Lorina had always said that she dreamed of a marriage that would shine like a jewel before everyone.

A second marriage to a divorced man did not belong in that glittering dream.

Someone in Athern’s high society would surely mock her, saying Lady Winclaire had become a second wife. Others would whisper that she had stolen her friend’s husband.

Therefore, Eliza could not be divorced.

She had to die.

Lorina was confident she could dress up her remarriage to James as a romance between a grieving widower and his late wife’s friend, who had stayed by his side to comfort him.

Eliza only realized it at the very end—but Lorina, whom she had believed to be her only friend, was a woman capable of anything to get what she wanted.

On the outside, she was beautiful, elegant, cheerful—the perfect noble lady.

In truth, she was close to a sociopath.

But whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, Eliza survived, though her entire body was paralyzed. Under James’s silent consent, Lorina abandoned her in a suburban villa so she could die alone.

Just remembering those days brought Eliza pain.

The agony of poisoned tea sliding down her throat, burning her flesh.

The endless days she spent lying there, fully paralyzed, slowly withering away.

But worse than the pain of her body—more wretched than anything—was the pain in her heart.

In her previous life, she had spent every day staring at the ceiling, thinking again and again.

‘How did it come to this?’

‘Had James never loved even a single part of me?’

‘Did my love mean nothing? We were husband and wife, sworn before God…’

That suffering did not last forever.

As if by a miracle, someone appeared and helped Eliza recover.

James came to regret everything too late and wanted her to return to him, but she could not accept him. The wound of his betrayal was too deep.

Even so, what tormented her most was the truth that, even as she rejected him, some part of her heart still wanted him.

It was an emotion that felt like the entrance to h*ll.

James was probably punished as well.

Because Lorina, furious that he could not forget Eliza, poisoned his tea too.

Lorina was ruined for attempting to m*rder her husband, but Eliza found no comfort in their misery.

By then, everything in the world had already lost its meaning and worth.

“Good heavens, Eliza. Just how foolish were you…?”

Eliza could now look at herself more objectively.

She could never again walk down that path of ruin.

She would not give James unconditional love and sacrifice.

She would not trust Lorina as her friend and behave so innocently.

This chance at life had been granted to her with such difficulty.

She could not waste it by becoming their fool again.

“But how…?”

Eliza took a deep breath and agonized over it.

How should she make precious use of this final chance?

The conclusion was surprisingly simple.

“…I have to leave James.”

In truth, the very first thought that came to her mind had been how to protect him.

‘If I can just separate him from Lorina, maybe everything can still be changed.

But now she knew.

Her husband had never truly loved her.

James Ashton had been born into a poor commoner’s family. Living among nobles and the wealthy, he had developed a deep inferiority complex about his status. That was why he had thrown himself so obsessively into his work.

He justified it by telling himself his success was for his wife and his family—but in the process, he had forgotten his wife entirely.

That gap was exactly where Lorina had slipped in.

Becoming the son-in-law of the Winclaire family promised him a place in the high society he had always dreamed of.

There was no way that anything she did now could make James turn away from such an overwhelming temptation.

Eliza remembered all too clearly how, in her previous life, every effort she made to win back her husband’s drifting heart had ended in vain.

And Lorina was not someone to be taken lightly.

Lorina Winclaire was a woman who would do anything to have James, which meant that as long as Eliza remained by his side, she could never be safe.

So the conclusion was simple: She had to sever ties with James.

Clinging to that relationship again would only mean becoming the person she used to be.

But as she bit her lip, another problem surfaced.

‘James will never agree to a divorce.’

In this world, there was no such thing as divorce due to incompatibility. And there were no other grounds for separation between them. As it stood, James was still considered a dutiful—if indifferent—husband.

Eliza considered every possible option, but none of them were realistic.

In the end, only one choice remained.

‘I have to run away.’

The thought startled her into stillness.

And then doubt crept in.

Lorina would never tolerate James being known as a pitiful man whose wife had fled.

She would sooner send the suspicious men under her father’s command to hunt Eliza down—and poison her.

If anything, Lorina would likely have her mourning dress prepared in advance.

‘But if James becomes the victim…’

Eliza found a way.

A way to become the “bad wife.”

A way for James to be seen as the wronged party in high society.

And in the process, a way to secure her own advantage as well.

The answer lay in his study.

In the safe inside James’s study.

If she emptied it and fled, everyone would sympathize with him.

And a woman immoral enough to steal her husband’s fortune and run away—was not someone worth retrieving.

James was soon destined to succeed in a risky investment, gaining immense wealth and prestige. Enough for the count to want him as a son-in-law.

In such a situation, he would hardly chase after her just to recover the money.

And the idea of dragging her back to demand an explanation—his towering pride would never allow it.

“…Ha.”

Eliza realized she had found her answer.

A crooked one.

She would empty the safe, run away, buy a small house in the countryside, and spend the rest of her life there.

This time, instead of loving a man, she would love herself.

She would find the things she truly enjoyed and live for them.

She would finally achieve the “small but certain happiness” she had never known as Lim A-young—no, something far greater than small.

As she thought about it, she realized something new: a person could feel fear and excitement at the same time.

That money in the safe was not some fine imposed on James.

It was the alimony she rightfully deserved.

It was compensation for the ruin he had left inside her heart.

Eliza pressed a hand to her chest as her heart raced wildly.

She, who had never even stolen a single piece of candy, could not calmly accept the idea of stealing her husband’s fortune and vanishing without a trace.

She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself with slow breaths—then shook her head sharply.

“No… I’ll do it. I have to. This time will be different.”

And in that moment, Eliza realized something had changed.

She was no longer the powerless woman she had once been.

She now stood in a position of advantage—over Lorina, and even over James.

Unlike before, when she had only vague hints like Lim A-young, she now knew everything—their future actions, their choices, even the things James and Lorina themselves did not yet know.

This was a gamble she could not lose.

Only then did Eliza manage to breathe steadily.

A faint hope rose within her, along with a strange thrill at the realization that, this time, she held control over her life.

A subtle smile curved her lips as she murmured softly,

“Goodbye, James.”

***

James Ashton’s daily schedule ran with the same precision as his personality.

He woke every day at four-thirty in the morning to prepare for work. To him, holidays were nothing more than dates marked in a different color on the calendar.

After washing up, he would enter the dressing room, where the shirt he was to wear that day would be hanging crisply on the stand—prepared as though it were waiting for him.

James considered it only natural that his wife personally handled anything that touched his body.

The maid, Marie, could never achieve the same level of perfection.

Unless there was a special occasion, he wore cufflinks according to the day of the week. His suit and tie varied depending on his schedule or mood, but the shirt—always had to be prepared by his wife.

Once dressed, he would go down to the dining room.

Eliza would be waiting for him there.

They would share a light breakfast before leaving together by carriage.

In winter, it was still pitch dark at that hour.

The meal itself was prepared by the maid, so James never believed he was burdening his wife in the slightest.

He had no idea what kind of effort—what kind of quiet struggle—it took for her to be seated there at exactly five-ten every morning, looking perfectly composed.

That was the kind of man he was.

A cold man who knew nothing.

Even when his wife had nearly been poisoned by his mistress—even when she had been left paralyzed and abandoned in isolation—he had simply taken comfort in the fact that he had not dirtied his own hands.

And turned away.

That day, as always, James washed up and entered the dressing room.

But the moment he saw that the stand was empty, he stopped in his tracks without realizing it.

After taking a moment to confirm that he had not seen wrong, he immediately turned and pulled open the wardrobe doors. A crease had formed between his once-smooth brows.

Inside, the shirts Marie had washed and ironed were hanging neatly in a row.

He took out the shirt at the very end and looked down at it in dissatisfaction.

A shirt merely prepared like this, a shirt his wife had not pressed into perfect shape herself!

James himself did not know it, but whenever something displeased him, a rather sharp air settled around his eyes. The employees at the bank feared the crease that appeared between his brows.

But instead of calling for his wife, he put on the shirt in his hands with a pained sense of grievance.

He did so while summoning what little understanding he possessed, telling himself that things must have been hectic after she collapsed.

Then he went down to the dining room.

And there, he witnessed an unbelievable sight.

His wife, who should have been sitting in the seat across from him was not there.