My husband killed himself.

Just because his white moonlight found his amputated limbs disgusting.

Before dying, he demanded burial near his white moonlight, just to see her constantly.

And me, his wife who stood by him for years, got only massive debts and bitter accusations.

"Margaret Williams, if I hadn't saved you back then, would I be a cripple?"

"If you have any conscience, after I die, care for my parents and Anna Roberts. Give them ten thousand dollars monthly."

My in-laws cursed and beat me, wishing I'd die with Keith Rivera.

Yet memories flashed clearer before my eyes.

Keith became disabled saving Anna—I dug him from corpses myself.

I bankrupted us paying his medical bills, drowning in debt.

Ten years of devotion repaid like this.

A crushing blow hit my skull.

Everything went black.

I woke back on Keith's accident day.

Feigning ignorance, I boarded the business flight abroad.

This life, I won't even glance his way.

"CEO Williams, emergency! Earthquake in Hawaii!"

"Mr. Rivera arrived yesterday—we can't reach him now."

I'd just entered the airport when my assistant rushed over with a phone.

That moment, rebirth felt real.

Like before, Keith's crisis struck as I left for the cross-border deal.

Last life, I chose Keith and enraged our partners.

Cost us the billion-dollar project, crippled our company.

Blinded by Keith, I watched my own firm collapse.

Now, executives behind me watched nervously.

They knew Keith meant everything to me.

Someone urged, "CEO Williams, the deal—"

"Move out."

I strode ahead, then turned back:

"From now on, don't report Keith's affairs to me."

They froze, then followed, shock plain on their faces.

Everyone knew my obsession—how I chased Keith despite his coldness.

If Keith needed me, I'd drop anything.

Let alone life-or-death emergencies.

Only at takeoff did they relax.

……

Talks lasted seven days. We finalized every detail.

The team flew home smoothly.

Landing, I powered on my private phone after a week.

Red notifications exploded—Keith's circle frantically calling.

Scanning casually, I headed to the hospital.

Keith lay on the hospital bed, wrapped head to toe in bandages, an empty space where his arm and leg should be.

In the past life, since I rescued him in time, he'd only lost one hand.

After waking up then, he'd screamed and cursed like a madman, utterly unable to accept his condition.

I wondered if he could handle injuries ten times worse this time.

Lisa Rivera sat by his bedside, exhausted tears falling.

"He's been unconscious for seven days."

"The doctor said being trapped under the rubble too long caused severe internal damage."

"With this much amputation, prosthetics won't work. What are we to do?"

"How could this happen to my healthy boy?"

Lisa shouted furiously, "Who did this to my son?"

In the past life, she'd raged the same way:

"My son was meant to be a painter! How can he live without his right hand?"

"If I find that vixen who ruined him, I'll make her pay."

Back then, Keith's injuries were less severe, and he'd regained consciousness earlier.

Hearing his mother's words while still reeling from losing his hand, he suddenly yelled:

"I got hurt saving Margaret!"

I froze. Why would he say that?

Didn't he get injured rescuing Anna?

But Lisa acted like she'd finally found the culprit, slapping me twice across the face.

"You vicious bitch! Just because my son doesn't love you, you'd try to kill him?"

I couldn't respond, just staring blankly at Keith.

Was he confused from the trauma?

But then he stopped Lisa, turning to grasp my hand.

"Mom, I want to marry Margaret."

"With me like this... she's the only one who won't despise me."

Lisa paused, then snorted coldly.

"She caused this, so she should take responsibility. She'll care for you the rest of your life."

After Lisa left, Keith pulled me into a sudden embrace, choking up:

"Margaret, please don't be mad. I said that so my parents would approve our marriage."

"If they knew I did this for Anna, they'd force me to marry her."

"But I don't love her anymore. You saved my life—I only want you."

Foolishly, I believed Keith's lies.

I abandoned my company, devoted myself to his recovery, and ordered custom prosthetics costing a fortune.

When he murmured about painting again, I sought out specialists worldwide, accompanying him through years of rehab.

When he regretted failing his parents, I bought them luxury cars and villas to live out their days in comfort.

Even when drowning in debt myself later, I never shortchanged the Rivera family.

Yet ten years later, when Keith finally picked up a paintbrush again...

His first move was to find Anna, hoping to rekindle their relationship.

She recoiled at his residual limbs, calling them disgusting.

Unable to bear the rejection, he chose suicide.

With his last breath, he cursed me: "If only you'd arrived sooner that day, I wouldn't be like this!"

"You ruined me! Did you think destroying me would make me stay with you?"

"Dream on, I'd rather die than let you have your way."

He died, leaving me with massive debts and demanding I provide for his parents and the woman he loved.

But he never imagined his parents would beat me to death.

When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn—this time, he won't get his way.

At that moment, Keith on the hospital bed struggled to open his eyes.

"Where am I?"

"What... what happened to me?"

His face was still wrapped in bandages, seeing nothing.

Lisa immediately rushed over and gripped his hand.

"Hawaii earthquake. You were buried three days before they dug you out. Lost your right hand and left leg."

"Internal organs damaged too. How did this happen? Why'd you go to Hawaii?"

Keith's body froze solid. But in a flash, he roared with sudden fury:

"Impossible! How could I become a cripple?"

"Mom, are you insane? I'm your only son! How could you curse me like this?"

Michael Rivera walked in then, turning away with pained expression:

"Why would your mom lie? Tell us now—how did this happen?"

"No! Impossible! I'll never be a cripple!"

Keith snarled through gritted teeth. Suddenly, he ripped off his bandages.

Facial wounds tore open. Blood instantly gushed down, horrifying to see.

Yet he seemed to feel no pain, just kept repeating: he wouldn't become useless.

Suddenly, he spotted me. Hatred flooded Keith's eyes as he stabbed a finger at me.

"Margaret! Was this your doing?"

He laughed coldly. "Think I'd believe such lies?"

"Or did you imagine I'd date you if I thought myself crippled? Dream on."

"You bitch. You'll never have me."

Arrogant fool. I snorted coldly.

"See for yourself if your limbs are still there."

Keith's curses choked off. Like rusted machinery, he slowly looked down.

Only when seeing the empty pant leg did reality strike him like lightning.

His right arm burned at the slightest move. Beneath the hospital gown—no hand.

Keith finally knew: his parents hadn't lied. He truly was crippled.

"No... impossible... how?"

"How can I be crippled? I'm going to be a painter!"

"Anna's waiting to paint with me! How can I be crippled?"

But Lisa seized Keith's shoulders, shaking him violently.

"Son! Tell Mom—did that vixen Anna do this? Mom will make her pay!"

Keith jolted rigid. Anna's name acted like sobering tonic.

He spoke rapidly.

"It was Margaret. I became like this saving her."

"It was you, you bitch! My son ended up like this saving you, and only now do you show your face?"

Lisa flew into a rage, lunging at me with claws bared.

I couldn't help but scoff. How ridiculous—what did any of this have to do with me?

I'd done nothing wrong, yet they were pinning this baseless accusation on me?

As her palm swung toward my face, I seized her wrist and shoved her back.

Our families were neighbors. Out of respect for elders, I'd always treated the Rivera couple courteously.

But their endless torment in my past life had long eroded my politeness.

They deserved none.

My voice turned icy. "I've been in New York all along. Last week I was on a business trip to England. When did I ever go to Hawaii?"

"At least keep your lies somewhat believable."

"If not you, then who?"

Lisa refused to hear reason, snarling:

"Who else but you—that shameless homewrecker clinging to my son—would harm him?"

"Anna—"

"Shut it."

Keith cut me off mid-syllable, turning to his parents.

"Mom, Dad, step out. I need to speak with Margaret."

Grumbling, the elderly couple left.

Keith's gaze remained venomous, yet dripping with condescension.

"Margaret, admit you owe me for taking this injury to save you," he demanded, humiliation flashing across his face as if bearing unbearable injustice,

"and I'll agree..."

He swallowed hard.

"...to marry you."

"Hahaha..."

I burst out laughing, meeting his furious stare with scorn.

"Keith, do you actually think you're some prized treasure?"

My eyes raked over him in disdain. "Why would I willingly shoulder blame for something I didn't do?"

"You did nothing, yet want me indebted for life? To guilt-trap me forever? Think that'll work?"

"Or..." My lip curled. "...you imagine I'd want you like this?"

"I'm not insane enough to marry a cripple."

With that, I swung around and strode out.

The suffocating resentment I'd bottled up for so long finally released—exhilarating.

"Margaret! How dare you?!"

Keith's impotent roar shredded the air behind me:

"Wasn't it you begging to marry me? Now that I'm finally saying yes, how dare you refuse?!"

"Margaret! Get back here!"

His screams tore through the corridor. I never glanced back.