In my past life, when the fire broke out, Roman and I had both called Serena at the same time. Thanks to my illness, she had chosen to save me first. By the time we returned to the burning house, the flames had grown too strong. No one could get inside.

Roman was swallowed by the fire, reduced to nothing but ashes.

Serena had told me it wasn’t my fault. She even took care of me while I recovered. But the moment I was discharged, she dragged me to Roman’s grave and plunged a dagger into my chest. Blood splattered across her face as she whispered through gritted teeth,

"James, do you know what it feels like to watch the person you love burn to death? I want you to suffer ten times the pain I went through!"

And Serena made sure I did. I died in that fire, just as she had wished. But this time, I only wanted to escape after I got reborn. Yet, Serena wouldn’t let me go even in this life.

Serena refused to give me any emergency treatment. Not even a cooling pad. Indeed, she was very cruel.

Another mouthful of blood spilled from my lips. Desperation clawed at my chest as I let out a hoarse, final cry for help.

"Save me ... please ..."

One of the rescuers finally turned to look at me. Disdain filled his gaze. He sneered, then kicked me.

"Dang it, James! Just quit your acting. Everyone knows you hated Roman. Who would’ve thought a weakling like you would actually set a fire? Serena’s busy saving real lives. No one’s watching your performance anymore."

"To be honest, we admire you. You’re really willing to do all this for a woman. But it’s a shame … Serena only has Roman in her eyes. You’d better pray he’s okay. Otherwise, she’ll divorce you without hesitation."

I knew Serena didn’t love me, but I never expected even her teammates to look at me with such disdain.

The searing pain from my burns made it impossible to make a sound. My skin peeled under the intense heat, my body trembling with agony. The rescuers were busy putting out the flames. However, none of them even glanced in my direction.

Through my dazed state, I heard one of her teammates exclaim, “Why is there so much blood? Damn, this is bad. Is something really wrong with James?”

“What could possibly happen to this weak-ass grown man? I think he just wants Serena to come running to him. He’s probably faking it.”

Still, someone reluctantly suggested, “Fine, let’s call Serena over and see.”

But when she arrived, there was no concern in her voice. Instead, what greeted me was cold interrogation. A gloved hand slapped my face twice.

"James, wake up! Quit pretending. I’m here."

Her tone was sharp, full of impatience.

"How could you act so stupid? You set a fire and got yourself burned like this. Was it fun to see the consequence of your action?"

Even now, Serena believed that I was the one who started the fire. It was me who was jealous and putting on an act. Even though I wanted to explain, my throat was too scorched to form words. The pain in my chest from my broken ribs was unbearable.

Desperate, I reached for her sleeve, hoping she’d finally understand that I needed help. But she hesitated for only a second before shoving my hand away.

"Nice performance. If Roman hadn’t told me you hid after setting the fire, I might have believed you."

With that, she turned and walked away without a second thought.

The next moment, I heard someone shout, "Serena! Blood! He’s bleeding!"

"Is he actually injured?"

"Don’t worry about him," Serena said coldly.

"Roman said James’ blood is just fake blood. He’s just acting fragile, that’s all. Let him keep up the act if he wants to."

The pain became too much. My vision blurred. After that, everything faded into darkness.

In my dreams, I returned to the time I first met Serena.

At a university lecture, Serena stood on stage. Her expression was as cold as ice. Her professional skills were unmatched to none. She had an aura that made many men want to challenge her. I was no exception.

The moment I saw Serena, I was captivated. I started asking around, trying to learn everything I could about her. At that time, I was just an intern lecturer. She barely acknowledged me.

Determined to earn her attention, I worked harder than ever. When I finally became a full-time professor, I invited Serena to dinner as a thank-you dinner. That night, I noticed something change in the way she looked at me.

I seized the opportunity, pursuing her with everything I had with flowers, cakes and expensive gifts. Eventually, I got what I wanted. She accepted my confession. I thought it was the start of something beautiful. But in reality, it was the beginning of my nightmare.

Once we were together, Serena became distant. Every date was interrupted by work or an emergency rescue. I never doubted her excuses. Not until our wedding day. That morning, an email arrived from overseas.

It was from Roman.

He had documented their ten-year relationship in excruciating detail. Every moment they had shared, every memory they created together. It was all there. The truth shattered me.

Every time she canceled on me, every time she disappeared, she had been with him. And the worst part? I didn’t even have the courage to confront her. I was terrified she would leave me.

In my past life, after Roman died, Serena had been eerily calm. For a moment, I had foolishly thought that meant I had won. But I never knew how wrong I was.

Even though I was terminally ill and dying, I thought I was the happiest man in the world. Unfortunately, the sudden rush of love clouded my judgment, made me reckless. I stopped thinking rationally.

It wasn’t until I was discharged from the hospital, only to die by her hands, that I finally understood one thing. Serena never loved me. She wasn't risking her life for me. She was taking her revenge.

Because in Serena’s heart, from beginning to end, the only person she truly loved was Roman.

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital ward. But Serena wasn’t there. Instead, an unfamiliar man stood beside me.

"You're awake? I’m your neighbor from downstairs. I went up to check on the fire and that’s when I saw you lying there alone. So I sent you to the hospital."

His voice was filled with concern as he asked, "How do you feel?"

I tried to move my limbs, my entire body sluggish and unresponsive. As I glanced down, I caught sight of the gauze wrapped tightly around me. My hands stilled.

The man hesitated before speaking again, his voice softer this time, "I’m sorry. When the doctors brought you in, they said the burns were severe. Most of your skin..."

I forced a bitter smile.

"It’s not your fault. Even if you hadn’t saved me, I wouldn’t have lasted much longer."

"But … thank you for bringing me here."

Even a stranger could see that I was barely holding on.

Yet, my Serena, who I had been married to for five years, hadn’t even bothered to look at me.

My downstairs neighbor who sat beside me grew agitated.

"I don’t understand what’s wrong with that rescuers. Why didn’t they help you?"

He shook his head in disbelief.

"If I hadn’t gone up there, you would’ve died! Where’s your family? Does your wife even care about you?"

"If you give me her number, I can call her for you. You shouldn’t be alone right now."

"I already reported that rescuer unit. People like them are a disgrace to society!"

I exhaled weakly and whispered, "My wife is dead to me."

My neighbor fell silent, his expression shifting from anger to sympathy. He offered to take care of me until I was discharged, but I refused. Instead, I transferred the hospitalization and surgery fees to him and urged him to leave.

But even after he was gone, the fire wasn’t just a memory. It had become a scandal. In the online world, the story exploded.

The fire at the head of the rescuer unit’s home had become the number-one trending topic in the internet. My neighbor had posted a photo of me lying unconscious on the ground in the comments section. Immediately, the internet erupted in outrage.

People were furious. They questioned whether the rescuer units only existed to put out fires. If that was the case, shouldn’t they just be called firefighting teams? They ignored a living, breathing human being. Was that truly their duty?

I read through the relentless storm of criticism. And yet, I felt it was still too light of a punishment for Serena. I opened my phone, ready to send her a message asking for a divorce.

But before I could, a message from Roman popped up.

It was a photo. He was in the same hospital as me, just a few floors below. And in that photo, Serena was sitting beside his bed, carefully feeding him porridge. She even blew on it gently to cool it down before bringing the spoon to his lips.

Her eyes held warmth. Tenderness. I had seen this picture a thousand times before. And yet, this time, it evoked nothing in me.

I silently closed the chat and called Serena. It wasn’t until the fifth call that she finally answered. Her voice was sharp, impatient.

"You have the nerve to call me?" she angrily berated me.

"What do you want? Are you asking if Roman is dead? Well, I’m so sorry to disappoint you! He’s alive and well, thanks to me!"

"James, I’ve known you for years, but I never expected you to be this kind of person. Do you even realize what you’ve done? You tried to kill someone! Have you lost your mind?"