Chapter One 

I decided to put my sister’s name on the marriage license. 

This time, I’d give Jason what he wanted. 

This time, I’d be the one to dress my sister in the wedding gown, the one to place the engagement ring on her finger. 

I’d engineer every encounter between them. 

When he took her to New York City, I’d head south to the University of Miami without a word. 

Because in my past life, even when I was over fifty, he and our son were still begging me for a divorce. 

Begging me to finalize his relationship with my sister. 

Reborn, all I wanted was to spread my wings and leave romance behind. 

“Just fill out your name and give it to me.” 

Jason tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. 

I stared at the marriage license, my fingertips tracing the rough edges of the paper, lost in thought. 

In my past life, I’d filled in my own name like it was a sacred decree, then excitedly dragged Jason to buy wedding favors. 

Only to be met with a barrage of insults because he was rushing back to make ginger tea for Kate, who had her period. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I mumbled, feigning indifference. 

I glanced up at his anxious expression, his eyes constantly flicking to his watch. 

He was wearing a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms. 

Kate loved him dressed like this. She said he looked clean–cut and fresh, 

“If you’re busy, go ahead,” I said, forcing a casual tone, pushing down the bitterness rising in my throat. “I’ll hand it in when I’m done.” 

He visibly relaxed, his voice softening. 

“Don’t worry, we’re getting married. I’ll take care of you.” 

“But please don’t be jealous of Kate anymore. It’s bad for her reputation If people find out.” 

I remained silent. In my past life, I’d explained countless times. 

But in his eyes, I was just a jealous and petty older sister. 

10:47 am P 

But in his eyes, I was just a jealous and petty older sister. 

Unable to tolerate her gentle and kind younger sibling. 

He didn’t say anything else, just turned and hurried away. 

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, but my mind replayed the scenes of my past life. 

Our wedding night, he spent the entire night with Kate, claiming she was sick. He only took Kate with him when he was stationed in New York, saying she’d never been there before. 

Even on the day our son was born, Jason was too busy comforting a heartbroken Kate after her divorce to be present. 

Then, just before I died, our son was whispering in my ear: 

“Mom, just divorce Dad. You’re not as good as Aunt Kate in any way.” 

“Dad’s been miserable with you for so long. Just let him go.” 

I looked at my indifferent husband on the hospital bed. He remained silent. 

That deathly silence was all the confirmation I needed. 

I bit my lip hard, until I tasted blood, then slowly released it. 

No. Not this time. I wouldn’t make the same mistakes. 

1 picked up the pen and slowly wrote two words in the applicant section: 

Kate Miller. 

Jason, if you loved her so much, you could have her. 

1 handed the completed application to the clerk, took the marriage certificate, and turned to leave the registry office. 

I felt no sadness, only an indescribable sense of relief.