His Regret, Her Name, My freedom

The truth was, Delia was merely stringing Jasper along. He was only a captain back then, and she was holding out for a better prospect.

I stopped by the University of Seattle to inquire about enrollment requirements and living costs.

Only then did I head home, a weight lifted from my shoulders.

When I arrived at Jasper’s apartment, Delia’s sickeningly sweet voice drifted from inside the moment I opened the door. "Jasper, you didn't stay with Isabel and came back to be with me instead. Won't she be mad?"

"I can be with her anytime. But you always have such painful periods, I couldn't rest easy leaving you here alone."

Delia’s happy laugh followed, quickly replaced by a feigned grievance. "Jasper, after you marry Isabel, will you still be this nice to me?"

"Of course," Jasper’s tone was firm. "Who else would I be nice to? If Isabel is ever mean to you, I'll divorce her!"

My hands balled into fists as I fought back the acidic knot in my stomach. Even in this new life, it still stung to hear my own husband speak of me so coldly.

Composing myself, I walked into the apartment as if nothing were amiss.

Jasper emerged from Delia's room, a trace of embarrassment on his face. "I… I saw Delia wasn't feeling well, so I came to check on her."

I offered a faint "Mm" and turned toward my room. In my last life, I had fought with him endlessly over their inappropriate closeness. This time, I wouldn't waste the time or the energy.

He called out to me. "Isabel, let's go buy some candy to give to the neighbors to celebrate."

I shot him a surprised look, realizing this was likely his attempt to compensate for my unusual quietness. "There's no need. We don't have to bother with formalities like that."

He looked stunned, probably finding it hard to believe I would turn down such a gesture.

"Isabel, are you mad because Jasper was taking care of me?" Delia stepped out of her room, her expression a perfect mask of innocence and hurt.

She was wearing the dress I had bought for our wedding photos—the one I’d saved for half a year to buy in my past life, only to never wear it myself.

My gaze fell on the dress, and Delia quickly explained, "I saw this by your bed today and thought it was pretty, so I wanted to try it on. I forgot to change out of it." She lowered her head, wringing her hands like a guilty child.

Jasper instinctively began, "Isabel, don't—"

I cut him off calmly. "It looks good on you. You can have it. I've never worn it anyway."

I could still recall the faint scent of blood and sweat on that fabric, the memory of running home crying in the middle of the night. The mere thought of it now made me sick.

As they both stared in astonishment, I returned to my room and locked the door. I pulled out a folder. Inside was the acceptance letter from the University of Seattle.

In my past life, I had yearned for a life in Seattle, especially since the university had the finance and economics program I dreamed of.

I had given up my studies to support Jasper, willingly staying home to care for his parents. This time, that chance wasn't gone. I was going to live for myself.

I glanced at the calendar. I only had ten days left before I could leave this place. Time was short; every second had to count.

A sharp knock at the door shattered my train of thought.

I opened it impatiently.

Jasper stood there holding a bowl of noodles, his tone gentle. "You must be hungry. I made you some instant noodles."

For a moment, I was stunned. In my last life, he had only ever been cold as ice or spoken to me with harsh words.