Joel stared at me like I'd lost my mind.

"What are you saying? You want a divorce? Over a house?"

"Yes."

My voice cut through the room like a blade.

Laurel and Maya had been eavesdropping in the living room. The moment things escalated, they came barreling through the door.

Laurel planted herself next to Joel and rolled her eyes at me.

"Leila, I don't like to meddle, but if I'd known you were this selfish, I never would've let Joel marry you."

Maya stood there with red-rimmed eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tugged at my sleeve.

"Leila, please don't do this. I'll give the eight hundred thousand back to Joel."

"I'm not even their real daughter. They shouldn't have to sacrifice so much for me."

"I'll just... I'll leave. I'll figure things out on my own."

She turned away, chin trembling with theatrical resolve, and started toward the door.

Joel lunged forward and caught her wrist, pulling her back.

"You're not going anywhere."

Laurel gathered Maya into her arms and stroked her hair.

"You may not be ours by blood, but we raised you for over twenty years. This is your home."

"That eight hundred thousand? Consider it a gift. I'm making the call for Joel."

"And Leila, if you insist on making a scene, you can start by returning the hundred and eighty thousand we spent on your bride price and the two hundred thousand for the wedding banquet."

Joel pulled me aside. His eyes were strained, his jaw tight, as if he were the one being wronged.

"Leila, you weren't like this before. You told me once that as long as you could marry me, you'd do anything."

Yes. Before. I'd loved him so much that every sacrifice tasted sweet.

And what did it get me?

He signed our apartment over to Maya behind my back. Every birthday gift he ever gave me was a fake.

This family had no room for me. Not even the baby I carried for ten months. My child was born dead.

He registered Maya's illegitimate child under my name, and I spent seven years as a stay-at-home mother raising a kid that was never mine.

In my last life, I ended up homeless, and I died by slamming my head into a wall.

When I didn't respond, Joel pulled me tightly into his arms.

"Come on, it'll be fine. I'm about to get promoted. I'll pay it all back sooner or later!"

As he spoke, he reached into his suit pocket with practiced ease and produced a small red velvet box.

He opened it right in front of me.