden strength of a dying man's last rally, shoved me hard away.

Clutching my sister's memorial photo, his eyes full of hatred, he accused me.

"What disgusts me most is that your sister wasn't even cold in her grave, and you couldn't wait to marry me for my money! You're worse than her in every way, and you took her place. Even having you sleep next to me made me feel dirty."

My niece, whom I'd raised from childhood, was glared at me resentfully.

"Dad, from now on it'll just be you and Mom buried together. As for this woman, I have nothing to do with her."

He finally smiled, then turned to give me one last instruction.

"In the next life, stay away from me. I really don't want to settle again."

He didn't want to settle. Did he think I did?

So in this life, I pulled my hand back.

…

"Mom, I'm not getting married. I want to live on my own."

"You’re playing hard to get? Look at you. You think anyone's going to come begging at your door?!"

Mom's voice shot up as her nails digging into my flesh, making my wrist throb.

I looked at her agitated face and felt only tired.

"Mom, I never said I wanted to marry someone better. I just don't want to get married."

"Don't want to get married?"

The relatives sitting in the living room all looked over.

My brother-in-law, Martin Campbell, tossed the plastic toy ring onto the table. Then he stood, picked up his daughter, and retreated to a corner, his gaze remained cold and unreadable.

My seven-year-old niece, Ivy Campbell, rested her head on his shoulder, peeking at me timidly.

My aunt, Linda Porter, sidled over holding her teacup.

"Martin's worth over ten million dollars. You won't lose a thing, marrying into the Campbell family."

"And Ivy needs someone to look after her. You're her own aunt. Why let some outsider have that spot?"

She said it like it was obvious, as if I should be grateful for the match.

I tightened my grip on my bag.

"Clearly, the Campbells are out of my league. Besides, I really don't want to get married."

"Then what about Ivy?"

Mom's eyes were brimming with tears.

"Your sister's funeral was barely a week ago, and the child is only seven. She can't go without a mother, can she?"

"Martin runs such a big company and has a child to raise on top of it. Can you really stand by and watch?"

I felt my throat tightened.

I'd heard all of this in my past life too.

In the end, I'd softened and given in, closed my studio, and married him.

Married life really had been as stable as Mom promised.

Martin gave me $10,000 a month for household expenses, and I gave up my entire social life to focus on raising Ivy. School drop-offs and pickups, homework help, three meals a day. My days revolved entirely around her.

In public, he praised me for being sensible, but at home he was cold and distant, never saying one word more than he had to. He kept his guard up around me, convinced I'd only slipped in at a vulnerable moment because I wanted his money.

I thought that was just what a practical marriage of convenience was supposed to look like.

Until twenty years later, when he lay in a hospital bed and told me how disgusting it was to be married to me.

He was cursing me for rushing into his bed while my sister was barely cold in her grave. He called me worse than my sister in every way and said even sleeping next to me made him feel dirty. And finally he warned me to stay away from him in the next life, that he didn't want to settle again.

I stood by his bed and listened to him to the very end, feeling nothing but numbness.

Twenty whole years of marriage, more than seven thousand days and nights, and in his eyes it had all been nothing but a scheme and a compromise.