Chapter 1 Reborn in 2014

It was the end of 2044. In my 50s, I, Tiffany Mayfield, was nearing the final chapter of my life. Breast cancer had spread through my body. My husband, Shawn Hartwell, spared no effort in finding the best doctor to save me, but I had already given up. For three days, I refused to eat or drink. After 30 years of marriage, I didn't want to see his face before I left this world. Lying in the hospice bed, I shut my eyes tightly. Footsteps approached. I knew it was Shawn and our daughter, Yuna Hartwell. The doctor's voice was solemn. "She's refusing food. There's not much time left." Silence filled the room. My consciousness began to drift away. Then, I heard Yuna's voice, deliberately hushed. "Mom is finally leaving. When are you planning Queena's wedding?" After a moment, Shawn replied, "Let's wait. At least until after the funeral." Yuna sighed. "Mom spent her whole life enduring. I wonder what kept her going. She should have divorced earlier instead of making herself sick." Upon hearing her words, I felt bitter. I had stayed in this marriage to let Yuna have a complete family. I just wanted to ensure that no one would look down on her when she got married. But now, my persistence felt like a cruel joke. It didn't matter anymore. Soon, I would leave this world that had worn me down. I just wanted to be free. "She looks calm, but she's stubborn—hurting herself and others," Shawn murmured. Hurting myself and others? That was an accurate way to put it. "Queena has suffered too. She spent half her life with you, without a name or title. But at least she's finally getting what she deserves," Yuna said with a sense of relief. "Yes, I owe her too much. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her," Shawn admitted, his voice heavy with guilt. Tears filled my eyes and spilled over. So that was how it was. All the years I spent giving my all meant nothing to them. Instead, the woman who had stepped into my marriage, enduring silently for years, was the one they remembered and sympathized with. A faint ringing echoed in my ears. My body felt drained, desperate for rest. Then, a sharp light hit my eyes, and I blinked my eyes open. A familiar voice, filled with disapproval, reached me. "Tiffany, wake up. Yuna is almost done with class." I abruptly stood up and turned around, only to see my mother, who had passed away years ago. She was standing by the window, pulling back the curtains to let the sunlight pour in and reveal a lush garden outside. "Tiffany, still daydreaming? Go pick up Yuna now." She walked over and lightly patted my arm teasingly. "Were you up late reading romance novels again? I've told you so many times not to exhaust yourself. I'm still hoping you and Shawn will have a second child soon." "Mom ... " The dazzling light softened. Seeing my mother again, I instinctively grabbed her hand, felt its warmth, and clung to it like a precious treasure. "Mom, is it truly you? How did you get here?" She looked startled by my reaction, then curiously reached out to touch my forehead. "Tiffany, did you forget everything after sleeping? You were bored, so you asked the driver to bring me here from our hometown to stay for a few days." Her words unlocked memories buried deep in my mind. It was 2014, shortly after May. My mother had taken some time off, and I had arranged for the driver to bring her from our hometown to Hanzora so she could stay with me for a while. Could it be ... "Alright, stop acting strange. Go pick up Yuna. Shawn will be home for dinner tonight. I need to start preparing the fish," she said, heading downstairs. I took a deep breath and looked around. It was the villa Shawn had bought after we got married. In 2014, Yuna was already six and in kindergarten. Shawn, a local in Hanzora, managed the family business. As the eldest son, he had led the company exceptionally well, earning admiration from many. People often praised me for marrying a young, capable, and successful man. I stepped onto the balcony, letting the warm sunlight wash over me. So I was reborn for a second chance? Oh, thank God for sending me back to 2014! My past life was complete trash. This time, could I change it? Not far away, a group of young people played tennis on the community sports field, full of life and energy. I rested my chin in my hand for a while before suddenly laughing. Maybe my prayers had been answered after all the times I visited churches and made wishes. Taking a deep breath, I checked the time—3:40 p.m. It would take about 30 minutes to drive to Yuna's kindergarten. That had been my daily routine as a housewife. But today, I wanted a break. Yuna was my daughter, but she wasn't just my responsibility. I picked up my phone and called Shawn. His familiar, youthful voice came through. "What's wrong? Aren't you picking up Yuna?" I leaned back on the couch and casually lied, "I'm not feeling well. My stomach hurts. Can you go get her?" "I have a meeting. Can your mom go instead?" "My mom's busy cooking. You know I can't handle killing a fish. Just send the driver to pick her up." As long as I avoided picking up Yuna, Shawn would always find a way. "Alright, I'll have someone pick her up." Without another word, he ended the call. I rose from the couch and headed to the walk-in closet, stopping in front of the mirror. It reflected a young woman in a loose, casual outfit. Shawn wasn't drawn to me because of my good personality. It was purely because of my alluring face and figure. No one would have thought that someone as accomplished as Shawn had his shallow moments, too. He could be seen as a gentleman. After getting together with me, he was always courteous and never picked a fight. If we had disagreements, he would reason with me or withdraw in silence, but he never acted rough or crudely. He never swore, remained composed at all times, and handled situations smoothly. I remembered our wedding night. He had a drink before coming to bed. When he saw me in a mermaid dress, his eyes revealed both excitement and possessiveness, yet he still asked politely if he could touch me. I admired him. Though he didn't take me with overwhelming passion like other men might, my wish was still fulfilled that night—I became his wife in every sense. I held onto beautiful hopes, picturing a future where we spent every day together, raising children and building a life. He earned money while I took care of everything at home. But dreams and reality always seemed to be separated by an invisible line that could never be crossed. Five years into our marriage, he took a mistress. Her name was Queena Tackman—his assistant and closest confidante. He once told me she was his greatest support, someone who could stand beside him in battle and face his enemies. He couldn't live without her. Now, they had been together for over a year. In my previous life, I had been completely unaware during this time. But in this life, I had chosen to let go—both of him and myself. I would embrace my future with this mindset: "Cherish him—he's the only one who gives me money without asking me to repay with something like my body."