Chapter 4
I slipped out of the theater before the movie even ended. After making sure no one was following me, I wandered around until nightfall before finally taking the bus home.
On the road leading back to Briarwood Manor, I suddenly noticed a long shadow stretched across the ground.
Nathaniel was smoking under the moonlight, his face hidden in the dark.
I turned on my heel and headed straight for the Brown residence. As soon as I pushed the door open, I saw Catherine flaunting the things she'd gotten with him that day.
She held a wedding dress against her body, looking at me with smug delight. "Bella, you've probably never worn anything this nice, have you? But don't worry, after I marry Nathaniel, I'll hand this one down to you. You can wear it at your wedding."
Then, she showed off a watch on her wrist, parading it in front of me.
The knot of pain in my chest slowly eased into numbness, and eventually, a quiet sense of acceptance settled in.
In my last life, when I married Nathaniel, I'd made almost everything with my own hands. He insisted on keeping things simple, and aside from a cheap bottle of face cream, he didn't buy me anything. Yet now, he was generous with Catherine.
"Oh, by the way, Nathaniel said we're going to have a wedding banquet, too." Her eyes gleamed with pride as she whispered, "These are all things you never had."
I remained quiet, though my hands dug into the chair until the wood creaked.
She had indeed been reborn, too. She knew exactly what my wedding with Nathaniel had been like. She had competed with me her whole life.
And this time, even her marriage had to outshine mine.
To avoid running into Nathaniel, I stayed the night at the Brown residence. When I returned to Briarwood Manor before dawn, I saw cigarette butts scattered all over the ground outside. I had no idea when he finally left.
But after that day, he never came near Briarwood Manor again. Maybe he thought I no longer lived there.
One afternoon, after coming back from the market, I finally treated myself to a proper, hearty meal. With both meat and salad laid out, I was about to dig in when a sharp knock came at the door.
"Open up! Open the door! Bella, I know you're in there, don't pretend you're not!
"I can smell the food you made!"
Even though I had long since resolved to let Nathaniel go, those words tore open every emotion inside me. In my last life, I cooked and did all the chores for him for 40 years. And now, in this life, all it came to was going our separate ways.
I let him pound and shout, even as the neighbors came out to gawk. I didn't open the door or say anything.
At last, he stormed off furiously after being urged on by the neighbors. Before leaving, he threw one last line over his shoulder. "Bella, if you've got the guts, then hide from me for the rest of your life!"
He didn't know I had already decided not to have anything to do with him again.
The days passed, and the wedding drew closer. The day before it, I handed the wedding gift to my mother. "Mom, I'm planning to find a job in the city. I won't be at the wedding tomorrow."
She looked at me long and hard, and when she realized she couldn't change my mind, she sighed and nodded.
The next morning, I went straight from Briarwood Manor to the bus station. But outside, a long line of motorcycles was parked, with Catherine and Nathaniel standing at the front.
In my last life, when I married him, there had been no wedding procession, just a plain meal with the two families. But now, with Catherine, he had pulled out all the stops.
The whole station was crowded with onlookers. Yet despite the spectacle, he looked distracted.
I slipped through the crowd into the station, bought a ticket to the city, and sat quietly in the bus. Through the window, I could see him carrying Catherine on his back, laughing and playing.
The driver shouted, "Anyone headed to the city, get on board! We're leaving!"
My gaze accidentally met Nathaniel's through the crowd. For a moment, he froze.
The bus pulled out quickly from the station.
His expression twisted as he rushed to the ticket counter, shouting, "Who was the woman that just got on that bus?"
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