I'm Reborn, but My Obsession With Him Is Not

Meanwhile, Juliana and Zachary had only known each other for one month.

I recalled the lines in his autobiography, where he had written that every single day spent in my company had been sheer agony and torture.

It was then that my final flicker of resentment was extinguished completely, replaced by a profound, consuming weariness.

I looked at Zachary and stated earnestly, "I'm serious about getting a divorce, so let's just move on with our lives separately, Zachary."

…

In the end, Zachary opted not to return home that night, taking up residence in the single dormitory at the factory instead.

I, on the other hand, didn't seek him out. Instead, I was preparing to sell my position at the factory.

It wasn't long before this information circulated and became common knowledge across the factory floor, and I was met with expressions that simultaneously conveyed scorn and profound pity.

"Have you heard the news? Serenity's getting kicked out!"

"Isn't it because Mr. Smith and Ms. Ziegler are about to make things official?"

"It's about time a country bumpkin like her figured out where she stood."

They naturally assumed I was Zachary's relative from the countryside who came to the city to stay with him, since he had never spoken of our real relationship. I had tried to clarify before, but I held back, fearing that it would hinder Zachary's career.

Hearing their gossip now, I merely smiled faintly, saying, "You're absolutely right. I, the country bumpkin, have given up the dream of climbing high. I'd much rather return to the ease of the countryside since city life is so dull."

They had no idea that I wasn't conceding, though—I was merely choosing a completely new direction for my life.

In my past life, I had desperately tried to bridge the intellectual gap between us. I studied relentlessly, earning a university degree and then even a master's.

Yet, even as an engineer, Zachary still saw me as the same old country bumpkin whose conversation never strayed beyond domestic minutiae, so much so that he would rather speak to the mute parrot at home than have a single conversation with me.

In this life, I wanted to live my life on my own terms. I had planned to wait until the position was sold and the money was in hand before going to Zachary to finalize the divorce procedures, and then we would end it completely.

Yet, an urgent call immediately disrupted all my plans—Mom was in critical condition with a fractured leg that required two thousand dollars for medical treatment.

I was instantly overcome by dread, thinking that, though I had sold my position in the factory for 3,200 dollars, the official transfer and funds would take at least two weeks to process. I knew that Mom couldn't wait that long.

It was then that I spotted Zachary, just emerging from the factory floor. I couldn't care about anything else at that moment, as I rushed over and blocked his way, exclaiming, "I need two thousand dollars this instant! It's an emergency, Zachary!"

In an instant, everyone's attention immediately zeroed in on us, their faces alight with curious scrutiny.

Zachary's cheerful expression instantly faltered. "How could I possibly have that amount of money on me?"

I knew he was lying. I had been earning 480 dollars per month, and aside from the 120 dollars I kept for household expenses, the rest all went to him. In any case, no matter how extravagantly he spent, it was impossible that he didn't have two thousand dollars on him.

I looked at him with bloodshot eyes, my voice wavering and bordering on a cry. "It's my mother. She's been injured—her leg is fractured, and she's in the hospital right now waiting for the money for treatment!

"I really need that money now! I have been giving you my salary all these years, so there's no way you don't have any money on hand!"

Zachary furrowed his brow, feeling utterly mortified from the surrounding workers' gazes. He hissed under his breath, his voice dripping with impatience, "Have you not made enough of a fuss yet, Serenity? I already told you that I don't have the money!"

I stared intently at him, my heart sinking bit by bit. "I have been giving you 360 dollars every month for the past six years. How can you possibly claim not to have two thousand dollars right now?"

Zachary's eyes flashed with impatience as he retorted curtly, "Do you not know how much you've eaten or spent all these years?"

In an instant, the surrounding factory workers erupted in loud laughter, and jeering remarks rose and fell in quick succession.

"Serenity lived off Mr. Smith and stayed under his roof, and now she just asked for two thousand dollars straight up! How utterly shameless of her!"

"I think she was provoked by Ms. Ziegler and came here intentionally to pick a fight!"

I looked at Zachary, who, true to form, made no attempt whatsoever to defend me.