That last line was actually something Steven had said to me in our past life.
After *that* incident, as I was drowning in grief, he had looked at me with bloodshot eyes and stabbed me in the heart with his cold, sharp words.
“*Zephyra, I truly regret ever meeting you, let alone marrying you.*”
At the time, it had shattered me. Now, looking back, it felt like a distant memory from a life that was no longer mine.
“What did you say?” Steven’s face was a mask of fury, a vein throbbing in his temple. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him, a cold, humorless smile on his face. “You’ll regret meeting me if I don’t divorce you?”
I tried to pull my hand away, but he held fast. I looked at his handsome, refined face and laughed, a thrill of satisfaction coursing through me.
“What, you’re allowed to have regrets, but I’m not?”
A flicker of confusion crossed his face, and my smile widened.
I knew why he was confused. This Steven hadn’t yet reached that point with me. Those were words from a future he hadn’t lived.
It was unfair of me to blame him for the sins of his past-life self, but I was reborn, and some emotions were impossible to suppress. And ultimately, this was his fault. If he had just agreed to the divorce, he never would have heard those words.
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