Reborn After Death, Now My Cheating Husband Regretted Everything

The next morning, the butler quietly approached and said, “Miss, it’s time.”

Samira had gone numb from sitting all night. It took her a few seconds to even register his words. When she finally tried to stand, her legs buckled underneath her. She would’ve hit the floor if the butler hadn’t caught her just in time.

It took almost ten minutes before she could manage to stand properly, leaning against the butler for support as they made their way out. Even walking to the front door felt like a marathon.

When they finally got there, the butler asked gently, “Should I have a car ready for you?”

Samira didn’t hesitate. “Yes, thank you.” Then she added, almost as an afterthought, “You don’t need to call me ‘Miss’ anymore.”

She didn’t plan on coming back. Not ever.

The butler froze, a little caught off guard by that. Before he could say anything, a familiar voice spoke up from behind them. “No need to call a car. I’ll take her.”

Jean. Samira turned, surprised to see him. She hadn’t really believed he would show. But there he was, walking up without a word and lifting her into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. He carried her to the car and gently settled her into the passenger seat.

She didn’t speak the entire ride.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, expression calm, almost distant. But inside, her mind was busy, already thinking about what she needed to do next, what came after this chapter of her life.

Jean kept glancing at her, uneasy. It wasn’t like her to be this quiet. Usually, she would have said something by now, joked, chatted, anything. But now, nothing. Just silence.

He thought maybe she just needed time. But by the time they were nearly home, she still hadn’t said a word and it was starting to eat at him.

Finally, he caved. “Samira… are you thirsty? There’s water in the glovebox.”

She gave a soft “Mm,” but didn’t move or respond beyond that.

Jean wanted to say more, but just then, they pulled up to the house. Before he could even react, Samira had already opened the door and slowly started to make her way inside, limping slightly.

Jean rushed out, caught up to her and without asking, lifted her again. She didn’t fight him, just let him carry her in and lower her onto the couch.

Still, she said nothing. And Jean couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted for good.

Jean crouched down and gently lifted the hem of her pants. The motion tugged at the wound and Samira winced, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Ah, sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, visibly flustered. “I’ll be more careful.”

As the scrape came into full view, his expression tightened. Something about seeing it; red, raw, clearly painful, hit him harder than he expected. He didn’t say anything though. Just pulled out the medicine and got to work.

Samira looked down at him in silence. For a moment, her mind drifted. She remembered being little, tripping in the yard, knees all scraped up. Jean had helped her then too, crouched just like this, dabbing ointment and blowing softly to ease the sting.

The sound of a ringtone pulled her out of the memory. Jean glanced at the phone, then stiffened. He gripped it like he was bracing for something. “Samira… I need to take this call, okay?”

In his rush, the cotton swab pressed a little too hard. Samira gasped again, her fingers tightening around the cushion beside her. She lifted her eyes and caught a glimpse of the screen. Luna.

Of course it was.

She didn’t say anything. Just slowly stood up and started making her way to the stairs. Her legs felt like lead, but she didn’t want to sit around listening to him take her call.

She took one careful step at a time. Halfway up, Jean passed her, completely ignoring her struggling up the stairs and disappeared into the study. A minute later, he burst back out with a small bottle in hand.

Samira recognized it. A rare ointment. Powerful stuff. For a second, she thought… maybe it was for her.

But then Jean brushed right past her without so much as a glance. His shoulder bumped her, hitting her already sore knee.

Pain shot through her like lightning. Her leg buckled and she fell. “Ah!”

She hit the ground hard, knees taking the brunt of it. Her vision went white at the edges, ears buzzing like static. For a second, she couldn’t even feel her legs.

Then, through the ringing, she felt a pair of arms around her. Jean’s voice, anxious and breathless, broke through. “Samira? Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

But she couldn’t answer. The pain had swallowed everything else. Jean looked flustered as he bent down to pick her up.

But before he could, his phone rang again. He glanced at it and the second he answered, Luna’s voice came through, sharp and whiny. “Jean, where are you? My knees really hurt… I can’t take it anymore.”

And in that moment, Samira understood. So that was who the medicine was for. Not her. He didn’t bring it for her. He never even thought to.