Divorce Day Reset: My Wife Back at Seventeen

"From this moment on, I'll give 27-year-old Liliana three chances," I said.

And after the three chances were used up, I would also keep my promise to leave Liliana forever. I would make sure she never found me.

I drew in a deep breath and pushed open the door to the private room. Liliana was the first to rush over. She leaned tenderly against my shoulder, the hard-edged, decisive businesswoman suddenly acting all soft and cute with me.

"Babe, you're finally here. I've been waiting forever," she said.

"Simon, if you'd come any later, Lili would've turned into a statue staring off into the distance while searching for you," one of her friends joked.

"Sit, Simon. Lili has already cut the steak for you."

One after another, Liliana's girlfriends chimed in, painting this picture of how deeply she loved me.

Love did need to be spoken aloud, but it never needed outsiders to prove it. That was something 17-year-old Liliana had taught me. Somewhere along the way, at 27, she'd forgotten that.

I smiled bitterly and followed the gaze that was practically burning a hole in me. That was when I saw him in the crowd—Maurice.

He had a boyishly innocent face, but his body was surprisingly well-built. He definitely had what it took to attract Liliana.

When our eyes met, he deliberately flicked his gaze down at Liliana's belly before standing up. Then, he raised his glass, open provocation shining in his eyes.

"So, this is Simon. It's our first meeting—I hope you'll do me the honor of drinking with me," he said, emphasizing "first meeting".

After all, he'd already sent me countless videos and photos of him and Liliana wrapped around each other. Those images had stabbed over and over into my heart like needles. The only difference now was that he and Liliana were both fully clothed.

Liliana's expression changed drastically as Maurice held the drink out to me. She stepped in front of me, saying coldly, "My husband doesn't like alcohol."

Her blatant attempt to shield me didn't upset Maurice. If anything, his smile only widened. "What are you so nervous about?"

He switched to Orinian, giving me a slow once-over as he spoke. "I'm just toasting Simon. That shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"Yeah, Lili," one of Liliana's girlfriends chimed in. "You're enjoying the best of both worlds now. Simon doesn't understand what we're saying anyway. Just make something up and give him a reason to take a drink…"

I couldn't understand what they were saying, but the mocking looks they tossed my way made their malice crystal clear.

Liliana instinctively wanted to refuse again, but under the weight of all those expectant stares, the swell of pride in her chest made her hesitate. A flicker of struggle passed through her eyes before she turned to me. She began, "Babe, how about you just—"

I cut her off. "Do you want me to drink?"

The 17-year-old version of Liliana looked anxious as she cried, "Si, you're allergic to alcohol. You can't drink!"

But the 27-year-old version of Liliana nodded after a brief moment of hesitation.

I smiled, raised my glass in the direction of the 17-year-old only I could see. "This is the first time."

The liquid slid down my throat with a faint bitterness that burned so sharply that it almost brought tears to my eyes. In 17-year-old Liliana's eyes, anxiety crumbled into raw heartache, then turned to a deep, unbearable guilt.

The 27-year-old version of Liliana didn't understand what "the first time" really meant. She just wrapped her arms around me tenderly. "Babe, I promise that this is the first and last time you'll ever drink."

I lowered my gaze.