Divorced, Broke, and Back as His Perfect Wife

After divorcing my unfaithful husband, Yale Gibson, I end up completely miserable. So when we remarry, I become the perfect wife he always wanted. When rumors swirl about him and Willow Leeds, I step forward to clear his name. When Willow falsely accuses me, he turns a blind eye while I immediately take the blame and apologize. Even when I'm set up and brought to the police station, I refuse to call him to bail me out. I simply tell the officers I have no family, letting them lock me up for an entire week. Seven days later, the heavy gates of the police station clang open at dusk. A sleek black Cullinan screeches to a halt right in front of me. Yale strides over, his brow furrowed slightly. "Sarah, why didn't you call me when you ran into trouble?" he asked. I give a faint, distant smile. "It's nothing serious. I didn't want to bother you." A flicker of unease crosses Yale's eyes. He replies, "I was overseas with Willow the past couple of days and didn't check my messages." He pauses, then lowers his voice. "I'm sorry." "It's fine," I say smoothly. "I wasn't expecting you to come anyway. Just focus on what you have to do." Yale stares at me for a moment before suddenly grabbing my wrist. "Why aren't you upset?" he asks. He keeps his eyes on me, confusion flickering in them, along with a hint of unease. I find it almost funny and reply, "Why would I be upset? You gave me an explanation, and I accepted it. There's nothing to be upset about." "Yale…" I look at the man in front of me, completely confused. "Isn't this exactly what you wanted?" Chapter 1 Yale Gibson carried a familiar scent of perfume on him as he spoke. It was sickly sweet with a subtle, icy undertone—the exact scent Willow Leeds always wore. Yale's expression darkened with displeasure. Seeing his reaction, I immediately scrambled to my feet and looked at him nervously. "What is it? Did I say something wrong?" Before the divorce, I had faced the exact same situation. Back then, I was completely lost. When reporters claimed Yale and Willow had spent the night together, my eyes welled with tears on the spot. When I went to Yale afterward to demand the truth, he scolded me for embarrassing him in front of the media. I stormed into his company to pick a fight, only to catch Willow sitting intimately on his lap. He shielded her behind his back and looked at me coldly, then called me unreasonable and accused me of ruining his plans. I refused to back down and demanded a divorce. Little did I know that I would spend the next five years paying a brutal price. I walked away from the divorce with nothing. Without the glittering status of Mrs. Gibson, I ran into rejections everywhere I looked for work. I could barely afford my rent, and whenever I fell sick, I couldn't even scrape together enough money for medicine. Looking back, life by Yale's side had been the best after all. I didn't have to worry about making ends meet, and I didn't have to bow to anyone else's whims. So, when Yale asked me to remarry him, I agreed without a second thought. He froze for a moment, as if he, too, were remembering what happened back then. But he said nothing. He simply pulled a diamond necklace from his pocket and offered it to me. "For you." I glanced at it. It looked vaguely familiar. Two months ago, Yale had his assistant, Jamie Smith, deliver a gift to me on my birthday. It was this exact necklace. Jamie had said back then, "Mr. Gibson has been extremely busy lately, but he still picked out this gift especially for you." And yet, two months later, here he was, giving me another identical necklace. The old me would have confronted Yale with the necklace in hand. I would have cried, demanded an explanation, and agonized over whether he even cared about me at all. Luckily, all I cared about now was his money and the practical perks this marriage could bring me. So, putting on an expression of utter delight, I took the necklace from Yale and held it up to admire it from every angle. "It's gorgeous!" I gushed, looking at him with a grateful smile. "I love it so much. Thank you!" Yale looked surprised. Perhaps he hadn't expected such a response from me. He probably thought I'd act like I used to—either calling him out for being lazy or throwing a fit until he offered an explanation. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, a ringtone abruptly cut him off. It was a familiar sound—a gentle piano melody that he had set as a custom ringtone specifically for Willow. Chapter 2 Setting a unique ringtone for someone was a way of expressing love. I knew that, but I had long since learned not to care. I tactfully turned away, fiddling with the necklace in my hands. My fingers ran over the cold diamonds as I calculated their market value in my head. Willow's soft, delicate voice trickled faintly through the receiver. "Yale, I'm pregnant." Yale froze for a brief second before the shock in his eyes was swept away by pure, overwhelming joy. He said into the phone, "Stay at the hospital. Don't go anywhere. I'll be there to pick you up!" After hanging up, he turned around and met my gaze. "Willow is pregnant…" he said, his voice laced with mixed emotions. "Congratulations," I said simultaneously, a genuine smile spreading across my face. I meant every word of it. The fact that Willow was carrying his baby was actually a good thing for me. Yale might be more lenient with me because of the baby. That would give me plenty of time to plan my exit. But Yale's expression suddenly darkened, and he said coldly, "I don't care what games you're playing. Now that Willow is pregnant, you'd better behave yourself." With that, he got into his car and drove off. I watched him leave in total confusion, trying to make sense of his parting words. Was he reminding me that our marriage was nothing more than a formality, so that now that Willow was pregnant, I shouldn't hold onto any illusions? Or was he hinting that our marriage was about to end all over again? I looked down at the necklace in my hands. The diamonds sparkled brilliantly under the lights, but my heart remained utterly calm. Whatever he meant didn't matter—this necklace was the only thing that was real. Satisfied, I tucked the necklace safely away, grabbed my bag, and took a cab home. Once I sold the necklace and added it to the money I'd already saved, I should have enough to buy that guesthouse in Duston. With that thought in mind, I pulled out my phone and called the owner of the guesthouse, Aaron Lane, again. "Mr. Lane, make sure to keep the place for me, alright? I've saved up enough money. As soon as I wrap things up on my end, I'll head right over." … The news of Willow's pregnancy spread like wildfire to the rest of the Gibson family. For generations, the Gibsons had only ever produced a single son in each generation. That was why Yale's mother, Chloe Aston, had been longing for a grandson for years. Hearing that Willow was pregnant sent her over the moon. She immediately arranged a family dinner for that very night and repeatedly urged Yale to bring Willow home with him. Yale rarely brought me back to the Gibson residence, but this time, he asked me to come along. In the past, I would have refused. After all, none of the Gibsons ever liked me. To them, a small-town girl with humble roots was completely beneath someone of Yale's status. Chloe, in particular, had treated me as a stain on Yale's life right from the start, making things difficult for me at every turn. Willow was different. Though she was a celebrity, she came from a prominent family, making her a perfect match for Yale in terms of social standing. She was exactly the kind of daughter-in-law Chloe had always wanted. Naturally, Chloe was overjoyed about Willow's pregnancy. That was why, when Yale asked me to attend, I nodded obediently. "Alright." By the time my car pulled into the courtyard of the Gibson residence, dusk had already settled in. When I arrived, Yale and Willow were already there. The Gibsons surrounded Willow, showering her with attention. Dressed in a flowy dress, she gently rested a hand over her lower belly. Her face was filled with shy pride, and she carried herself like the lady of the house. Chloe took out an antique bracelet and slid it onto Willow's wrist. "Willow, my dear, this is the Gibson family heirloom. It's meant for our daughter-in-law, and now I'm giving it to you. May it keep our little one safe and sound." Chloe's face beamed with joy, but her smile vanished the moment she caught sight of me. "What are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice dripping with disgust, as if she couldn't wait to throw me out. A glint of provocation flashed in Willow's eyes as she leaned even closer to Yale. Yet, I acted as if I hadn't noticed their hostility at all, keeping a calm, composed smile on my face. Chapter 3 "Chloe, how could you say that? Yale and I have been married for five years without a child. That's my fault. Now that Ms. Leeds is pregnant and carrying on the Gibson family line, it's a true blessing for everyone," I said calmly. My words stunned everyone in the room. The faint smile on Yale's face vanished instantly, and he instinctively loosened his arm around Willow's waist. Even Chloe stared at me in disbelief. "Have you lost your mind?" She had expected me to make a scene and eventually get thrown out of the house. Keeping a warm smile on my face, I set down the gift I had brought. Then, I turned to Willow and said, "Ms. Leeds, this is a little something for you. I hope you like it." In the past, Yale hated it whenever I got jealous and made a fuss. But now, my heart was full of genuine blessings for Willow's pregnancy. I was the dignified, graceful wife he'd always wanted me to be. Surely, he had to be thrilled. I ran my fingers over the divorce papers tucked inside my bag. Hopefully, when Yale was in a better mood, he would sign the papers without a fuss. After all, I didn't want things to turn as ugly as they had last time. To my surprise, Yale's scowl only deepened. He glared at me for a few long seconds, his voice heavy with suppressed rage. "Go find a seat! You're keeping the whole family waiting. Don't you have any manners?" I nodded submissively without defending myself and quietly walked over to an empty seat in the far corner of the living room. A wave of confusion washed over me. Why was Yale still unhappy? Not that it mattered. If he was in a bad mood today, I could just get him to sign them another day. I wasn't in any rush anyway. … Yale spent the entire evening close to Willow, while I watched him dote on her with tenderness from the other end of the dining table. The truth was, Yale used to be just as sweet to me. When my period cramps were at their worst, he'd hold me tight, sniffling as he warmed my lower abdomen. He'd brave the freezing wind and snow for two hours just to bring me the food I craved. He had even lit up the whole city with fireworks and proposed to me under a night sky that burned bright as day. That was why the past five years without him had felt so unbearably painful. Without the title of Mrs. Gibson, I had nothing. To make a living, I washed dishes at a restaurant until my hands pruned white from detergent. I also worked odd jobs at construction sites, where the scorching sun left my skin peeling. At my lowest point, I couldn't even afford a warm meal and could only survive on stale bread. When Yale finally tracked me down, I was working as a waitress at a small diner. A drunk customer was pointing a finger in my face, hurling insults at me, and trying to force me to drink. Yale stood at the entrance in his tailored suit, completely out of place amid the chaos. He looked at me with a complicated look in his eyes. Instead of blaming me, he asked if I was willing to remarry him. I agreed without a second thought, not because I still loved him, but because I was terrified of going back to that life—one where I was poor, desperate, and at everyone's mercy. To repay him for giving me a better life, I tried my best to be the perfect wife he wanted—sweet-tempered, understanding, and never jealous. But even after dinner, I still couldn't find the right time to hand him the divorce papers. Disappointed, I stood by the entrance waiting for Yale so we could head home together, only to learn that he and Willow were staying the night. "You should go home," Yale said. His fringe obscured his eyes, so I couldn't read his expression. I simply nodded and turned around to leave. Just as I stepped outside, his voice called out from behind me. "Sarah?" I turned around and looked at him in confusion. Yale opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He rubbed his brow, looking troubled. After a long pause, he finally said, "Forget it. Just text me when you get home." Chapter 4 I found this strange. Ever since Willow came into the picture, this was the first time Yale had shown any concern for me. Back in the empty villa, I washed up and went to bed early. At one in the morning, Yale woke me from a deep sleep. Before I could even process what was happening, he yanked me out of bed. I rubbed my eyes and forced myself awake. Still groggy, I instinctively asked, "Aren't you staying with Ms. Leeds?" That question infuriated Yale, and the anger on his face instantly intensified. "Sarah, I thought you'd really changed. You're still the exact same person as before—consumed by jealousy and willing to do anything to get what you want!" His words were harsh, but all I did was let out a quiet sigh. After all, he was the boss signing my paychecks now. I grabbed his hand and asked softly, "What happened?" "You have the nerve to ask me that?" Yale shoved my hand away violently. Stumbling off balance, my forehead slammed hard against the edge of the bed. Blood began to gush from the wound. Suppressing the throbbing pain, I looked up at him. "Yale, I don't know what's going on." "Just drop the act!" Yale snapped. He bent down, grabbed a bottle of perfume, and smashed it against the floor. The strong, heavy scent of roses filled the room, making me cough uncontrollably. "You knew Willow was pregnant, yet you still gave her a bottle of rose perfume, knowing full well that she's allergic to it!" He glared at me, his eyes full of accusation. He asked further, "What exactly are you up to? Why can't you stand seeing her happy?" My mind went completely blank. I stared at the broken pieces on the floor in a daze. I had never seen that bottle of perfume before, let alone given it to Willow as a gift. I had never even bought perfume in my life. Yale knew perfectly well that I was allergic to perfume. The moment I caught a whiff of any strong fragrance, I'd start sneezing uncontrollably, and my skin would break out in rashes. If he had just calmed down and thought about it for a second, he would have known it wasn't me. But Willow was carrying his child. Blinded by concern, he would never suspect the woman he cherished most. As a wife paid to play a role, I couldn't expect Yale to remain rational at all times. After all, the boss was always right. So, I remained silent. A wife who wanted to please Yale would never talk back or pick a fight with him. Lowering my gaze, I got out of bed submissively and knelt on the floor covered in sharp glass shards. Blood kept pouring from my forehead, staining the carpet red. "Yale…" Yale's pupils shrank in horror. He lunged forward, scooped me up, and placed me on the bed. "Are you crazy? The floor is covered in glass!" Yale shouted. I froze, thinking that I must have misheard him. Why did I hear a tremor in his voice? I reached for his hands again. "Yale, I'm sorry. I'll apologize to Ms. Leeds. Please don't be mad at me, okay?" I pleaded. The forgiveness or scolding I had expected never came. Instead, Yale went still. He fell silent for a long time before finally lifting his eyes to look at me. There was confusion and doubt in his gaze. Slowly, it turned into something I couldn't quite wrap my head around—panic. He probably couldn't understand why the woman who used to pick fights, scream at him, and demand answers had suddenly become so understanding—to the point she felt like a stranger to him. He just stared at me in silence, the panic in his eyes growing stronger by the second, as if he felt he were about to lose something precious. I couldn't figure out what Yale was thinking, nor did I know what I was supposed to do. The thought of him getting angry and taking back what he'd given me terrified me. I couldn't bear the idea of falling back into those dark, miserable days. I gritted my teeth. He already spent the money anyway. There was no way he could take it back, so I might as well end things right here and now. With that thought, I pulled out the divorce papers I had prepared long ago and held them out to him. With Yale staring at me in panic, I said, "Yale, I'm willing to divorce you. Just please don't take back the money you gave me."