Chapter 3

I was genuinely baffled. I didn't understand why she was reacting so strongly to that.

Deleting your ex after a breakup is completely normal, isn't it?

Besides, I had a very gorgeous, very possessive wife waiting for me. If she found out I still had my ex-girlfriend's contact info, she would definitely tease and torment me for days.

"Didn't you say back then that you hoped I would never contact you again after we broke up?"

Fiona’s face went pale. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she forced herself to stay quiet.

I kept my tone entirely neutral and added, "And I don't need any buyout money. Keep it."

Having her pride wounded repeatedly in front of everyone made Fiona’s face turn even darker. She said coldly, "Are you still trying to play hard to get with me? If I didn't see how pathetic you look right now, I wouldn't even waste my breath on you."

Julian patted her arm soothingly. "Fiona, sweetheart, you're just too kind. If you ask me, why even bother with a guy like him? Just look at him. He’s a charity case who can't even stand on his own two feet."

His voice was dripping with condescension. He seemed to have completely forgotten that ten years ago, he was far more pathetic than I could ever be.

In our past life, the only reason Fiona’s parents refused to let her be with Julian was because he was a drop-out, a lowlife who constantly got into trouble with the law.

The first time I met Fiona in college, she had just bailed Julian out of a local police station, and her family was forcing her to break up with him.

During the darkest, most depressing period of her life, I was the one who stayed by her side, helping her pull herself together.

She loved photography, so I used the money I had saved to start my own business to buy her high-end camera gear that cost tens of thousands of dollars.

Through the freezing winters and scorching summers, I carried fifty pounds of equipment behind her, doing everything I could just to see a genuine smile on her face.

Who would have guessed that Fiona was actually the one who confessed to me first?

I knew about her past with Julian, and I had seen her staring longingly at their old photos.

So, when Fiona confessed her love to me, I had looked her in the eyes and asked her very seriously: *Have you truly let go of Julian?*

Back then, she had hugged me tightly, her voice filled with absolute certainty.

"He is in the past. I finally see who truly cares about me. Ethan, I love you. Let's be together."

We dated for seven years. Even her best friends were shocked.

"She was so obsessed with Julian, I honestly didn't think you guys would last this long," they had told me.

But what nobody knew was that Fiona had rejected my marriage proposals countless times behind closed doors.

"Ethan, I don't believe in marriage. Why can't we just stay like this forever?"

It wasn't until her parents practically forced her hand that she finally agreed to marry me.

Yet, during our honeymoon, when the news of Julian’s fatal car accident reached us, she jumped off the cruise ship without a second thought. She left nothing behind but a suicide note.

The entire note was a confession of her undying love for Julian. There wasn't a single word, not a single letter, meant for me.

At the very end of the page, written in her own blood, were the words:

*Julian, I only ever wanted to be your bride. I'm coming to find you now.*

My love for her had turned to absolute ash at that very moment.

So, when we were reborn and Fiona demanded a breakup, I didn't try to stop her.

Because I knew there was no point in holding onto someone who was already gone.

Watching them get back together, I deleted Fiona from every single social media platform, assuming we would never cross paths again.

Yet here we were.

I wanted to leave, but Julian refused to let it go, determined to humiliate me in front of the crowd.

"You really went through all this trouble just to get Fiona’s attention, didn't you? Wearing rags like this... I bet you don't even have a job to feed yourself."

"Tell you what. I can pull some strings and get you a job here as a busboy. If you learn how to serve people right, you could make a decent living."

An eager-to-please guest nearby laughed and added, "This hotel is prime real estate in San Francisco. Being able to work here is a massive upgrade for someone like you. Hurry up and thank Mr. Sterling!"

Surrounded by the crowd, I sighed, feeling completely trapped. "Thanks, but I already have a job."

"I'm a photographer."

The moment the word "photographer" left my mouth, Fiona’s gaze instantly snapped to me. A complex wave of emotions rushed through her eyes, and her lips parted slightly.

But she quickly looked away, her voice icy. "How much can photography even make? You can't turn a hobby into a career. Since we used to know each other, I can talk to my HR department and get you a real corporate job."

I blinked, instantly realizing she had completely misunderstood.