Ex-Wife's Revenge: I Marry My Best Friend

Inside the car, it was so quiet that only the faint sound of the air conditioning could be heard.

Calvin didn't immediately start driving. Instead, he cocked his head to the side to level me with an intent look.

"My dear 'bestie', I certainly won't allow myself to be used as your shield for nothing. Are you really sure about this?"

There was a teasing note to his voice, along with a barely perceptible hint of concern.

I bowed my head, my fingers idly brushing against the bracelet on my wrist. It had been the only thing Mom left for me, and when it pressed against my skin, it was almost like she was right there by my side, silently comforting me.

"I suffered a horrible defeat and lost everything in my previous life," I murmured. "In this life, I intend to take back everything that belongs to me, and not a single thing less."

Hearing that, Calvin didn't press further and drove me back to his place to rest. 20 years of friendship had given him a deeper understanding of my stubbornness and pain than even I had of myself.

The next day, instead of heading for my studio first thing in the morning, I returned to the villa that was supposed to be my marital home with Timothy. There were certain items that I needed to personally take back myself.

The motion-sensor light in the foyer turned on automatically, and I detected the faint scent of a woman's perfume lingering in the air. Besides that, a woman's coat that wasn't mine had been tossed casually over the living room couch, while a half-drunk glass of red wine sat atop the coffee table, a vibrant red lipstick stain on the rim.

I didn't allow my gaze to stray as I made a beeline straight for my small workshop on the second floor. My personal restoration tools, the design drafts Mom had left for me, and some personal items—all these were the reason I had to come back myself.

I had barely closed the last box when the master bedroom's door swung open.

Selina stepped out, dressed only in a loose white men's shirt that barely covered her backside. From the sizing, I could immediately tell that it was Timothy's.

Her demeanor was that of the mistress of the house, and when her eyes swept across my packed luggage, her lips curved into a victorious smile.

"Oh, Rose. Where are you going?"

She waved her hand, a small but intricately designed brooch clenched between her fingers.

That was the brooch I had designed and gifted to Timothy before we married to commemorate our first date. I used to think that it would bear witness to our eternal love.

"Tim said that this design is just too childish and doesn't suit his current status." Despite her gentle and soft tone, it was as though her every single word had been dipped in poison. "So, as his best female friend, he gave it to me and told me that I could toy around with the design if I wanted."

I simply stared at her, not feeling even a single stir of emotion.

She had been the same in my past life, using her "girl-bro" identity to hurt me time and again.

Walking forward, I reached a hand out toward her.

Selina, thinking that I wanted to snatch the brooch from her, instinctively clutched it tighter and put on an aggrieved look.

"Rose, don't be like that. I know that you can't bear to part—"

"Give it to me," I interrupted her calmly.

When she noticed my reaction, she assumed that she had achieved her intended goal and placed the brooch in my palm.

Once I had it, I gripped it with both hands, exerted force, and as she watched, the brooch snapped with a soft crack.

I then said impassively, "Trash belongs in the trash bin."

Immediately, all the color drained from Selina's face.

I picked up my luggage and moved to walk past her, stopping right as I was beside her. Twisting my head to face Selina, I then uttered in a volume that only the two of us could hear, "Timothy gave you this perfume you're wearing, didn't he? You might not know this, but this perfume is called 'First Meeting' and was my favorite scent when I was 18."

From our proximity, I could clearly see her pupils contract sharply.

I quirked my lips into a smirk and added, "So tell me, what do you think he's treating you as?"

I didn't wait to see her reaction. I turned and walked away, not even bothering to look back when the sound of something crashing to the floor and shattering echoed behind me.

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