My wife bought a fake product, returned a different defective one, and when the delivery guy came to argue, she acted unreasonable and deliberately provoked him.

The guy pulled out a razor blade he had prepared long ago and slashed at me as I tried to defend my wife.

At the very first moment, my wife shoved me forward and locked the door behind me.

I was left bleeding all over, slashed by the furious delivery guy. No matter how hard I pounded on the door or begged for help, my wife Emily Johnson never responded.

She did nothing—no call to the police, no ambulance—just sat inside, quietly waiting for me to die.

When I was finally delivered to the morgue, my male neighbor Daniel Smith casually unlocked my home with a key and held Emily in his arms.

“Michael Carter has treated you so well, always giving in to you. How could you just watch him die?”

Upon hearing my name, Emily’s eyes filled with cold indifference.

“If he doesn’t die, how else can we be together openly?”

…

I touched my throat—it was intact.

I had been given a second chance at life, though the sensation of being slashed remained vivid.

In my previous life, provoking the delivery guy was all part of Emily’s carefully crafted scheme.

This time, I would not die so foolishly.

“Honey, go check outside. The water’s out—it must be that awful delivery guy messing with us again.”

Emily came out of the room, her brows furrowed.

Looking at her innocent face, I sneered inwardly.

In the last life, I trusted her too much, believed her lies, thought the delivery guy had feelings for her. I never listened to his explanation and argued with him until things spiraled out of control.

Emily was a small but rising social media influencer, and she received countless packages every day, so her story sounded plausible.

I walked to the door and opened it.

The delivery guy—Jason Miller—was standing right outside.

Emily rushed forward. “Did you shut off the water? You broke my water heater! Pay up—it cost me thousands, imported from overseas!”

In my previous life, I let my emotions take control, never questioning her words.

But that water heater had been gifted by the brand, and it was worth only a few hundred.

Emily’s greed was bottomless; she wanted to squeeze money out of him.

Before Jason could even speak, Emily staggered backward into my arms.

“Honey, he laid hands on me!”

“He hurt me!”

But I saw clearly—Jason hadn’t even lifted his hand. It was all Emily’s performance.

In my last life, I was fooled by her act, lashed out at Jason, and he, feeling wronged, chose to fight back with violence.

This time, I would never be that stupid again.

Jason’s hand slipped toward his pocket.

I pushed Emily aside. She stared at me, stunned, sensing my distance.

“I didn’t see him touch you.”

Emily’s anger flared. “Michael, are you blind? Can’t you see he tried to harass me?”

Yes, I was blind—blind enough to have chosen Emily in the first place.

I looked at her coldly. “You know very well whether he touched you or not.”

For the first time, panic flickered across Emily’s face. I had always indulged her every whim, never once showing coldness, much less disgust.

Jason gave me a grateful glance—only I knew how wrongly accused he had been.

“Michael, are you still my husband or not? Why are you siding with an outsider?”

Husband? What a joke. Wasn’t there already someone else?

Seeing I didn’t reply, Emily thought I was wavering. She pointed at Jason and shouted, “Michael, call the delivery company and file a complaint right now. He came here in person—he has to be destroyed, socially ruined!”

No sooner had Emily finished speaking than Jason’s eyes flared with rage.

In my previous life, after my death, I learned the truth. Jason had lived a hard life—his parents were gone, and he grew up an orphan. He worked diligently as a delivery driver, had just found a girlfriend, and life was finally looking up.

But because Emily kept filing complaints, the company—FedEx—was about to fire him. His girlfriend left him too.

Crushed by repeated blows, he finally reached the point of desperation, ready to drag someone down with him.

Emily had done everything in order to get me killed.

I pulled out my phone and handed it to her.

She froze. “What do you mean by this?”

“I think the delivery guy has been doing his job responsibly. If you want to complain, make the call yourself.”

Emily bit her lip. She wouldn’t make that call—she wanted to redirect the hatred, so Jason would see me as the enemy.

“Michael, you’ve changed. You used to do whatever I asked. Do you have someone else now? Don’t you love me anymore?”

Yes. Emily had been the woman I held in the palm of my hand. I would’ve given her my heart if I could. Yet she never saw it.

“Believe what you want.”

Seeing that I no longer bothered to pretend, cold light flashed in Emily’s eyes. She pointed at me and said, “Jason, don’t be fooled. I’m a social media influencer with a real future. I wouldn’t ruin myself over lies.”

“My husband thought I was having an affair with you, that’s why he targeted you, complained, got you nearly fired.”

“I only treated you harshly to clear my own name!”

Jason’s fury was stoked. His hand dipped into his pocket.

I stepped forward, grabbed his wrist, and whispered, “Don’t. Stay calm.”

Jason blinked, surprised. I leaned in and said quietly, “Go home first. I’ll settle this. I’ll make sure you get justice.”

Perhaps because I had spoken up for him earlier, Jason trusted me. He cast one last, burning look at Emily, then turned and left.

Emily stomped her foot. “Michael, you’re just letting him go?”

I frowned. “Yes.”

Emily burst into tears, loud enough to draw the neighbors from upstairs and downstairs.

She often bribed them with little favors, so when they saw her crying, they instinctively sided with her.

“Michael, what’s wrong with you? How could you make Emily cry?”

“Emily is such a good woman. You’d better not take her for granted.”

I nearly laughed out loud. A good woman? A woman plotting her husband’s murder? She was no saint—more like a modern-day Lady Macbeth.

When asked, Emily recounted what had just happened.

“Michael, you’re barely home. Emily runs everything.”

“She manages the finances while you’re useless.”

“And when trouble comes, you just hide? Are you even a man?”

I sneered.

“So what?”

“And what business is it of yours?”

The neighbors froze. Normally, I was polite, courteous to everyone.

This wasn’t a lack of manners—it was that I had no reason to endure any longer.

They all knew about Emily and Daniel, yet they took her side because she bought their silence with favors, keeping me, the fool, in the dark.

And to think, I even spent my spare time helping them fix things—children’s toys, home appliances, you name it.

Ungrateful bastards.

As for their accusations—utter nonsense.

When I first met Emily, she had just started as a content creator, barely known.

All her expenses were covered by me. Even after she gained followers, I still paid for her filming costs, while she wasted her earnings freely.

I was willing to spend money on the woman I loved—everyone makes that choice willingly. But betrayal? That was different.

Emily faltered. “Michael, why are you yelling? You’re scaring me.”

The neighbors joined in.

“Michael, you looked decent enough before, but now you’re violent.”

“Look at that twisted face—are you going to hit someone?”

“Emily, don’t be afraid. Whatever wrongs you’ve suffered, tell us. We’ll stand by you. We’ll testify.”

Emily let out a smug little laugh, thinking she had already won.

“Michael, apologize. If your attitude is sincere, maybe I’ll forgive you.”

I sneered. “Thanks so much!”

Emily really thought she was something. But once I knew she had another man, all I felt was disgust. My years of devotion had gone to waste.

Just looking at her face now made me sick.

Hearing my words, Emily was shocked. She couldn’t understand why I spoke with such sarcasm.

In the past, whenever she stirred up trouble, I always apologized immediately, humble to the point of groveling.

Perhaps it was my weakness that emboldened her, made her disregard my feelings completely.

“What’s going on?” Daniel came over.

I saw him and Emily exchange a glance, sharing some silent communication, as if asking why their plan had failed.

One of the gossiping neighbors filled him in.

Daniel scowled. “Michael, this is your fault. Emily was wronged—you should’ve stood up for her, not just brushed it aside.”

“Look at her, so upset, so hurt. How can anyone not feel sorry for her?”

“Women are meant to be cherished.”

Cherished? Sure—you cherished her while I was at work.

Now I understood why Emily always encouraged me to switch jobs. Not only would it mean more money, but the new office was farther away.

Longer commutes meant later nights home, leaving more time for the two of them to fool around.

I chuckled. “You sound experienced.”

Daniel nodded. “Of course. Want me to give you some pointers?”

I shook my head. “No need.”

Emily scoffed. “Michael, I’m so disappointed in you. Daniel’s trying to teach you, and this is your attitude?”

Daniel sighed and gave me a look of pity.

I smiled at him. “Since you’re so good at cherishing her, why bother? I’ll just leave her for you to cherish.”

Emily’s face darkened. She gritted her teeth. “Michael, are you serious?”

I nodded. “Did you think I was joking?”

Emily scoffed. “Fine. Let’s see how long before you come crawling back to me.”

Crawl back? Not a chance. You killed me once already—I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll never give you another chance to hurt me.

It was laughable that she still thought she had control over me, that I would keep playing the fool.

Emily stormed back into the house, grabbed her bag, and ran off.

Daniel pointed at me, voice cold. “You’ll regret this, Michael!”

Regret? Not in the slightest. If anything, I’d never felt happier.

To avoid suspicion, Daniel went straight back to his own place. But I knew it wouldn’t be long before he slipped out again to meet Emily.

Under the neighbors’ watchful eyes, I turned and went back inside.

The moment I entered, I pulled out a suitcase and packed my belongings as quickly as possible.

I had fewer things than I thought. What I expected to be a struggle fit neatly into one bag.