Married to a Mr. Nice Guy

"Olivia is really capable," Riley said.

In my previous life, I used to think she was genuinely complimenting me, but now I realized she had always treated me like a pack mule. She had an inexplicable tendency to single me out.

Since I didn't immediately agree, she assumed I was unwilling to help, that I looked down on her mother.

"What do you mean? My mom is your mother-in-law. You wanted her to help with the kids before, and now that she's sick, you don't care at all?"

I remembered her words perfectly. "If it's a son, I'll look after him. If it's not, don't even think of asking me," she had said.

"Exactly, Olivia. We have a responsibility as her children," Samuel added.

The two of them echoed each other, and I nodded in agreement.

Charlotte suffered from severe dementia.

When Charlotte was lucid, she caused trouble constantly, but she never targeted Samuel. While I was pregnant, she even struck my stomach. She screamed nonstop whenever Samuel was at work. After I gave birth to Luna, she kept waking her repeatedly, only stopping when Samuel came home.

As I looked into her cloudy eyes, I felt the same hatred as if staring at an enemy. Luna's death had haunted me for years.

I went along with bringing her over, but only as a pretext to serve my own purposes.

Samuel gave me full control of the money, knowing I was too modest to spend it freely. I often used my pre-marriage savings to cover daily expenses while his money remained untouched.

Now, I no longer cared.

I ensured Charlotte received a constant supply of nutritious meals. Samuel watched with pity but stayed silent since the food was for his mother. I had no intention of giving her a genuinely comfortable life.

During the day, I kept her locked in her room, uncaring whether she lived or died, and only let her out when Samuel came home. Her lucid moments were few, and she could barely communicate.

Just as in my past life, Samuel had no idea of her antics at home, the screaming and chaos. This time, he also didn't know that the nutritious meals were going to me, while Charlotte spent the day locked in a room.

Having Charlotte in my home also gave Riley a convenient excuse to visit often. This apartment had been fully paid for by my parents before my marriage, and Riley treated it like her own home. Her four-year-old son bounced around like a flea.

Riley claimed she was there to spend time with her mother, but in reality, she was just freeloading, expecting me to wait on her.

I cooked up a five-course vegetable meal, and somehow three of the dishes featured pumpkin. Creamy pumpkin soup, roasted pumpkin with herbs, and a pumpkin gratin—all made from just one pumpkin.

"I finally brought my child to have a meal with mom, and you expect me to eat this?" she asked.

"If you don't like it, you don't have to eat," I replied.

After a while, she found another reason to cause trouble. She sat like a spoiled child, insisting I feed her kid.

When he refused after a few bites, I stopped. She sneered, asking what I would do when my own child was born.

I said, "Even a dog can feed itself. Your child is old enough to eat alone. Don't worry about mine. You should worry more about how he'll manage in the future."

Charlotte suddenly sprang at me, screaming insults and hitting me, while Riley laughed uncontrollably beside her. Then she turned on Riley, slapping her and calling her a good-for-nothing.

When Samuel rushed over to intervene, he got slapped twice. Riley's long nails left a deep scratch on his neck, and she panicked, pulling at his shirt to check the wound.

I frowned, watching the chaos. She cupped her brother's face in concern, asking how he had gotten hurt.

Though they were siblings, their relationship felt far too intimate and undefined to me.

I had noticed it in my previous life. When I mentioned it, I was criticized for being an only child who didn't understand sibling bonds.

But in this second life, certain subtle details still struck me as strange.