Chapter 4 His Calls No Longer Have Power

I turned to look at Shawn. It had been years since he'd shown any real concern for me, and I almost found it laughable. But, of course, his worry wasn't about me—it was about maintaining his wife's image. "What's wrong with my outfit?" I asked, unwilling to stay silent this time. Shawn frowned, clearly displeased. But that was just how he was. As long as something didn't interfere with his core interests, he would tolerate it. "Nothing. Just don't stay out too late." With that, he turned and went upstairs. In the background, I could still hear my mother coaxing Yuna, urging her to eat a little more. I watched the scene unfold, shaking my head. I wouldn't stop others from doting on Yuna, but I had lost the ability to love. I could no longer spoil her the way a mother should. Grabbing my car keys, I stepped outside. Shawn had given me a silver Mercedes-Benz E-Class, but there were other options in the garage. I usually drove the Bentley when picking Yuna up from school. After all, it made a better statement. I started the engine and pressed the gas. Under the night sky, I had plans to meet a former university friend. Melanie Justice was a lawyer who had spent years building a career in this city. She was unmarried and had recently bought her home, inviting me to her housewarming party. That day, Yuna had fallen sick. Her vomiting and diarrhea kept me at her side all day. When Shawn came home, he blamed me for taking her to an indoor playground, saying that was how she had caught a virus. Thinking about the last time I had missed out, I took the initiative to invite Melanie tonight. She arrived in a rush with a briefcase, looking surprised. I handed her a blue gift box I had bought earlier. "I wasn't able to attend your housewarming, so this is for you." Melanie opened it and gasped. She lifted the gold bracelet inside and immediately slipped it onto her wrist. "My God, Tiffany, this is too much ... It's too expensive," she said, though her eyes sparkled with delight. I pressed her hand before she could take it off. "If you consider me a friend, then just accept it." Tears welled in her eyes as she hugged me. "Thank you, Tiffany. I love it." Hearing her say that, I smiled and pulled out two movie tickets. "Come watch a movie with me." Melanie shot me a teasing look, clearly surprised. "Oh? Why the sudden movie invitation? Did your husband and little princess finally grant you some time off?" "I don't let them dictate my life anymore. From now on, I'll be the one making my choices." Thinking back to my past, I had always been caught up in endless tasks—so busy, yet never truly living for myself. "Seriously?" Melanie eyed me with disbelief, though her excitement was unmistakable. "Well, I must say, I like this new, carefree version of you—reminds me of the old days." I nodded. "I like it too." As we stepped into the theater, Melanie suddenly reached out and touched my back. I turned to her in confusion. Grinning mischievously, she lifted her hand. "Your back is gorgeous—I just had to touch it. It's strange, though. You always used to dress so conservatively. What made you change your style today?" I smiled. "Do I look good?" Leaning in close, she whispered, "You're practically hypnotizing every man within ten feet of you. Of course, you look good. That fair, delicate back of yours—such a little temptress!" I couldn't help but laugh. She hadn't changed at all—still as bold as ever. She reminded me of my younger self. "Let them stare all they want," I murmured back. "A wise person once said that beauty is meant to be seen. Hiding it would be a waste." "Won't Shawn get jealous?" Melanie teased as if his jealousy mattered to me. I chuckled. "If he feels the need to control what his wife wears, he isn't much of a man." Melanie burst into laughter at that, drawing curious glances from the people around us. She quickly covered her mouth and shot me a glare. "This is your fault. You just made me forget how to act like a lady." Smirking, I handed her the bucket of popcorn. "Here. Stuff your mouth with this and behave." The movie didn't hold my interest, but Melanie was completely into it, her eyes gleaming with excitement. I leaned back in my seat, resting my chin on my hand. Finally, I had a moment to process the reality that I had traveled back in time. At 26, I was still young. I had my whole future ahead of me, and this time, I would live for myself. For now, I was a wealthy wife, blessed with money, beauty, and a carefree life. In my previous life, I had believed that was the peak of success for a woman. I had been satisfied with a life without ambition, devoting myself entirely to raising my daughter. I had even dreamed of having a son—one as capable and charismatic as Shawn—so I could depend on my husband in my youth and my son in old age. But in reality, ever since Queena entered the picture, Shawn and I had barely been intimate. A whole year could pass without anything happening between us, while I, young and full of desire, longed for more. During my ovulation period each month, I would wait eagerly for him to come home. However, he acted as if he didn't see the effort I put into dressing up for him. Without a second glance, he would disappear into his study, staying there until the early hours of the morning before retreating to the guest room. I would lie awake, restless and frustrated, tossing and turning as I debated whether to gather the courage to knock on his door. Shawn was gentle and refined, not particularly intense in bed. But when he did engage, he could last an hour. He was quite restrained. He filled my mind with expectations and fantasies, yet real moments between us were scarce, leaving me even more frustrated. When the frustration became too much, I had no choice but to solve it myself, but it always felt hollow and unfulfilling. "Tiffany, is your phone ringing?" Melanie's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced at the screen, seeing Shawn's name flash. Slipping the phone back into my bag, I said casually, "I don't want to be bothered while watching the movie." Melanie blinked at me in surprise before reminding me, "Tiffany, it's Shawn." Resting my chin on my hand, I kept my eyes on the screen and responded calmly, "I know. I'm not picking up." Her jaw dropped as she gawked at me for a long time. I understood why she was so shocked. In my previous life, Shawn's calls had been like commands, and I had treated each one as urgent. Ignoring him had never been an option. But now, after everything he had put me through—both emotionally and physically—I refused to obey him anymore. The phone eventually stopped ringing. But soon after, a message came in. Shawn said Yuna had a stomachache and needed to go to the hospital. He asked when I would be home.