On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband, Damian Pyke, once again left me for his first love. He said, "Taking care of a child alone isn't easy for Waverly. You're both women—can't you show her some understanding?"

Not only was I willing to understand Waverly Benson, but I was also ready to step aside entirely so they could raise her child together.

So, I packed my bags and applied for an overseas architecture program through my workplace. However, he eventually regretted it, crying and begging me not to go.

Damian Pyke left me once again for Waverly Benson, our neighbor.

I grabbed Damian's sleeve and asked, "Do you have to go? Today is our fifth wedding anniversary."

"Maisie, can you be a little more understanding? Waverly is raising a child on her own, and the kid has a high fever. She can't afford to wait," Damian growled as he impatiently pried my hand off.

I let out a cold laugh, noticing how that kid always seemed to get sick at just the right time.

I snapped, "The kid isn't even yours, so why is she always calling you instead of someone else? Damian, if you walk out that door today, we're getting a divorce tomorrow!"

However, Damian's face darkened. "Do whatever you want, but don't use this to threaten me! After our divorce, no one else would want a woman as heartless as you!"

Fury boiled inside me. The second he turned to open the door, I flipped the dining table over. The candlelit dinner I had prepared crashed to the floor.

Damian froze in place. "Are you out of your mind?! How did I end up marrying a crazy woman like you?"

I stormed out of the house, raising my voice. "Exactly, I'm crazy! What kind of married man keeps running off to another woman's house every other day?"

As I spoke, I marched straight to Waverly's home and pounded on the door. "Waverly! You were bold enough to steal my man, now be bold enough to come out and face me!"

The neighbors poked their heads out, watching the drama unfold. Damian's face turned bright red.

The door finally creaked open, and Waverly stepped out hesitantly, lowering her gaze. "Maisie, don't get the wrong idea. My child is really sick, and I couldn't carry him on my own. Damian's the only person we have to rely on."

I yanked her out of the doorway. "Wow, your kid has great timing! Last month, he got sick when Damian and I finally had a day off to see a movie together. Last week, he was sick on my birthday and today, he's sick on our anniversary!

"Funny how your kid suddenly falls ill every time Damian and I have a moment to ourselves! You know what? Why don't you just have him move in with you? That way, you can keep him by your side around the clock!"

I spun around and stormed back home, shoving Damian, who stood there frozen in shock. "What are you waiting for? Weren't you in a hurry? Go ahead!"

I slammed the door shut, leaving Damian and Waverly speechless in the hallway. Meanwhile, the neighbors whispered among themselves, casting looks of disgust at the two of them.

Damian knocked on the door, begging me to let him in, but I ignored him. It was not until he heard the loud bang of my bedroom door slamming shut that he clenched his jaw and punched the door in frustration before storming off.

Afterward, I calmly turned on the bedside lamp and flipped through a magazine. The reason I dared to cause such a scene was because I had been reborn.

In my past life, our home caught fire when Damian left to be with Waverly. I was trapped inside, locked in, and burned alive. Since I had a second chance, I would not let them walk all over me again.

If he wanted to be with another woman so badly, fine, I would help them be together. However, I would firstly make sure the entire neighborhood saw their true colors.

Damian did not come home that night, but I did not care where he went. The next morning, as I stepped out, I ran into Waverly. She looked exhausted, her eyes filled with resentment as if she wanted to strangle me.

I ignored her, locked my door, and headed straight to work. When I arrived at my manager's office, I handed him my application for a study abroad program.

James Allen's eyes widened. "Maisie, are you sure? You're the best candidate for this, but last time, you said you couldn't leave because of your family."

I replied, "Don't worry, Mr. Allen. I've thought it through. I'm willing to make personal sacrifices for the sake of this company's future.

"Studying abroad and learning advanced architecture techniques will help us grow in ways we never imagined. That's the most important thing right now. If you approve, I'll go home and start packing immediately."

James took a deep breath, put out his cigarette, and signed the papers. "Alright. Go say your goodbyes. You're leaving in a week."

I gave him a deep bow. "Thank you for believing in me."

Back home, I pulled out an old suitcase covered in dust—the same one I packed my stuff in when I moved here with him.

Back then, I married Damian against my family's wishes because I believed he was kind-hearted.

I thought he was a gentle and reliable man, but it turned out that his kindness had always been selective—reserved only for the first love he could never let go of.

Waverly's husband died years ago—crushed in a mining collapse. Back then, she was heavily pregnant, and she went into early labor when she heard the news.

Damian stayed by her side, running around the hospital to help her. It was understandable—just one neighbor helping another during a tough time.

However, no one expected that, right after her husband's death, Waverly would set her sights on Damian.

Ever since her kid was born, every little thing became Damian's problem. If the baby needed formula, if the clothes were too small, if the kid got sick—it was all on him.

Out of Damian's 500-dollar paycheck each month, 400 dollars went straight to Waverly and her child.

Our own home did not even have a single decent appliance. The old, rusty bike out at the front was part of my wedding gift.

I tried talking to him about it once, but he just sighed and called me heartless.

"You're a woman too. Why can't you show some empathy for Waverly? She lost her husband while pregnant, almost died giving birth, and now, she has no one. If we don't help her, who will?"

However, everyone in the neighborhood knew that Waverly had received a large payout after her husband's death. Meanwhile, in our home, I was the only one actually contributing to the household.

The old me would have lost my temper and caused a scene, but not anymore. I packed my suitcase, placed the divorce papers on the living room coffee table, and waited for Damian to come home.

He came back late, but I did not bother asking where he had been. The moment he saw me sitting on the couch, his eyes flicked to the documents on the table, and he tensed.

He asked, "Maisie, can we just stop fighting? I know my attitude's been bad lately, but divorcing over something this small? Isn't that too much?"

I chuckled bitterly. "Small? That kid is already calling you 'Dad', and you're still calling it a small matter? Damian, this divorce is happening—no discussion."

He instantly lost his temper. "Maisie Hale, stop being so unreasonable! The kid likes me because I'm a good person! What's so wrong with me being his godfather?"

I retorted, "A good person? Please. Is it really the kid who likes you, or is it his mother who's after you?"

His face darkened. "Maisie, you're impossible to talk to! I can't explain anything to a woman like you!"

I laughed softly. "Perfect. I'm giving you the chance to be with the kind of woman you can talk to. When I married you against my family's wishes, I thought you'd be good to me, but now? How could you expect me to sit back and watch you dote on another woman?"

I shouted, "Look around, Damian! The apartment belongs to my company. All the major appliances were part of our wedding gifts. I pay for the groceries, the water, the electricity—everything. Even the clothes you're wearing right now were bought with my money.

"What about your paycheck? You've been spending it on toys and snacks for Waverly's kid, on salon visits and pretty outfits for Waverly.

"Even when we visit my mom during the holidays, you never bring her anything, but Waverly's kid always gets a new coat or holiday gifts, courtesy of you."

I exhaled deeply, finally letting out the frustrations I had held inside for so long.

"Damian, your heart isn't here with me, so why drag this on? Let's end this. After the divorce, you can marry her properly and have that kid call you 'Dad' for real."

I stood up and walked to the bedroom. "This divorce is final."

Damian stood there for a long time, frozen. Then he followed me into the bedroom, his voice low and pleading. "Maisie, don't do this. Let's not get divorced, okay?"

I did not understand it. If his heart was already with Waverly, why did he insist on staying married to me?

Not that it mattered. In a week, I would be on a plane out of there. Whether or not he divorced me, Damian would eventually end up with Waverly.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of clanging pots and pans in the kitchen.

We had been married for five years, and in all that time, Damian had never once cooked for me—though he made soups and stews for Waverly when she was recovering from childbirth.

I ignored Damian and went to wash up. Then, I grabbed two hard-boiled eggs from the table and shoved them into my bag.

"Drink some hot soup before you go," Damian said softly, his tone unusually gentle.

However, it was too late for that. "No thanks. We're practically divorced—no need to sit down and share a meal."

I placed my bag over my shoulder and walked toward the door. "Oh, don't forget to leave the grocery money later. All the pots, pans, and groceries were bought with my money. If you want to eat here, pay up."

In our five years of marriage, Damian never spent a cent on me. I supported him, which meant I was, in fact, supporting another woman's household all along.

Just as I placed my hand on the door handle, I heard a knock from outside. I opened the door to see Clara Wilson standing there with a bright smile.

She said, "Maisie, these are fresh eggs from my family's farm back home. I thought you could use some extra nourishment."

I could tell Clara did not come just to drop off some eggs. She clearly had something on her mind, so I invited her in."Come on in, Clara. Have a seat."

Clara stepped inside and immediately caught sight of Damian at the dining table. She frowned and shook her head.

She told him, "Damian, I'm telling you, a married man shouldn't worry about another woman. Taking care of your own wife should be your top priority."

Damian kept his head down, silently shoving food into his mouth. Nonetheless, when he sneaked a guilty glance my way, I caught it.

I brought Clara a cup of tea, but she waved her hand. "I just came to say a few words. I have to send my kid to school soon."

I thanked her with a smile and walked her out. However, the moment I stepped outside, I noticed Waverly hovering nervously near the entrance.

"Damian, Waverly's out here waiting for you!" I called out, loud enough for him to hear from the living room.

I heard the clatter of utensils hitting the floor. Meanwhile, Waverly's face went pale, and she quickly whispered, "Maisie, please don't misunderstand. Damian and I are innocent. Nothing is going on, really…"

Hearing the word 'innocent' come from her mouth almost made me laugh.

I gave her a cold, sharp glare and spat, "Waverly, save that innocent act for Damian—he might fall for it, but I won't."

I continued, "You've been living off our money for years. I'm giving you three days to pay it all back. If you don't, I'll make sure the whole town hears about it through the broadcast station."

Waverly's expression turned stormy. "That money was just Damian being nice. He was just helping me out with groceries and the kid's stuff. What's the big deal?"

I retorted, "Has Damian actually told you how much he actually spent on you? Before we got married, he could spend whatever he wanted on you. That was his business. After our marriage, our income became shared property. Every month, he spent at least four hundred dollars on you and your kid. Over five years, that's around twenty-five thousand dollars."

I continued, "Either you pay me back, or I'll go straight to the police."

That number hit her like a punch to the gut.

Her eyes filled with panic, and she turned toward Damian, who was still sitting inside. "Damian, say something! Please!"

Damian did not even look up. His voice was weak and reluctant as he mumbled, "Waverly... Just pay her back. I-It's a lot of money."

Waverly was stupefied by his response. Suddenly, she collapsed onto her knees in front of me, sobbing.

"Maisie, I beg you, please... I'm raising a kid alone. I don't have that kind of money. Please have a little compassion..."

I was not in the mood to entertain her theatrics. Without another word, I turned and walked out the door.

After that, I headed straight to Damian and Waverly's workplace and found their manager, Simon Grande. I sat across from him and got straight to the point.

"Mr. Grande, I don't need you to mediate or take sides. I just want the money back—that's all. Whatever else happens, I don't care anymore."

Simon sighed and slid a cup of tea across the desk toward me. "Maisie, I've seen how much you've sacrificed for Damian over the years. He's the one who's in the wrong here, no question. I'll make sure you get your money back, but divorce... that's a big decision. Are you sure about this?"

I replied, "I've already applied for a study abroad program, Mr. Grande. I'll be leaving next week, and I don't know how long I'll be gone. Divorcing him and letting him marry Waverly is better for everyone involved."

He stared at me in surprise. I could tell he had not expected that from me, the woman everyone had pegged as the dutiful wife.

Nonetheless, Simon was sharp. After a moment, he gave me a nod.

"Studying abroad is a good choice, Maisie. This training will open new doors for you. Stay safe while you're out there.

"As for Damian... Well, he was on track to get the 'Employee of the Year' award, but I didn't realize he was this clueless about his priorities."

Just then, the office door burst open. Damian rushed in, his face flushed with anger. "Mr. Grande, don't listen to her! She's making things up. We're not getting divorced!"

Damian turned to me and added, "Maisie, you can't just decide something this big without talking to me! You're leaving the country? I don't agree to that!"

Before I could respond, Waverly stumbled in right after him, crying loudly.

She threw herself onto the floor and wailed, "Mr. Grande, please help me! Where am I supposed to get that kind of money? How will my child and I survive?"

Their dramatic entrance drew a crowd of curious coworkers, who gathered outside the office to watch.

I crossed my arms and spoke clearly, so everyone could hear me. "If you two don't mind embarrassing yourselves, go right ahead, but this divorce is happening. As for that money, I want every last cent of it back."

Waverly's sobs grew louder.

"Twenty-five thousand dollars... I'll never be able to repay that! How am I supposed to live after this? I might as well just die!"

Suddenly, she lunged toward the window.