Reborn at 18: I Dumped My Scumbag Ex and Married a Billionaire

Annie's POV: "Come on, Annie," Lily taunted loudly, savoring every second of my embarrassment. "Don't be shy. Tell the whole class who you begged to come take your virginity in the storage room." Moments ago, I had been dying of late-stage stomach cancer at 45 years old. For twenty years, I believed my husband Lucas had died in a plane crash, while I worked myself to the bone to build a hundred-million-dollar company and raise our three adopted children. On my deathbed, they walked in with a FaceTime call. Lucas was alive, living a life of luxury with Lily. The three children were their biological offspring, my infertility diagnosis was a forged lie, and they had come to strip away every asset I owned. The truth hit me harder than the cancer ever had. I died with one burning vow: if I ever got a second chance, I would never choose Lucas again, and I would make sure they all paid for every year they had stolen from me. And the universe had answered. Harsh sunlight stung my eyes as they snapped open. The sound of mocking laughter bounced off the classroom walls. At the front of the room, one of Lucas's varsity hockey teammates stood waving a sheet of pink stationery, shouting out my desperate words. Lucas lounged in his chair, surrounded by his friends, wearing a careless, arrogant sneer. In my first life, this moment had destroyed me. I had stood here crying while everyone laughed, desperate for Lucas to say something—anything—that would make the humiliation stop. Back then, I had thought losing Lucas was the worst thing that could happen to me. At 18, his rejection had felt like the end of my world. At 45, after learning exactly what kind of man he was, it meant nothing. The hockey player's triumphant smirk faltered when I didn't cry. Before he could react, I snatched the pink letter from his hand. In my first life, this letter had been my public execution. Today, it was my weapon. Lucas straightened in his seat as I approached. His smirk deepened. He knew exactly what came next—or thought he did. He expected me to stop beside him, to beg him to explain, to apologize for embarrassing him with a letter he'd never asked for. That was what I had done last time. Instead, I walked straight past him without sparing him a single glance. For one stunned second, the classroom went completely silent. Then whispers ripped through the rows. Lily's laughter choked off in her throat, her mouth falling open as she realized I had passed Lucas without stopping. Lucas's smirk vanished. Behind me, a chair scraped sharply against the floor. "Annie?" Lucas had never needed to call after me before. One look from him used to be enough to make me turn around. This time, I kept walking. The chair scraped again as Lucas stood. "Annie, where are you going?" His voice had lost that lazy certainty. A few students exchanged confused looks. Lily's expression changed too, losing its smug edge as she realized I wasn't playing along. She had expected tears, apologies, or another humiliating attempt to win Lucas back. None of them had expected me to leave him sitting there in front of his friends. I didn't turn around. I kept marching down the center aisle, heading straight toward the back row by the window. The whispers changed when the class finally realized where I was heading. "Noah?" someone whispered in disbelief. Sitting in the back row was Noah. To everyone else, he was just the scholarship kid in faded flannel and scuffed sneakers, the boy they barely noticed unless they wanted someone to mock. But I knew what none of them did. Soon after graduation, the biological family he had never known would finally find him. Years later, the boy this class mocked would become one of the most powerful men on Wall Street. But that wasn't why I was walking toward him. And there was one detail everyone in this room had overlooked. The letter in my hand had no name on it. I had written it for Lucas, but I had never actually written his name on the paper. In my first life, that hadn't mattered. This time, it did. Noah looked up. His amber eyes moved from my face to the pink letter in my hand, but he made no move to take it. Of course he didn't. In this school, people approached Noah to mock him far more often than they approached him with kindness. Behind me, Lucas had gone completely silent. No one laughed now. Even Lily had gone quiet. The entire class seemed to be waiting for Noah to reject me, as if that would put everything back where it belonged. I wasn't giving them that satisfaction. I placed the pink letter on his desk and held his gaze. "Noah," I said clearly. "Will you accept my invitation?"