Brookside had always known one thing: Jonah, the CEO of Robert Group, adored me to the moon and back. My name is Rosa Gray. Since we got married, every asset under our roof bore my name. Even Robert Group's most ambitious project had been christened after me, a grand gesture that left many envious.

On our first wedding anniversary, Jonah surprised me with a rose tattoo inked right over his heart. Later, when I gave birth to twin daughters, he named them Rosalie and Rosabelle, their names reflecting mine like an eternal echo of his supposed devotion.

But even the most beautiful facades can hide the ugliest truths. Jonah lived to eighty and in his final moments, he publicly declared that his burial site should be chosen next to his first love, Rosa Dawson—a woman who had passed away long before we ever met.

It was then I realized, with gut-wrenching clarity, that in this marriage I had always treasured, I was nothing but a substitute. And what was substituted wasn't even me—but my name.

My pride crumbled in an instant. The envious gazes of Brookside's noblewomen turned to derisive laughter. The humiliation of being nothing more than a replacement consumed me and I couldn't bear the betrayal. Late one evening, with my hands trembling and tears streaming uncontrollably, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills, hoping to escape the suffocating reality.

When I opened my eyes, however, I found myself staring not at the afterlife but at the familiar, elegant decor of Jonah's living room. The air was heavy with the fragrance of fresh roses.

This was the day of our first wedding anniversary—the day he presented me with that rose tattoo.

This time, I wouldn't play the fool.

——

"Rosa, look at this rose," Jonah's voice interrupted my racing thoughts. I turned to find him standing in front of me, holding up a photograph of the tattoo freshly inked on his chest. His lips curved into a proud, boyish smile. "It's my gift for our first anniversary. I had it tattooed over my heart because you'll always be in my heart. From now on, every heartbeat will remind me to tell you that I love you."

His tone was warm and affectionate and for a fleeting moment, I almost believed him. Almost. But as I stared at him, his words from his deathbed echoed mercilessly in my mind. The tattoo wasn't for me—it was for the ghost of a woman he couldn't forget.

Jonah was radiant that day, his dark hair neatly combed and his tailored suit fitting him perfectly. He was the picture of a perfect husband, the very image of the man I had adored. Yet now, I could only feel a bitter sense of irony.

This time, I wouldn't let his grand gestures blind me.

"Jonah," I began, my voice calm yet distant, "can I ask you something? Why do you never call me Sasha? Everyone else does. My family, my friends… yet, you've always called me Rosa."

The question made him falter. For the first time that evening, his confident demeanor cracked. His brows knitted together in confusion and he tilted his head slightly, as if buying himself time to think. "Why are you asking this out of the blue?"

I forced a small smile. "Don't you think Sasha sounds closer, more intimate than Rosa?"

He stiffened, his mouth opening and closing as though searching for the right words. Finally, he chuckled nervously, waving off the question. "What are you talking about? Alright, go get dressed. I made reservations for dinner. You'll love it."

Jonah was deflecting, just as I had expected. But his inability to answer made my chest ache in ways I couldn't describe. It felt as though my heart was being wrung dry, drop by drop.

Looking at him, I felt a surge of determination. I wouldn't let myself be deceived this time. My hands clenched into fists as I suppressed the bitterness rising in my throat. When I finally spoke, my voice was soft but firm.

"Jonah, let's get a divorce."

The words hung in the air, sharp and final. His cheerful expression froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What's wrong, Rosa?" His voice cracked slightly, his usual confidence replaced by panic. "Did something happen? Is it because I wasn't with you earlier today? I went to get a tattoo! I wanted to surprise you! I thought you'd like this…"

I cut Jonah off coldly, my voice steady but laced with bitterness. "Jonah, do you truly love me? We only dated for half a year before getting married, but now it's clear we're not meant for each other."

He froze, his hand mid-air as if reaching to take mine, his usual confident smile faltering. I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the weight of my own words. "Just let me go, Jonah."

The air between us grew tense. For a moment, Jonah stared at me, his face unreadable. Then, as if a switch had flipped, his gentle expression hardened. A flicker of anger darkened his hazel eyes and his voice turned sharp. "Sasha, have I been too good to you? Do you know how many women in all of Brookside envy you? Everything I've done—every gift, every gesture—it's all for you. And today of all days, you just have to stir up trouble, don't you?"

His tone cut through me like a blade and I had to bite down on my trembling lip to stop myself from crying. Jonah abruptly rose from his seat, his towering figure casting a shadow over me. Without another glance in my direction, he stormed toward the door. "Fine! Stay home by yourself!"

The door slammed shut behind him with a deafening thud, the vibrations reverberating through the room like the final note of a cruel symphony. It felt as if the sound had landed directly on my chest, shattering something fragile and irreplaceable. The tears I'd been holding back spilled over, hot and uncontrollable, streaking down my face.

I collapsed onto the couch, covering my face with trembling hands. The man I had loved for sixty years, the man I once believed was my entire world, had always been two different people. When he called me "Sasha," there was indifference. When he called me "Rosa," it was all a lie.

The realization crushed me. No matter what Jonah's feelings had truly been, I knew one thing for certain: in my past life, I had loved him with everything I had. To divorce him now, even knowing what I knew, felt like tearing away a part of myself. But Jonah, no matter how much it hurts, this time, I am truly done with you.

***

The days passed in an eerie silence. Jonah didn't come home at all and the printed divorce papers sat untouched on the coffee table, an ominous reminder of the choice I had made.

Perhaps even fate, tired of my suffering, had granted me this second chance. I couldn't waste it.

With renewed determination, I grabbed the divorce papers, the cool weight of the documents grounding me. Outside, the sky had darkened, the faint hum of the city lights illuminating the streets like scattered stars.

By the time I reached the towering Robert Group building, night had fully descended. The only light in the entire structure came from Jonah's office, a glowing beacon that pierced through the inky darkness.

As I approached the office door, muffled sounds reached my ears. My steps faltered and my heart clenched as I strained to listen.

Through the slightly ajar door, I caught a glimpse of Jonah and a woman entangled in a moment of passion. They were perched on his massive mahogany desk, the same desk where he had once signed the deeds to place every asset under my name. The vulgarity of the scene clashed with the pristine professionalism of the room, the woman's soft moans and Jonah's hushed voice echoing in the air like a cruel melody.

The woman giggled breathlessly, her voice teasing. "Jonah, you haven't been home these past few days. Won't your wife start asking questions?"

Jonah's answer came in an impatient growl. "Why are you bringing her up now? Such bad luck! I don't know what's gotten into her, wanting a divorce out of nowhere."

The woman laughed, running her fingers along his chest. "You should've expected it. After all, even if she's just a stand-in, you should put in a little more effort."

Jonah snorted derisively. "Looks like I've been too good to her all along. Now she's daring to act so ungrateful."

My world shattered all over again. The sounds of their laughter blurred into static as my heart sank lower and lower. I had believed that, no matter the circumstances, Jonah's affection for me in the past life had been genuine. But now, it was clear my kindness had always been a joke—a weakness he exploited.

Clutching the divorce papers tightly, I pushed the door open without hesitation. The sharp creak of the door cut through their laughter like a knife.

Jonah's head snapped toward me, his face paling as he registered my presence. For a split second, panic flickered in his eyes, but he quickly masked it, hastily adjusting his disheveled clothes.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice wavering slightly.

Ignoring his question, I strode into the room, brushing aside the scattered clothing on the desk with deliberate force. I slammed the divorce papers onto the wooden surface between them, the sound reverberating in the heavy silence.

"You've been too busy to come home these past few days," I said coldly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "Since we've already talked about divorce, there's no point in dragging this out. Let's get it done as soon as possible."

I shifted my gaze to the woman, who was calmly adjusting her dress. "And this way, she can take my place."

Compared to Jonah's visible panic, the woman remained composed. She stepped forward, smoothing her dress with practiced ease and extended her hand toward me.

"Hello, Mrs. Robert. My name is Violet, Mr. Robert's assistant."

Her voice was smooth and self-assured, a honeyed facade that only deepened my disdain. I didn't even glance at her, keeping my eyes locked on Jonah. His posture was rigid, his jaw clenched, as if bracing for my next move.

"Hurry up and sign the papers," I said, my tone cold and detached. "Before coming here, I've packed my things and moved out of the house. My lawyer will handle the rest."

Each word was delivered with finality and I watched as Jonah's expression shifted from disbelief to simmering rage. Without waiting for his response, I turned on my heel, ready to leave the suffocating office.

But Jonah's hand shot out, gripping my wrist tightly. His strength caught me off guard and I stumbled slightly as he blocked my path. "Sasha," he growled, his voice low and threatening, "what on earth has gotten into you? If you want a divorce, at least give me a reason! Haven't I treated you well enough? Do you even realize how many women would kill to be Mrs. Robert?"

I yanked my arm free with a sharp motion, the sting of his grip lingering on my skin. The fire that had been burning inside me erupted as I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the office, silencing even the subdued hum of the city outside.

Jonah staggered back slightly, his cheek reddening with the imprint of my hand. His eyes widened in shock, more at my audacity than the pain. I met his gaze, my voice trembling with anger but steady in its resolve.

"Jonah, you've got no shame. Do you really need me to spell it out for you? For the past year and a half, who is this Rosa you keep calling out for? And who is the rose tattoo on your chest really meant for?"

The corner of his lip curled into a sneer as he tilted his head, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. "So you know?" he said, a mocking lilt in his voice. "I was wondering what this was all about. Sasha, let me tell you something—being a stand-in for Rosa is a blessing. You should be grateful! Otherwise, who do you think you are? How could you ever compare to her?"

If I had heard these words before I was reborn, they would have broken me. But after everything I had witnessed—the lies, the betrayal and the humiliation—they now only fueled my resolve. I let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking my head at his audacity.

Without another word, I turned to leave. The anger emanating from Jonah was palpable, but I didn't care. As I reached the doorway, I paused, an idea forming in my mind. Slowly, I turned back to face him, my lips curling into a cold smile.

"Jonah, do you know what makes you truly revolting? You think Rosa would be moved by your devotion, but it's nothing more than a play you direct and act out for your own gratification. Do you think she, up in heaven, would enjoy watching you degrade yourself with another woman?"

His expression darkened, his body tense as if ready to retaliate, but I didn't wait for his response. I walked out, letting the door close behind me with a soft but resolute click.

Barely a few steps down the hall, I heard the sound of glass shattering inside the office, followed by an enraged yell. I smirked to myself, though the satisfaction was fleeting. Men like Jonah were all the same—proud, entitled and blind to their own flaws.

***

Jonah's one redeeming quality was his efficiency. After the mandatory cooling-off period, we finalized the divorce without any further drama. The ink on the papers had barely dried when I boarded a plane to the United States, leaving Brookside and its painful memories behind.

In my past life, I had let myself be swept up in Jonah's whirlwind romance, dropping out of school and sacrificing my dreams to become his dutiful wife. This time, I wasn't making the same mistake. I had a second chance and I intended to live it for myself.

***

Five years passed in the blink of an eye. During that time, I immersed myself in my studies, earning degrees and certifications that I once thought were out of reach. Staying in the United States after graduation was an easy decision, as the opportunities here were boundless.

With the foresight granted by my second life and a sharp eye for investments, I quickly established my own company. My experience from two lifetimes allowed me to navigate Wall Street with unparalleled precision, picking winning ventures with almost supernatural accuracy. Soon, my name became synonymous with success, my firm a formidable presence in the financial world.

Despite the long hours and cutthroat competition, I found myself at peace. For the first time in decades, I was truly free—free from expectations, free from betrayal and free to define my own happiness.

I thought my life would continue this way, a steady climb of success uninterrupted by the past.

That was until I received an email from Brookside Business Association. The message was polite yet persistent, inviting me to return to England to support local enterprises through investment.