Arianna had a hidden idol from her student days that I always knew about.

She was a Cinderella from a poor family, while he was a wealthy second-generation.

The huge disparity in wealth made Arianna keep her feelings hidden, focusing solely on her studies.

Until she met me.

We were classmates at the medical school.

We all came from poor families, striving for success in our studies and careers with more effort than most, yet always remaining warm and kind.

We are like another version of each other in this world, able to understand each other's joys and sorrows completely.

I still remember her response after hearing my confession.

Wearing a clean but worn dress, she nervously and sincerely said, "I will love you all my life, and always be with you."

I believe that when she said these words, she was filled with all the love in her heart.

However, later on, her teenage crush reappeared in her life with a broken and fragile image due to his family's downfall, shattering the insurmountable barrier between her and him.

The faint smell of tobacco mixed with the scent of disinfectant...

More overtime work and missed appointments than before...

Her sudden proposal to sleep in separate rooms, and the frequent impatience she showed towards me and our son.

Many such subtle changes indicated that our marriage was on the brink of collapse.

But I trusted her too much.

So much so that when I discovered the truth, there was less than ten thousand dollars left in our household account.

Nearly a million dollars had vanished without a trace.

Both of us came from poor families and understood better than anyone what money meant.

A million bucks is no trust fund for some rich folks, or no yearly cost for some spoiled brat studying overseas, or no big tip to make some internet star grin.

It means some security for our parents' health.

It means returning to the village in a car for Christmas, bringing pride to both families.

It means that our younger siblings can choose their favorite majors in college without worrying about tuition fees.

It means that we can lend a hand when childhood friends in the village suddenly need money urgently.

We both came from poor families, carrying heavy burdens.

Even spending five thousand dollars frivolously would require long consideration, let alone a million dollars.

Through other means, I discovered Noah Davidson's true identity, gathered all the evidence, and finally had him sent to prison.

After a long period of despair, Arianna finally pulled herself together and begged for my forgiveness.

My heart was not unscathed.

The pain felt like fresh blood oozing from my heart, keeping me awake all night.

Later, both our parents persuaded me, saying that Arianna had realized her mistake and deserved a chance to make amends.

They said it was hard to find true love in a second marriage, and the first wife was the best.

More importantly, she was the mother of our son, and the bond between mother and child was the hardest to sever.

In the end, I forgave her.

She returned to the family, caring for everyone and loving her work. Due to her outstanding performance, she was even sent abroad to study for two years.

During this period, she gained fame by frequently solving medical problems and publishing several papers in internationally renowned medical journals. After returning, she quickly became a top neurosurgeon in the country.

In the following years, although we couldn't return to our former loving state, we maintained a respectful and courteous relationship in front of others, still considered a perfect couple by societal standards.

Until a few years later, I developed a brain tumor.

The biopsy showed it was benign and could be removed with surgery.

It wasn't a complicated surgery, and with Arianna personally performing it, there shouldn't have been any surprises.

But unexpectedly, as I lay there waiting for the anesthesia to take effect, she held the scalpel and finally revealed her long-hidden true face.

She leaned close to my ear and calmly, as if discussing the weather, said, "Do you know how cruel you were back then? Soon you will be punished."

After the surgery, my brain nerves were damaged, leaving me paralyzed and confined to bed, enduring endless pain.

I completely understood then that she hated me to the core.

From the day I personally sent Noah to prison, she had never stopped hating me.

Until my death, I couldn't understand how she could still harbor deep love for Noah, even knowing he approached her only for money, and see me as a thorn in her side, finally finding a chance to take revenge.

It turns out that when someone becomes despicable, there is no reasoning behind it.

Fortunately, heaven pitied me and gave me a second chance at life.

In this life, I left all choices to her.

I also wanted to see with my own eyes if her despicable behavior was her pursuit in both lives.

I didn't immediately propose a divorce.

That night, my son Gabe and I continued to celebrate Arianna's birthday.

She tried hard to conceal her feelings, pretending to be open and sincere, but was still absent-minded.

After all, her teenage crush had reappeared in her life, still charming and even more mature, leaving a significant impact on her.

We booked a twin room, but at night she insisted on sleeping with our son, claiming it was because I'm a light sleeper and she didn't want to disturb me by turning over.

In my two lifetimes, this was the first time I learned I was a light sleeper.

I smiled faintly, tacitly agreeing.

Her early vow of chastity for her 'god' matched her infatuated behavior from our previous life.

I closed my eyes on the other bed, but internally I was in turmoil, with the various resentments and bitterness from our past life surfacing.

I didn't know how much time had passed when I heard very light footsteps.

In the darkness, Arianna quietly opened the door, slipped out, and disappeared.

She didn't return until five in the morning, carrying the scent of an adult.

Back in the city, Arianna made the usual excuse of having to work at the hospital.

After dropping off our son at his activity class, instead of waiting outside as usual, I quickly went to a law firm.

The next day, I sought out my old boss at General Hospital.

Learning that I wanted to return to work, my old boss shook his head, "General Hospital is the best in the city. You can't just come and go as you please. Despite your PhD, you've been out of practice for seven years, and no hospital would dare let you operate again."

Seven years ago, when Arianna gave birth to our son Gabe, neither of our parents were fit to help, and several nanny abuse scandals had just surfaced. After discussing it with Arianna, I decided to quit my job and became a rare full-time dad.

At that time, I was already a chief neurosurgeon. My old boss advised me against quitting, saying that if I could overcome the current difficulties, my career prospects would be bright.

But back then, I thought it was much harder for a woman to return to the workforce than for a man. If someone had to quit, it had to be me.

Besides, Arianna's job wasn't easy either.

We just had different roles.

But in the end, I only moved myself.

After my persistent requests, my old boss finally informed me, "Next month, there's a public recruitment for a radiologist position in a county hospital. If you are interested, you should prepare for it."

I knew this county was over 200 kilometers from the city, with no high-speed rail, only long-distance buses, taking over ten hours round trip.

Additionally, the pay in the county was low, and radiology was far from my previous specialty.

But now, I had no room to be picky.

I had to grasp any lifeline at hand; I needed a job to fight for my son's custody.

After registering, I devoted myself entirely to exam preparation.

When I first started at the hospital, I rotated through the radiology department. This knowledge wasn't difficult.

But being away from the field for seven years, both medical theory and technology had evolved significantly, making my once-familiar skills obsolete.

Besides studying theoretical knowledge, I frequently reached out to old classmates to help me understand the latest radiology equipment in various hospitals.

Knowing I was applying for a radiology position in a district, my classmates nodded with awkward smiles. "Good, good."

But their faces showed mixed reactions—surprise, doubt, and even schadenfreude.

Once a top student who became a chief surgeon at General Hospital shortly after graduation, I was the envy of everyone.

Now, I couldn't even get a radiology job.

Seeing me so busy, my son curiously asked, "Dad, are you preparing to go back to school?"

I patted his head.

No, I was preparing for a war.

In this war, my son, Arianna, and her 'idol' Noah would all be involved.