Set me free Chapter 1

In my past life, when my husband, Julian, got cancer, everyone hid it from me.

To set me free, he started cheating, verbally abusing me, and giving me the silent treatment.

I couldn’t take it anymore and finally agreed to a divorce.

That’s when his friends, perched on their moral high ground, told me the truth about his "selfless" intentions and his terminal diagnosis.

I fell apart and killed myself to be with him.

But after I died, Julian was saved. A miracle.

I watched, a disembodied soul, as he sobbed at my grave. And then I watched as his friends convinced him to move on, to rebuild his life, to marry the woman he’d cheated on me with.

So when I found myself back at that party, and Julian jokingly said, “Let’s get a divorce,” I didn’t get angry.

I just said, very calmly, “Okay.”

* * *

The moment I said it, a strange, heavy silence fell over the room.

The lavish private suite was suddenly quiet, but I didn't seem to notice. I just kept my head down, calmly eating the dessert in my bowl.

Julian's hand, which had been holding Isabelle’s, slowly released its grip. His handsome face, moments before joking about being in love with someone else and wanting a divorce, was now a rigid, ugly mask.

He clearly hadn't expected me to say that.

Or rather, he knew how much I loved him. He thought that even a joke like that would make me panic, get angry, maybe even cause a scene.

How could I possibly have said "Okay" so calmly?

His friends, each with their own ulterior motives, exchanged uneasy glances. The little drama they had orchestrated, expecting to see me humiliated and crying, had just crumbled. The plot had taken a ninety-degree turn, leaving them all scrambling.

But I didn't feel any satisfaction.

I calmly looked from one face to the next, my gaze finally landing on Isabelle’s striking, beautiful features.

In my last life, I considered her my best friend. But I had forgotten one crucial detail. She and Julian had been inseparable since they were kids. The same fierce loyalty she showed me in public was matched by the deep, painful stab she delivered to my back when it mattered most.

Isabelle looked a little uncomfortable under my stare. She glanced instinctively at Julian. He was glaring at me, his jaw tight, his face a thundercloud.

Her own expression flickered with something dark for a second. Then, she pasted on a bright, cheerful smile and came over to grab my arm. "Hey, Lena, don't be mad. It was just a stupid joke that Alex came up with. We were just messing with you."

I took a step back, avoiding her hand. My face was expressionless. I looked at Julian. "But I'm not joking," I said. "Seriously, Julian. Let's get a divorce."