Chapter 4

That was the voice note I recorded on my eighteenth birthday, ten years ago.

The bright, youthful voice echoed off the walls of the massive master bedroom.

The smug smirk on Julian's face froze solid.

He snapped his head around, staring dead at the shattered tablet.

A voice recording from ten years ago couldn't suddenly upload into a modern cloud backup.

Unless it was syncing in real time.

"Where the hell did you get an AI clone of your teenage voice?"

Julian marched over and stomped down hard on the tablet screen.

The glass pulverized completely under his heel.

He spun around and jabbed a furious finger at my face.

"Summer, you're out of your damn mind!"

"You think this pathetic guilt trip is going to change anything?"

"Let me tell you something—successful men mess around outside all the time. It's normal!"

Chloe chimed in right on cue.

"Exactly, Summer! Who plays the submissive tradwife anymore?"

"You can't even carry a child. Why are you clinging to the title of Mrs. Cross?"

"Chloe can give me an heir. What the hell can you do?" Julian snapped coldly.

I stared up at his expensive Italian shoes.

"Ten years ago, you swore you'd rather die childless than watch me suffer through the pain of labor."

"Now you brought your mistress to our marriage bed."

"Julian, you make me want to vomit."

Julian lost what was left of his temper and scooped Chloe into his arms.

"Clear this room out."

"Tomorrow, throw Summer down into the basement."

"A pregnant woman needs a proper suite to rest. I won't have a lunatic bringing bad luck to my child."

With that, he carried Chloe out without looking back once.

The heavy door slammed shut, plunging the world into dead silence.

I lay there flat on the floor, every single bone in my body screaming in pain.

This was the ten-year marriage I bought with my shattered legs and abandoned dreams.

Like a dog, I dragged myself toward the corner to reach the tablet.

Whether the person on the other end was a hallucination or real, I had to tell my eighteen-year-old self:

Don't cancel that ticket.

Go to Paris.

Just as my trembling fingers touched the pulverized screen...

A faint blue glow pulsed from beneath the cracked display.

The glass was shattered, but the motherboard was still alive.

A new message popped up through the broken pixels.

It was an image.

In the photo, a torn airline ticket to Paris was being carefully pieced back together with clear tape.

Then, a flurry of frantic text messages flooded the screen.

[Eighteen-Year-Old Summer: I went through his phone.]

[Eighteen-Year-Old Summer: He wasn't meeting investors. He was sexting his ex.]

[Eighteen-Year-Old Summer: He told her that the second he secured my family's trust fund, he would dump me immediately.]

My breath hitched.

Ten years ago, I never knew any of this!

Because twenty-eight-year-old me had typed "RUN," eighteen-year-old Summer grew suspicious.

She checked his phone.

The gears of destiny had been forcefully derailed.

The past was shifting.

A ragged, hysterical laugh tore from my throat.

Tears mixed with blood dripped down onto the shattered glass.

Everything Julian owned today—his billion-dollar empire—came from me selling my deceased parents' heritage brownstone to fund his dream.

If eighteen-year-old Summer never stayed...

If eighteen-year-old Summer took her money and boarded that plane to Paris...

Julian wouldn't be a billionaire. He'd be absolute nothing!

He would still be drowning in the massive predatory loan debts his ex had saddled him with!

I wiped the blood from my eyes.

Ignoring the glass cutting deeper into my raw hands.

I used every ounce of strength left in my body to type my reply on the broken keyboard:

[Twenty-Eight-Year-Old Summer: Take your ticket and fly to Paris.]

[Twenty-Eight-Year-Old Summer: Pull every single penny of funding from him. Right now.]

The green checkmark lit up, signaling the message was delivered.

Suddenly, outside the bedroom doors, Julian's panicked, frantic roar echoed through the hall.

"What the hell do you mean?! How could our entire capital credit line just collapse?!"