Dumped the CEO, Now He Begs for My Love

The day I ended up in the ER, coughing up blood, Ronald got engaged to his precious first love.

I called him three times. I couldn't get that surgery without his signature, but he just declined every call.

The pain in my stomach was tearing me apart. I laughed bitterly, "Five years of marriage, and this is how heartless you are..."

At noon, the big screen blared with their engagement footage-fireworks, cheers, loud music-while I lay there alone, dying on an operating table.

In that foggy haze, I suddenly heard someone shouting my name.

"Isabella, Isabella, wake up!"

I snapped my eyes open, still feeling that suffocating pain all over me. Turning my head, I saw Sophia Harrison standing by the bed, face full of scolding.

"Isabella, if your stomach's not that bad anymore, you really should go home. Today's your anniversary with Ronald!"

"I bought some ingredients. Go bake him a cake-he'll be super happy!"

Looking at her all bright-eyed and eager, I froze. I grabbed my phone, glanced at the date-2025. I'm... back?

Exactly this day in my previous life, I was out shopping with my cousin Sophia, getting ready for my first wedding anniversary with Ronald. I had a sudden stomach attack on the street, passed out, and ended up in the ER.

The hospital contacted Ronald, but he never came.

Back then, I told myself he was just busy. I made excuses for him and still went home with a smile to bake that cake. I waited all night. He never showed.

I took a deep breath, eyes sharp.

No way I'm playing the lovesick fool again. This time, it's Ronald's turn.

I did decide to go home, but not for him-just because I hate hospitals.

Last life, I died from late-stage stomach cancer. I suffered so much in that place, now just the smell of antiseptic turns my stomach.

Sophia didn't notice anything weird. She helped me down the corridor, chattering about what kind of cake Ronald might like.

I just walked quietly beside her.

Then, out of nowhere, a stunning woman in a lab coat walked past us, speaking gently with a patient in a hospital gown.

She had this serene smile, calm and gracious. Really gentle.

My eyes locked on her, and for a moment, I spaced out.

She was the one Ronald could never forget. His so-called true love.

I'd only ever seen her in photos before. Seeing her in person-yeah, she was gorgeous and sweet. Even I could understand why she left such a mark on him. No wonder he was so obsessed, willing to do anything to have her.

Whatever I was supposed to get as Ronald Wright's wife, she got it all-tenfold.

All except the title. That's the one thing I held onto, because my dumb pride just couldn't let go.

I loved him way too deep. For five years, I lost myself in that love. Gave him everything, clung to him like he was my whole world.

I even once took a knife to my throat just to make him stay.

He just gave me this look-full of pure disdain. "Isabella, cut the act. If you've really got the nerve, die. I'll make sure you get the fanciest coffin money can buy."

Then he walked out the door. I collapsed on the floor, crying.

I didn't slash my throat, though.

I went for my wrist instead-because that way, I could feel the pain a bit longer.I held onto a tiny hope-what if he didn't leave completely? What if he came back soon, felt guilty seeing I hurt myself, and started treating me better?

If he came back, I'd let the past go and just live happily ever after with him.

But I passed out from the blood loss before I saw anything else.

When I came to, I was in the hospital.

I was so relieved, I rushed to ask the nurse if my husband brought me here.

She just shook her head and said it was Linda Smith, our housekeeper, who found me while doing her usual cleaning. Ronald never even showed up.

That same day, I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer. Not long after, I died alone in that hospital room.

"Hey Isa, what are you zoning out for? Hurry up, Ronald's getting off work soon."

Sophia's voice abruptly yanked me back from those memories. The girl he loved was long gone-now it was just Sophia, standing there, pouting.

"Sophia, do you seriously mean it when you say congratulations?"

Sophia blinked, caught off guard, but quickly put on a confident face. "Of course I do."

I stared at her doll-like face that screamed naïveté. All I could do inside was scoff.

Yeah right, if she really cared, she wouldn't be bugging me to bake a cake when I clearly wasn't feeling well.

She had a thing for Ronald. Always had. I was just the excuse she needed to stay close to him. I knew this in my last life too, but back then, I stayed quiet for the sake of family.

But now? I'm done pretending. I'm not keeping up appearances anymore. Let it all fall apart.

I yanked my hand away from hers, my face iced over.

"He's not coming home tonight. I'm not baking anything. So keep your congratulations. Go do whatever you want."

Sophia stared at me like I'd just slapped her. Shock written all over her face.

"What's wrong with you, Isa? Why are you so mad all of a sudden?"

My dad always told me to be the bigger person, let my little cousin win. So I rarely threw fits at her.

But now? I gave her a calm smile.

"Mad? Nah. My stomach's killing me and you're still pushing me to bake. Anyone else would think you were the one excited for our anniversary."

Her expression instantly darkened. There was a flicker of guilt in her eyes, though her voice stayed stubborn. "Jeez, can't I crave cake without getting accused? Whatever, if you're feeling sick, I'll just head home. No need to bite my head off."

And with that, she turned and stormed off, face tight with annoyance.

I couldn't be bothered. Honestly, her drama didn't affect me anymore.

I dragged my aching body back to that huge, empty house.

Back in the first year of our marriage, I was all about the romance. Thought it'd be just the two of us, no need for a maid. Never expected Ronald to pretty much live elsewhere, and I'd end up in this mansion all by myself.

Now, of course, there was still no one here to cook for me.

I forced myself to heat up a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Just something warm to calm the sharp pain in my gut.

It worked. My stomach finally didn't feel like it was at war with me.

Last lifetime, I couldn't keep any food down. Even something as simple as this plain canned soup tasted like heaven now. I couldn't help but sigh, "Being healthy really is the best."

Seriously, stay away from love-it only brings misery. Makes you so miserable you can't even enjoy eating.

This second chance? I'm gonna protect it. No way I'm repeating the past.

Bowl empty, I stood up to do the dishes. That's when a man in a suit stepped into the dining room, his face cold as ice.

I froze. That face was all too familiar.

Ronald?

He disappeared for a whole night in my past life. So what's he doing back now? And with zero warning?

"You're back?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, my voice even trembling a little.

I didn't expect it-seeing him didn't spark rage, resentment, or even the obsessive love I had in my past life. Instead, I just felt... released.

And honestly, it had been forever since I last saw Ronald in person. He still looked just as sharp-tall, cool, and way too good-looking for his own good. Honestly, even a dead woman like me couldn't deny his looks. But my heart? That thing was long over it.

He gave me a once-over, then glanced at the bowl on the table, his eyes darkening with clear dissatisfaction.

Then he suddenly started walking toward me, giving off that suffocating pressure he always had.

My breath caught, and I instinctively stepped back a couple of paces, watching him warily.

"What are you trying to do?"

The truth is, at this point, we were only in our first year of marriage. He hadn't fully fallen for his so-called true love yet, and I hadn't even done anything wrong. Logically, he shouldn't be too harsh on me.

Still, just those two steps back made one thing very clear-I didn't want to be near him anymore.

Ever since I made up my mind to let everything go, not only did I stop craving his attention, I downright avoided it.

He frowned a bit at that, like he didn't get what I was doing, then curled his lips in a mocking smile.

"Isabella, you pulled out all the stops to get me back, and now you're acting like this? Who's the performance for?"

I blinked. "What are you even talking about?"

Get him back? I would've been happier if he never came at all.

His brows furrowed deeper. Suddenly, he reached out, gripping my chin tight. Those blue eyes of his held a dangerous glint.

"Still pretending? Wasn't it you who teamed up with your cousin to tell me you were dying, just to make me come back?"

Pain shot through me like a bolt. His grip was crushing-I felt like my jaw might break. I tried to slap his hand away.

"I didn't! I had no idea she did that. It must've been her acting on her own."

I used to love him so lowly-on my birthday, holidays, anniversaries, I never once pushed him to come home. Even now, after dying once, there's no way I'd do that.

He scoffed. "Your cousin sticks to you like glue and you didn't know? Come on, Isabella. Quit the games before you push this too far."

Looking at his cold, handsome face twisted in impatience, I couldn't help but laugh bitterly in my head-laugh at myself.

In our last life, our marriage started off as two strangers under one roof. He flat-out ignored me. I tried everything to melt that frozen heart, but the more I tried, the more he pulled away.

When I finally discovered just how deep his feelings ran for someone else, I lost it. Did all sorts of things just to keep him around, and in the end, he couldn't stand me.

I always blamed myself, told myself I wasn't good enough. That's why he didn't love me. But now, in this life, I didn't do a thing. I just came home with a stomachache and made myself a bowl of soup on our anniversary-and he still looked at me like I was a bug.

Turns out, it was never about what I did. He just didn't like me. Period.

I shoved his hand off and stood up straighter, locking eyes with him. And then, for the first time, I said it.

"Ronald, let's get a divorce."

His expression froze, clearly caught off guard. Then his face twisted into a sneer.

"Do you even know what you're saying?"

Of course I did. If I had a choice, I'd rather have been reborn before marrying him.

I glanced down at the calluses on my palm. For him, I gave up everything. From a successful, spoiled young woman to a full-time housewife who did nothing but cook and clean for him.

I poured in everything. Gave up everything. And in the end, I was the only one moved by it."We got married for family reasons, right? You never liked me anyway. So what's the harm in cutting ties and letting each other go?"

His expression turned ice-cold in an instant. He actually snapped, towering over me with that intimidating six-foot-two frame, the pressure almost suffocating.

"You were the one begging to marry me. Teary-eyed in front of Grandpa, going on and on until I had no choice. And now you say you want a divorce? Just like that? What do you take me for?"

He grabbed my chin roughly, his eyes like frozen steel. "Was I just some toy to you, huh?"

Forced to meet his gaze, my heart thudded out of nowhere.

Yeah, it was a political marriage, but let's face it-my family was way below his. If it weren't for the bond between our grandfathers and that childhood engagement, I wouldn't have stood a chance with him.

Ronald was always dead set against arranged marriages. If his grandfather hadn't been sick and forced his hand, I never would've become his wife. So me asking for a divorce now? Yeah, I see how he might be pissed.

"I'm not playing you, I'm serious. I saw that doctor you like. She's beautiful, sweet. You two make a good match. If we split, doesn't that clear your way to be with her?"

I said it on purpose. I wanted to push him a little.

His precious dream girl was leaving the country soon. Once she's gone, he'll realize just how hard he's fallen. He'll go all in-chasing her, fighting for her, not letting go.

And I? I'm the cliché toxic wife from some melodramatic soap opera. I can't repeat my past life mistakes by clinging to someone who doesn't want me.

This time, I check out first, before love screws me over again.

Ronald's expression darkened in a flash. His eyes narrowed in on me. "You saw her? So that's why you're acting so different. What, you trying to blackmail me or something?"

He kept closing in. I backed off fast, heart pounding, 'til I hit the wall with nowhere left to go.

He thought I was using his soft spot against him? That mentioning her was a threat?

I stiffened, quickly shook my head. "Have I ever blackmailed you? In a whole year of marriage? I just want out."

"You're never around, always working late. I've basically been living like a widow. Sure, I liked you-hell, maybe I still do-but I can't be stuck in a marriage like this forever. I don't want to turn eighty and still be a virgin. You ignore the one you've got and won't even go after the one you want. Aren't you tired of living like this? 'Cause watching you, I am."

He braced one arm on the wall beside me, leaning down close. He's got that annoying height-just a tiny tilt of my head and our lips would touch.

Before, I'd probably be ready to faint from excitement. Now? All I feel is dread crowding in.

He clenched his jaw ever so slightly, like he was biting back a snide comment. "So. a lonely widow, huh? Guess you're awfully desperate since I don't touch you."

His words slapped the color right into my face. I blushed hard and hissed, "That's not what I meant!"

In our last life, he couldn't divorce me fast enough. Even when I called him while dying, he ignored me. So this time, I'm telling him I want the divorce-and he's pissed? Thinking up all sorts of crap and dragging it out?

Ronald flicked my chin with long fingers, his gaze flicking across my face before closing the distance.

I went rigid without thinking.

He smirked. That cool, mocking curve of his lips.

"I don't care what you really think. You don't get to just start and stop this marriage like flipping a switch."

"If you're really that lonely, go flirt with someone or get a damn toy and sort yourself out. Just don't make a mess that stains my name, and I don't care what you do."

"Stay away from her. If I ever catch you messing with her, I swear, your life's gonna be hell."

Those words hit like a slap in the face. So that's how he sees me? Just some crazy, jealous woman from the start?

I glared at his cold, handsome face, biting back my bitterness. "Wow, not only are your ears broken, but your brain's probably fried too. If I wanted to hurt her, would I really blow up my own game like that?"

"I'm done arguing with you. Tired, honestly. Just want to make it clear-I'm getting out of this marriage. I'll explain things to Grandpa, won't drag you into it, but you better think this through."

Then I pulled my hand free and went straight upstairs, not even bothering to clean up the dishes.

A loud door slam followed a few beats later. Ronald must've stormed out.

I let out a long, tired sigh. Even after coming back to life, his words still cut deep. Thank god it's just a sting now, not like last time-when it tore me apart.

I downed my medicine and got ready to lie down and clear my head. Just as I settled in, my phone lit up.

It was my mother-in-law. I pressed my lips together and picked up. "Hello? Lisa."

Her loud, energetic voice blasted through. "Isabella, have you been taking those herbal remedies I got you? And the other natural stuff?"

I stared at the pile of untouched herbs in the corner, still wrapped up. "Yep, almost all gone."

Lisa Wright immediately perked up. "Really? Any signs yet? Feeling different? Could be pregnant?"

I sighed. A whole year of marriage and she's been on my back about a baby since day one.

With the divorce around the corner, I really didn't want more drama. "Lisa, pregnancy depends on fate too, right? If it's not meant to be, can't really force it."

I tried to explain nicely, hoping she'd drop it. But of course, no such luck.

"Don't give me that 'fate' nonsense. Isabella, get real. Look at yourself-looks, background, skills-what part of you even matches up to my son?

"I only agreed to this marriage so you'd give us a baby. You think you're some kind of princess now?

"If you're just going to sit there like a broken machine, then step aside. Plenty of women are dying for a shot at this family."

Her rant finally pushed me past my breaking point.

I used to be the perfect daughter-in-law for her-ultra polite, super obedient. I even treated her better than my own mom. She humiliated me constantly about not getting pregnant. But I put up with it, all for Ronald.

But now? Don't even want Ronald anymore. Why the hell should I care what she thinks?

"You think having a baby is up to me alone? Ever use your brain and take a good look at your precious son?

"Yeah, he's got the looks, the family, the job. but too bad he can't even get it up.

"Been married a year and I'm still a virgin. How do you expect a baby when your son's thing can't even function?

"You want a grandkid so bad? Want me to find someone else and pop one out for you? Hell, I'd do it-question is, dare you take that baby in?"

Dead silence. Guess she didn't expect me to clap back.

"You-you're vulgar! Can't have a baby and now you talk back too?"

I let out a cold laugh. Classic Lisa-can dish it but sure can't take it.

"I said it already-your son's the one with the problem."

"You've got all this time to nag me with tonics and baby talk, maybe go take your boy to the doctor. And while you're at it, get your brain checked too."I hung up right after I finished talking and even switched off my phone, then flopped onto the bed with a big sigh and rolled around like a kid.

Man, this feels so damn good.

Getting divorced really does feel like freedom unlocked. Once you give up caring, life gets a whole lot easier.

From now on, anyone who wants to put up with this kind of crap can go right ahead-count me out.

After an exhausting day, I passed out quickly. When I woke up, it was already ten at night.

I went downstairs. The whole villa was pitch dark, like I expected-Ronald didn't plan on coming back, just like last time around.

I smirked, not surprised at all. Quietly, I cleaned up the dishes and made myself a fancy dinner.

I'm never starving myself again for someone else. That's just plain stupid.

After I finished eating, I packed my stuff without a second thought and left the place I'd once poured my heart into. I checked into a hotel for the time being.

Tomorrow's big-I've got divorce to handle, and another super important thing I can't afford to mess up.

Success only, no plan B.

Next morning, I was woken up by a call from Ronald.

"Isabella!" he practically growled through his teeth, "What did you say to my mom last night?"

Still half out of it, I rubbed my head and tried to recall the chat I'd had with his dear mother. and before I could help it, I burst out laughing.

"Didn't you already get the memo? Why bother asking?"

"Oh right, any idea when your mom wants to drag you in for a check-up?"

He didn't respond right away, but I could easily picture him-face dark, probably throwing death glares.

Sure enough, he finally spoke again, voice low and chilly.

"Isabella, save your tricks. Doesn't work on me. I'm not interested in sleeping with you."

I stretched lazily and turned over, completely relaxed.

"Please. Don't flatter yourself. I'm not dying to sleep with you either."

He snorted coldly. "Let's hope it stays that way. Where are you? And why the hell isn't breakfast ready?"

I snapped my eyes open, grinding my teeth.

This guy treats me like garbage but still expects me to cook for him like clockwork?

Not gonna lie, I used to care way too much-Ronald never liked breakfast, and I was so worried about his stomach I busted my ass learning how to cook right. Irony? I ended up with the digestive issues.

We might've had a dead marriage, but he actually loved my cooking. I used to take that as a sign, that maybe deep down he still cared.

Now I know better. He saw me as his full-time, live-in maid.

Well, news flash-I'm done cooking for him. For good.

He must've gotten impatient waiting for my reply.

"You gonna answer or what?"

I said flatly, "Go to the second floor. There's something on the table."

A moment later, I heard him coming up the stairs. His voice, cold and annoyed, followed.

"Why are you being so difficult lately? I say one thing, you do the opposite. And why is breakfast on the second floor? You know I always eat on the-"

His footsteps suddenly stopped. So did his rant.

It was like he just vanished into thin air.

There was a long pause on the other end before Ronald spoke again, voice sharp and heavy.

"Isabella. what's with the divorce agreement?"

Before leaving last night, I left two copies of the papers on the table. No point dragging this mess on.

In my head, I could almost imagine his face right now-tight-jawed, and probably looking like he swallowed a lemon.

I felt strangely calm. Honestly? Even kind of proud.

"Exactly what it looks like. I've signed it already. Don't worry-I'm walking away with nothing. Not a cent from you."

"From now on, you go your way, I'll go mine. Marriage over. Let's make sure we never see each other again."