Remarriage Failed Again Today

[The reason was that Aaron Wyatt was right there in front of us. She wanted him to go in and save Annabelle Linton to create a misunderstanding... and like the moron I am, I fell for it!

I walked into the warehouse and saw them hugging and crying, having cheated death. I turned around and left on the spot. Annabelle Linton tried to explain, but I sarcastically told her I’d only saved her because I was afraid I couldn’t answer to Grandpa. But that wasn’t true.

Because I heard it loud and clear—the me in the dream threw Vivian Yates to the ground and told her that Annabelle Linton was my wife, my responsibility.

I’m always like this. I want to cherish her, but my temper gets in the way. I want to care for her, yet I’m the one who pushes her away.

...It’s the same now, and I regret it so much.

But why don’t I have any memory of this dream at all?

Was I hypnotized by Vivian Yates again? No.

But what on earth is going on? I have no idea either.]

Annabelle Linton pressed her lips together.

’It seems this dream of Leona Grant’s is progressing chronologically.’

In this lifetime, they had only been married for two years. This event happened later, so he hadn’t experienced it.

...Leona Grant was really having a strange dream.

Strange, yet so real.

’So, it was That Witch Yates’s scheme again.’

She could finally let the matter go. Although the explanation felt a bit contrived, she no longer blamed Leona Grant.

’No one was at fault.’

She clicked to the next page.

[The scene changed again, and I was at the entrance of the old family home.

I learned from Grandpa that it was our third wedding anniversary. But Annabelle Linton and I never made it to three years. We were married for two and a half years at most... and we’ve been divorced for several months.

In the dream, Annabelle Linton and I went to Crouching Tiger Villa, which Grandpa had arranged. As soon as we arrived, I drove off the moment she got out of the car. She dejectedly went back to her room.

Meanwhile, I drove for a bit before pulling over. I took out a gift, looked at it for a moment, and then tossed it out the window. After that, I watched a video on my phone of Annabelle Linton sobbing her eyes out and cursed her for being so fickle—crying like that over some man, yet still pretending to be happy in front of Grandpa.

Who was this man the me in the dream was talking about?

Aaron Wyatt?

It had to be him. Don’t ask how I know. Fuck.

That night, the me in the dream returned to the villa, intending to take Annabelle Linton home. I found her asleep in the bathtub. I was about to lift her out, but she muttered Aaron Wyatt’s name in her sleep.

I fucking hate that name!

In a fit of rage, I turned on the shower to wake her. When Annabelle Linton woke up, I insulted her for overestimating herself and trying to seduce me. She tried to explain, but true to form, I just turned and left.

Thinking I was so cool? Fucking psycho.

...I’ve never seen anyone shoot themselves in the foot so spectacularly. I really can’t figure out what the hell I was thinking back then—

Why the hell did I leave? I should’ve just fucked her. Fucked her until she couldn’t even recognize her own mother. Such a perfect opportunity, tsk tsk.

(Annabelle Linton: "...")

Annabelle Linton got in the car, her hair still dripping. In the dream, I got angrier the more I thought about it. Just then, Vivian Yates called, saying she’d been in a car accident and needed me to come.

I seized the opportunity to kick Annabelle Linton out of the car and went to a bar to drink by myself. What the hell did I care if Vivian Yates lived or died?

When I was done drinking, it had started to rain. The me in the dream called for someone to go pick her up, only to find out that Annabelle Linton had already collapsed.

I rushed to the hospital, and even while unconscious, she was still calling Aaron Wyatt’s name. Son of a bitch!

I stormed out, slamming the door. And who would’ve thought? Vivian Yates was in the room right across the hall... What a ridiculously small world. Goddamn it.

I couldn’t just ignore her without losing face, so I went in to check on her. Then, I saw Annabelle Linton out of the corner of my eye and started being deliberately gentle with Vivian Yates just for her to see.

Pathetic.

Annabelle Linton drank herself into a state of gastric bleeding. The me in the dream, furious that she wouldn’t stand up for herself, assumed she’d done it over Aaron Wyatt. I cursed her to her face, telling her she might as well be dead, but then I stayed up all night taking care of her.

Are any of these things real? If they are...

Then please, allow me to make a sad face.]