Reborn, I don’t care my husband anymore

The streets of City A were jam-packed with traffic, the kind that makes your car horn itch to blare but mostly just leaves you stuck in a slow crawl.

I’d been camped out in this café called “Encounter” for two solid hours, holed up in a corner booth that faced the counter.

There was this young girl working behind the bar, decked out in a sky-blue apron that looked like it might swallow her whole. She was maybe 5’3” tops, couldn’t have weighed more than 100 pounds—pale skin, all legs and arms, and she had this smile that popped up like a jack-in-the-box every time someone ordered.

The place smelled like a mix of burnt sugar and strong coffee, and every time the door jingled, a blast of city noise would rush in before settling back into the hum of the espresso machine.

I’d been nursing the same cold brew for so long, the ice had melted into a watery mess.

But watching her flit around—grabbing syrups off the shelf, wiping down the counter with a rag that looked like it had seen better days, laughing at something a regular customer said—made the time feel like it was slipping by instead of dragging.

"Ma'am, would you like a refill?" She approached, her smile dazzling as she spoke.

I must have looked dazed，staring at this young girl so intently. Thankfully, I was a woman myself; otherwise, I might have been mistaken for a creep or a pervert.

"Yes, black coffee again." I returned a polite smile, my voice indifferent.

Soon, she brought me another cup of bitter black coffee. instead of leaving immediately, she hesitated before offering unsolicited advice. "Ma'am, you've already had two cups of black coffee. It's great for staying awake, but too much is bad for your health. Maybe... come back another time to drink more?"

She was kind and outgoing, her voice as clear as wind chimes, tinkling pleasantly.

I glanced at the black coffee on the table, then picked up my bag and stood. "Alright, let me pay."

The girl seemed delighted I'd taken her advice. She hurried to the register and returned. "Ma'am, your total today is 10 dollars. Cash or mobile payment?"

I paid silently and left the café quickly.

"Madam." Iriqe nodded respectfully as he saw me emerge, holding open the car door.

"Let's go home," I instructed with a faint smile.

As the car drove smoothly, I closed my eyes in the backseat, my mind repeatedly conjuring the young girl from the café—her vibrant, youthful face.

Could this be her? The girl who, in a year's time, would make William risk breaking with his family and pay a heavy price to divorce me?

I hadn't expected that the first thing I'd do after being reborn was track down where she worked and spy on her like a voyeur.

"I know," I rubbed my aching temples. "No need to remind me."

Perhaps Iriqe had noticed I was different from previous years, hence his reminder.

But why had I always been the one to give? Why did I have to love that man? In my last moments of my past life, I'd wondered this. For William, I'd ended up losing everything, reduced to a tragic fate.

Lost in thought, the car stopped at the mansion William and I shared—a wedding gift from both our families, a luJohnrious villa on a sprawling estate in a prime location.

To my surprise, William's car was parked out front. He was home.

My emotions were tangled. How should one face the culprit of their past demise after being reborn?

I thought I'd hate William—he'd driven his wife of five years for another woman, even ruthlessly destroying my parents' family.

But seeing him again, I found my hatred wasn't as intense; instead, there was a sense of relief.

In my past life, William had offered a peaceful divorce, promising me shares inOpus Group as compensation—enough to live comfortably for life. But I'd refused. After ten years of failing to win his love, how could another woman enchant him so completely in just a year, making him defy everyone?

I'd tried every means to win him back, only to escalate into a fight to the death.

Now, with those events happened，rather than hate, I longed to change that disastrous ending.

"What are you standing there for?" William sat in the living room, legs crossed casually, a cigarette burned out between his fingers. He stubbed it out in the ashtray and looked up at me, his gaze as indifferent as ever.

On our wedding day, William had made no secret of it—we were nothing more than long-term roommates. He felt nothing for me.

"Nothing, just didn't expect you to be home." I bent to change my shoes: Hermès elephant-gray slippers, simple and understated, comfortable but lacking any charm.

I thought of the café girl's blue apron, adorned with a red smiling flower pin—unique to her.

In contrast, all my clothes were expensive but monotonous, endlessly minimalist and dull.

Suddenly, I loathed those slippers. I kicked them aside and walked barefoot into the living room.

William frowned slightly at my bare feet, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "No shoes?"

"Nope. Just didn't feel like wearing them." I sat across from him, answering flatly.

"Interesting. Had a rough day?" William actually chuckled, asking in an unusually light tone.

Stimulated by your future true love, I thought.

I stared down at my pale feet—too thin, almost gaunt.

Emma was different. Though slim, her skin was firm and supple, not the bony frame I wore like a skeleton.

Five years of a loveless marriage had taken a toll on my health. I'd lost all appetite, growing thinner and more haggard by the day.

"William."

"Hm?" He didn't look up from his phone, dressed in a black shirt and tailored trousers, eJohnding effortless elegance with his tall, lean build. His chiseled features made him every girl's dream.

I tore my gaze from my feet to look at him, my voice hoarse. "Let's get a divorce."

The moment the words left my mouth, I heard William scoff.

He tossed his phone onto the sofa, regarding me with familiar coldness. "Alice, what stunt are you pulling now?"

"I'm serious." I sat up straight, meeting his oppressive gaze head-on. "Five years. You'll never love me. Let's set each other free."

In a month, City A would host a major business conference where William would meet Emma, a part-time hostess, and fall instantly in love, determined to possess her at any cost.

I'd done everything I could in my past life, with nothing but failure to show for it. This time, I wouldn't make a fool of myself or drag the John family into ruin.

I decided to step aside before William met Emma, clearing the first obstacle in their rocky love story.

Perhaps my sincerity showed, for William's expression darkened. He had a short temper and never held back when annoyed.

"Heh, am I just a plaything now?" he sneered, eyes icy. "You begged to marry me five years ago, and now you want a divorce? Alice, are you messing with me?"

Five years ago, the Browns and John families had arranged our marriage during friendly times.

William wouldn't have agreed willingly, but with his grandfather gravely ill, he'd been forced. It was a humiliation for him, but lacking any deep attachments and needing a respectable wife to help with his business, he'd settled for me.

I smiled bitterly. "Do you really want to continue this marriage in name only?"

"Name only?" William seemed to weigh the words, then raised an eyebrow sardonically. "Oh, are you feeling lonely?"

"No, I just..." I searched for words.

But William had already crossed to my side, leaning in with hands braced on the sofa, caging me in. His voice turned suggestive. "Lonely and didn't call me? Threatening divorce instead? Are you that desperate?"

William smelled of cigarettes and a faint, sophisticated cologne. I'd once sniffed his jacket, though he'd never hugged me.

Now, surrounded by that complex, alluring scent, I felt only depressed instead of the expected excitement. My face remained calm.

I was a woman preparing to leave. Any distraction felt like a bad omen.

"That's not why!" I tried to explain. I'd grown used to loneliness over the years.

"Is that so?" William straightened. He had no real interest in me; the earlier flirtation was just to embarrass me. He wouldn't lose control.

At 27, I was a married "old maid," radiating bitterness.

"Alice, I know it's our fifth anniversary, but I have no interest in such things. If you're using this to push for a divorce, don't waste your time." William loomed over me, voice turning icy.

"We've never celebrated anniversaries before. I don't need to start now." I stood to meet his gaze. "Think about it. My usefulness to you must be running out. You need freedom more than I do, don't you?"

Without waiting for a reply, I turned and headed upstairs to the bedroom, done with the conversation.

Downstairs, a door slammed violently, followed by the roar of a car engine. I knew William had left, but this time, I felt calm.

Just then, my phone rang—Yulia, my best friend.

"Alice, let's party at Heaven club!" Yulia's booming voice cut through my thoughts. Around my age, she'd remained single, persistently inviting me out despite my frequent rejections.

"Sure!" I agreed instantly, so quickly that the other end fell silent.

"Wait, it's your anniversary with William. Are you sure you want to go out??" Yulia's voice was laced with shock and disbelief.

I'd used the anniversary excuse to turn her down four years in a row.

"Yep. Anniversaries aren't funerals. I'm on my way." I confirmed, hanging up.

Opening my closet, I faced a sea of white, black, and gray—rarely even a touch of blue. Despite the luxious brands, I'd chosen their most dull designs.

After ten minutes, I picked a slightly less dreary black halter dress—silky, with a deep V-neckline that plunged almost to my navel, cinched at the waist to highlight my too-thin frame, baring my arms and most of my back.

I remembered buying this dress to seduce William, only for him to stay away for a month.

The only downside now was my flat chest, hardly doing justice to the dress's allure.

"Make do with it. I'll eat more later," I told myself.

Dressed and made up, I headed to the garage, grabbing a red Porsche and speeding to Heaven club, a trendy nightclub with a wild, artistic name.

I found Yulia and the others at the agreed bar. In college, we'd been the "Four Musical Talents" with Oliva and Sasha. While Sasha still chased her singing dream and Oliva worked as a vice manager, Yulia had become a nightclub regular, and I'd vanished into marriage.

"A rare guest!" Yulia hopped off her stool, shaking my hand dramatically. The others nodded, equally amazed by my sudden appearance.

For William, I'd abandoned my social life.

After a few drinks, Oliva sighed, "Alice, if you'd stayed away much longer, I'd wonder if I attended your wedding or your funeral five years ago."

A total social death.

"Strange. No candlelit dinner at home?" Yulia peered at me. "Let me check—did that scumbag William ignore you again? Any tears?"

"Stop pulling off my false lashes!" I swatted her hand away.