I Ended Up Living Next Door to My Ex-Husband

The day I witnessed my husband’s infidelity, I found myself in a novel, possessing the body of the main character’s obsessive, crazed ex-wife. “Rebecca, I told you not to touch me without permission.” I quickly granted him a divorce, under the condition I could live in the neighboring mansion for safety. But then… “The moment I decided to divorce you, I regretted it. And my foolishness for not realizing you had fallen out of love with me.” “Rebecca, I want to win back your heart.” …Duke, I said I’d live next door, not that you should regret. “You’ve suffered a lot because of me.” With those soft words, Rebecca released their entwined hands. “Take care, Cedric.” In that moment, what lingered with Cedric was not her departing touch but an unexpected emptiness. ‘Rebecca left. With another man.’ The scene of the two embracing haunted his mind. His fist clenched, veins bulging on his hand. ‘Rebecca, you can’t leave me yet.’ Even if she were to leave, not like this. At least for the time she promised to remain in this castle… He deserved at least a slim chance to hold onto her. “Answer me. Were you really planning to run away with another man?” “Say it was to punish me. I can bear that much.”