My wife pretended to be crazy and killed me. After rebirth, I sent her to be a roommate with a real lunatic. Chapter 1

For a decade, I drained every last dime I had, sacrificing everything to care for my wife who went insane after a car accident.

When her fits hit, she’d throw anything she could get her hands on at me, leaving me bruised and bloody. Then, when she cleared up, she’d cling to me, sobbing uncontrollably.

My friends all told me to divorce her, but I always remembered: she pushed me out of the way of that car. That’s how she hit her head and ended up like this.

Until the day she accidentally hit me so hard, I was critically injured. My soul floated up to the ceiling.

From there, I watched her carefully adjusting the collar of her childhood friend.

“What are you crying for? He’s dead. Shouldn’t we be celebrating?”

“But I feel for you, Victoria. You faked insanity for ten years just to drain all his money.”

She leaned in, her lips finding his, her voice chilling.

“Ten years of holding back. Finally, I don’t have to touch that loser anymore.”

Turns out, that car accident was a setup, a perfectly orchestrated charade.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my wife was diagnosed with psychosis.