Reborn After Death, Now My Cheating Husband Regretted Everything

Samira didn’t get up right away. She just lay there for a moment, then let out a low laugh. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, more like the kind that slips out when you realize how foolish you’ve been.

‘Who am I kidding? I can’t even protect myself, how can I possibly protect a kitten?’ Eventually, she pushed herself off the ground and dusted off her clothes. Her movements were slow and clumsy. She didn’t look back as she walked away.

Behind her, one of the security guards muttered, “She looks nice, but turns out she’s the type to abuse animals…”

She had heard that before. A lot, actually, especially when she was younger. Back then, it was a label people stuck on her without thinking and it followed her around like a shadow. She was even bullied because of it.

When her family confronted her about it, she hadn’t cared much what her parents thought. What mattered most was Jean.

She just wanted him to believe her. But when she looked at him, back then and now, his eyes always held that same look of disgust. Cold. Judging. Like he had already made up his mind.

When she got home, she went straight to the closet, pulled out a big cardboard box and started packing.

All the things Jean had given her over the years; little trinkets, notes, gifts from birthdays or holidays. She had kept them all in perfect shape, even after everything. But now, she tossed them into the box one after another, like they were junk.

There was more than she realized. She kept at it until noon, paused to eat something quick, then went right back to it.

That was when Jean came in. He noticed the box and frowned, his gaze settling on the familiar items. “Wait… what are you throwing away? Isn’t this stuff from me?”

Samira paused for a second, then shrugged and kept going. “Yeah. Just clearing things out. It’s been piling up.”

Jean stepped closer, sensing something was off. Then he reached out and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She instinctively tensed. When she tried to move, he only held her tighter.

“Samira,” he said softly, “you know how Luna gets. That cat really messed her up when we were kids. I just didn’t want her to fall apart again. That’s why I reacted like that. But I believe you. I really do.”

She stopped moving, then slowly turned around to face him. Her eyes searched his. “You really believe I didn’t do it?”

He hesitated, not long, but enough. Then he forced a smile and said, “Of course I do. You? Hurt a cat? Come on.”

But the moment had already passed. She had seen it. The flicker of doubt. The same look from all those years ago. She let out a quiet laugh and looked away.

Samira chuckled quietly to herself. Not because anything was funny, but because Jean was good. Too good.

The way he said those sweet, reassuring words like he actually meant them? If she didn’t know better, she might’ve believed him.

But she did know better. ‘So why the performance? What is the point of pretending now, when he’s already gotten what he wants?’

She gave up trying to make sense of it. Some things just weren’t worth figuring out. With a sigh, she turned back to the pile of memories and kept tossing them into the box like they were nothing.

Jean, clearly thinking the storm had passed, spoke up with an easy tone. “Your mom wants us to come by for dinner tonight.”

“Okay,” Samira said with a nod, not looking up.

But just as they were about to head out later that evening, he paused at the door. “Hey, something came up. Can you go ahead first? I’ll meet you there.”

Samira didn’t even blink. “Sure.”

He kissed her cheek like everything was fine. “My wife’s always so sweet to me.”

Once he was gone, she stayed frozen for a second, then calmly wiped her cheek with her sleeve. She could be sweet, she could be patient, but that didn’t mean she still cared.

Dinner time rolled around and she caught a cab to her parents’ house on her own. Jean still hadn’t shown up when she arrived.

Her father barely acknowledged her, just glanced over and said nothing. He had never really been warm and lately, it felt like she was just another guest to him.

Her mother, though, still had a sliver of affection left. She came over with a smile and gently took Samira’s hand. “Where’s Jean? Didn’t he come with you?”

“He had something to do,” Samira replied with a small smile. “He said he’d come later.”

Her mother nodded and gave a polite smile back, trying to come up with something to say. The conversation felt stiff. They used to be close, really close, but after Luna returned, everything changed.

The awkward silence didn’t last long. The front door opened again. Jean had arrived. And not alone. Luna walked in beside him.

So that was what his “something to do” was.

The moment her mother saw Luna, she let go of Samira’s hand without hesitation and stood up to greet Luna like she was the daughter she had always wanted.

They chatted easily, laughed, exchanged sweet words and gentle touches. Not a trace of awkwardness between them.

Samira didn’t even lift her head. She just sat there, staring at her hands. This wasn’t her home anymore. Maybe it never had been.

At dinner, the seating said it all. Jean sat next to Luna, across from her parents. Samira was at the far end, no one beside her, no one across from her. Just space.

Jean casually reached for food and placed it into Luna’s plate like it was second nature. No one flinched. No one said a word. And in that moment, it hit her. She wasn’t just alone. She didn’t even belong.