"Diana, how dare you strike your elders? Don’t you have any manners or proper upbringing?!"

I calmly pulled out my phone and brought up the video I had just recorded.

"Elders should be even more reasonable. Just because you’ve lived a few more years doesn’t mean you can act without restraint."

To his credit, my father-in-law remained composed. He snatched the phone and began watching.

The video captured everything. I was the one giving Jeremiah a warning that he couldn’t swim, urging him to think of me and our child. But he had insisted on diving in.

My in-laws exchanged a glance, awkward and visibly speechless.

"Diana, this was indeed Jeremiah’s fault. But no matter what, you’re still husband and wife. You can’t just leave him behind."

"Yes, your child is already this grown. Think about his future. Don’t act on impulse."

I knew they were just afraid of losing a free caregiver.

After waiting a while longer, the doctor finally stepped out of the operating room.

The result was exactly the same as in my previous life.

Due to prolonged oxygen deprivation, Jeremiah had suffered neurological damage. From now on, he would be confined to a wheelchair, requiring constant care.

My in-laws wailed then promptly found excuses to slip away.

They had other sons. Staying would only mean taking on more responsibility.

Jeremiah, meanwhile, behaved as if nothing had happened. He lay there, casually sending voice messages to Savannah on his phone.

"Savannah, are you okay? I’m fine, too, don’t worry about me."

"Once I’m discharged, I’ll learn how to swim. I swear this kind of thing will never happen again."

Savannah didn’t reply for a long time. Jeremiah’s face darkened with impatience before he turned to me.

"When can I be discharged?"

When Jeremiah found out he’d spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair, he tore through the hospital room in a blind rage.

This time, I didn’t stop him. I simply stood in a safe corner, silently watching him destroy everything.

In the end, he had to pay the hospital a hefty compensation, nearly draining all his savings.

Back home, he trashed everything again.

My son locked himself in his room, sending messages to Savannah.

"Aunt Savannah, Dad’s really scary right now. Can you come and keep him company?"

I pretended nothing had happened and quietly served four dishes and a soup on the table.

Jeremiah slammed his hand down.

"Your man’s a cripple for life now, and you still have the nerve to sit there and eat? Did a dog eat your conscience?"

I didn’t even glance at him. I looked straight at my son. "Eat."

He threw down his utensils, more furious than Jeremiah.

"If Dad’s not eating, I’m not eating either! He’s right, you’re heartless. Aunt Savannah is way better than you."

"If she were here, she’d be comforting Dad, not just shoveling food into her mouth like you!"

I said nothing, only nodded, and calmly picked a bit of each dish for myself.

If I didn’t eat now, I might not get another chance later.

The moment he mentioned Savannah again, Jeremiah snapped.

He swept the plates and bowls off the table in one violent motion and, in the chaos, lost his balance and toppled from his wheelchair.

In my past life, I had always worried that he couldn’t take the blow, constantly giving in, only to be repaid with endless insults and abuse.

Now I understood. If I meant nothing to him, then why should I care whether he lived or died?

"Dad!"

My son rushed over, but with his small frame, he couldn’t do a thing.

"How can you still be eating?! Don’t you see Dad fell?! Why aren’t you helping?!"

I continued chewing slowly and deliberately, my full attention on the meal before me.

"Diana!"

Jeremiah roared, eyes bloodshot. "Get over here and help me up, or you’ll regret it!"

I calmly set my bowl down and pointed to the scattered food on the floor.

"This is your meal. If you don’t finish it, there won’t be a next one."

"And you, if you don’t want to eat, then go hungry."

I turned and headed upstairs, leaving the father and son still hurling curses behind me.

"Diana! Once I can stand again, I’ll tear you apart piece by piece, you filthy woman!"

My son tried to soothe him. "Dad, don’t be mad. I already called Aunt Savannah. She’s coming soon, and I bet she’ll bring something delicious!"

Jeremiah nodded with certainty.

He and Savannah had always been close, and this time, he’d gotten injured saving her. Emotionally and morally, she had no reason not to step up and take care of him.

"When Savannah gets here, I’m kicking that nasty woman out. She’s just kicking me while I’m down!"

"Yeah! I’ve always wanted to live with Aunt Savannah. She’s a thousand times better than her!"

I sneered.

Savannah would come, but not yet.

Lilith had scheduled an interview for me that afternoon. I needed to dress well and leave a good impression.

Downstairs, the father and son kept rambling on, plotting how to kick me out and imagining their perfect little life with Savannah.

When I came downstairs, fully dressed, Jeremiah froze.

I wore my old professional attire, stockings, and high heels I hadn’t touched in years.

Back then, this look had driven him wild. I figured it still might.

"Why are you dressed like that? I’m not even dead yet, and you’re already out to seduce other men?"

I met his glare with a half-smile. "Dead or alive, what difference does it make?"

Jeremiah’s face turned red with shame and fury. "Just wait until tonight. I’ll make you pay for this!"

"You should be more worried about how you’ll get to the bathroom."

I shut the door behind me, cutting off his useless rage.

The interview went smoothly.

Before marriage, I had already made a name for myself in the design world. I only gave it up to take care of the family.

Lilith was generous; she directly assigned me to lead a branch’s design projects, right within my expertise.

In the end, she insisted on treating me to a meal to thank me for returning her earring.

By the time I got home, it was already 9 PM.

As I opened the door, a foul stench hit me, and I instinctively pinched my nose.

Jeremiah was still in the same spot, filth dripping from his wheelchair and pooling across the floor.

"How did you end up like this? Disgusting, isn’t it?"

Jeremiah clenched his teeth. "Help me up. My body’s gone numb."

I glanced around. "Where’s your son?"

"He said it was too gross and locked himself in his room."

I nodded. "Well, I find it gross too. I’m going back to my room."

"Wait!"

Jeremiah looked reluctant. "I haven’t eaten. Can you make me something?"

I threw his own words right back at him. "You’re a cripple now, and you still have the appetite to eat?"

"If you’re that hungry, isn’t there food on the floor?"

Jeremiah struggled to keep his composure. "That food… I already… messed it up."

"That’s your problem. Nothing to do with me."

Without another glance, I headed upstairs.

In my previous life, I had slept with one eye open, worn myself thin, and landed in the hospital.

But this time, I could finally enjoy a good night’s rest.

I slept soundly until eight in the morning, my body light, my mind relaxed.

When I came downstairs, the floor had been cleaned spotlessly.

The three of them sat around the dining table, chatting and laughing like a cozy little family.

Savannah peeled an egg for Jeremiah, then turned to glance at me.

"Sorry, I didn’t know you were home. I didn’t make breakfast for you."

Jeremiah sank his teeth into the egg with hostility.

"Diana, did you really think I’d starve to death without you?"

"You’re wrong. I still have Savannah. She’ll take good care of me. She’s ten thousand times better than you!"

My son nodded vaguely, his mouth stuffed. "I’ve never had such a delicious breakfast!"

Only I noticed the flicker of disgust and irritation in Savannah’s eyes.

I glanced around and sure enough, there was a phone propped up nearby, silently recording.