Her pitiful state shattered my resolve. I took the blame. I gave up eight years of my life.
And when I was released?
She picked apart my every flaw. When her career tanked and she ended up as an extra for the third time, her resentment boiled over. She blamed me for "ruining" her chance to marry into wealth.
Then she killed us both.
Eight years of sacrifice, rewarded with murder.
I spoke into the silence of the room. My voice came out flat. Dead.
"Fine. Let's break up."
Stunned silence on the other end. Then a sneer cut through.
"You were reborn too? Perfect. Saves me the trouble of inventing an excuse to dump you."
She hung up with a violent *bang*.
This was the pivotal year of her life. She had been chosen by a famous director, poised to explode into stardom with her next film.
I rubbed my thumb across the phone screen. A cold smirk tugged at my lips.
This was the most important year of my life, too.
In the original timeline, the stocks I traded had skyrocketed. I had already negotiated a partnership with angel investors. My own company was within reach.
But I had foolishly used my capital to buy Natalie a supporting role in a drama destined for massive success. That role launched her career.
For the next seven years, she produced nothing of value. She squandered her reputation and became a nobody.
And from start to finish, she never knew that money—her buy-in—came from me.
I dialed the investor.
"Mr. Dickerson," the voice on the other end said. "We're in."
My heart settled. Everything was ready.
Just then, my phone screen lit up with a notification.
Natalie posted an update to her feed.
*Since I caused your pain, I will spend my life making amends.*
Attached was a photo of her tending to Carter Walker at his hospital bedside.
She had clearly staged the shot. "No-makeup" makeup. A form-fitting white dress designed to look innocent yet alluring. Her delicate features glowed more dazzling than a carefully arranged bouquet.
In such a short time, she had not only persuaded Carter not to press charges but had also maneuvered herself into the role of his personal caretaker.
I chuckled darkly.
Carter Walker wasn't known for his benevolence. He was a shark. I was genuinely curious to see if she could achieve her delusional "rich wife" dreams now that she had kicked away her stepping stone—me.
A week later, negotiations with the investor concluded smoothly. The project was greenlit.