Fulfill Your Guilt Chapter 1

The second I was reborn, I signed the divorce papers without a moment's hesitation.

Terry Vance's mistress was all over the news. To save her from the "homewrecker" label, he’d come to me with the papers, his voice pleading.

"Leo died saving my life," he'd begged. "Molly is his only sister. I can't just abandon her. You understand that, don't you?"

Years ago, Terry had been targeted by a business rival. His car’s brakes were cut. In the final, spinning moments of chaos, his best friend, Leo, had thrown himself into the driver's seat, wrenching the wheel.

Terry walked away without a scratch. Leo bled out on the asphalt, his last breath a plea for Terry to look after his little sister, Molly.

For years, Terry had honored that debt, showering Molly with a devotion that bordered on obsessive.

In my last life, when I realized he was willing to sacrifice me for her, I shattered. I tore the divorce papers to shreds.

But it ended the same way. The stomach cancer diagnosis came later. By then, I was ready to let Terry go, to let myself go. But Molly’s whispered words, "Do you think she's faking it just to torture you, Terry?" sealed my fate. He became convinced I was lying, that my illness was just another manipulative game. To escape the media storm and finalize our split, he framed me for cheating and sued for divorce.

Hopeless, I ended my own life.

* * *

"Vivian, we'll tell the public we were planning to divorce a year ago. We’ll say we kept it quiet for personal reasons."

I was staring into a glass of water on the restaurant table when Terry’s voice cut through my thoughts.

Just yesterday, the paparazzi had released photos implying Molly was his lover. The word "mistress" exploded online, and a tidal wave of hate crashed down on her. Terry Vance, CEO of Vance Corporation, was branded an adulterer, and the company's stock plummeted overnight.

In my last life, I’d laughed at those grainy photos, scoffing at how easily the public could be misled. My laughter died on my lips the moment Terry slid the divorce papers across the table. It turned into a bitter, endless irony. I had screamed at him then, demanding to know what was real and what was a lie. There were a million ways to handle a baseless rumor, yet he chose the one that threw me to the wolves.

"Vivian," Terry’s voice pulled me back to the present. "Trust me, this is just for show. Once the dust settles, we'll get married again."

I slowly lifted my head, my gaze falling on the document between us.

"You have to understand, Vivian. I'll make it up to you when this is all over, I promise." He wrapped an arm around me, his eyes, so often lauded for their depth and sincerity, searching mine. He softened his voice, a low, cooing tone he used when he wanted something.

I remained silent. Standing beside him, Molly looked ghostly pale, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Vivian, please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm begging you, please help us."

"My brother is gone. I have no one else… I don't know who else to turn to. Please."

With that, she went rigid, as if to drop to her knees. Terry moved like lightning, catching her by the waist and pulling her into his arms.

"What are you doing?" he hissed at Molly, but his sharp, irritated glare was fixed on me. "I've already made my decision. I expect you to cooperate at the press conference tomorrow. Or else—"

"I'll sign."

I cut him off, tired of watching their pathetic charade.

And I knew exactly what "or else" meant.

In my last life, not long after I tore up the papers, I was drugged and photographed in a compromising position with a stranger. The "evidence" of my affair was leaked. Overnight, I went from being the victim to a reviled slut.

And they, the ones truly at fault, walked away clean, their reputations scrubbed spotless.