Reborn: I'm the One Who Leaves First

I open my eyes, only to find Monica Shepherd lying beneath me. I'm just about to get up when a sudden ringing sound prompts Monica to shove me away. Monica's previously flushed face turns completely cold the moment she hangs up. She lights up a cigarette and says indifferently, "You shouldn't come around anymore since the new man I'm seeing gets incredibly jealous. He's quite a handful to deal with." I look into her eyes and readily agree. In my past life, I refuse to let go after she falls for someone else, shamelessly clinging to her like a desperate simp. She absolutely loathes me for that, though, to the point that when she sees a group of thugs break my leg and drag me into an alley, she doesn't hesitate for a second to grab her new man, Michael Harrison, turn her back, and walk away. In this lifetime, I'm the one who doesn't want Monica anymore. Chapter 1 Hugh's POV Upon hearing my agreement, Monica Shepherd, my benefactress, paused mid-drag on her cigarette. She then turned to look at me, chuckling softly before blowing a plume of smoke right into my face. She drawled playfully, asking, "What's the matter, Hugh? Did I upset you?" I held her gaze through the hazy smoke, looking completely serious. "I'm doing what you told me to do, so shouldn't you be happy about it?" Monica held my gaze for a couple of seconds, her expression unreadable. She then let out a sudden, mocking laugh and rose to her feet with a languid air. "You'd better stay in your lane; being my husband isn't something you should ever think about, Hugh. It was such a simple truth, yet in my past life, I stubbornly refused to heed the advice. I was a poor student sponsored by Monica, who had encountered me at the age of 16 years old while accompanying her grandfather, Darren Shepherd, to the countryside. I was only 12 years old back then, an age when I should have been a young lad, but because of malnutrition, I looked like an eight- or nine-year-old boy. I didn't really have any sense of gender boundaries back then, so I stripped naked to catch fish in the reservoir. Monica, who was passing by, caught sight of me and called me up in disbelief. She blushed deeply upon seeing me standing stark naked in front of her. She hurriedly took off her coat and threw it over me. It was quite strange, really. I had always been completely thick-skinned and shameless, but because of that single action of hers, I suddenly understood what it felt like to be embarrassed. Mr. Shepherd Senior had spent his life as a philanthropist, and Monica seemed determined to follow in his footsteps. She had emptied an entire summer's allowance to purchase my freedom from my father and stepmother, then taken me away with her. She was well-educated, kind, and beautiful, caring for me in a manner that was almost maternal. Thus, it was pretty much impossible for me not to fall for her. Monica hated me, though, a realization that nearly broke my heart. I didn't know when it had started, nor did I understand why, but by the time I understood the truth, I had already met my death in that dark, squalid alley. I quickly got dressed, got up, and returned to my room once I finally gathered my thoughts. I turned on my laptop and decided to pursue the dream I had abandoned in my past life. I signed up for a government program placing university graduates in rural administrative posts, planning to return to my hometown to contribute to its development. In my past life, Monica had reacted with intense aversion upon learning of it, going so far as to smash my laptop right before the registration deadline. I chose not to tell anyone in this life, though. I finally breathed a sigh of relief after submitting my application. In the next instant, Monica's voice suddenly rang out. "What are you signing up for?" I slammed my laptop shut and looked back. Monica and Michael Harrison were standing side-by-side in my room. They looked like a well-matched couple, both equally good-looking. Michael was dressed plainly, his thin hands tightly clenched. He looked as if he were afraid of me. "I came to ask Monica for help with some questions, Hugh. She mentioned she'd gone over them with you before, so she wanted to borrow your study guides to look at." I was momentarily dazed, realizing Michael was actually quite similar to how I used to be, whether it was his style of dress or certain micro-expressions. Upon seeing me frozen there, Monica assumed I didn't want to lend them to Michael. "How can you be so selfish, Hugh? Those—" I didn't even wait for her to finish before I turned around. I grabbed the study guides Monica had bought me—along with all the key notes she had personally written—and stuffed them all into Michael's arms. Monica instantly froze, her gaze full of confusion. In my past life, I had made a huge fuss over these study guides, protecting them as if my life depended on it. Michael had played the victim, crying and claiming it was his fault, only to steal the study materials away when I wasn't around. Chapter 2 In my past life, I had begged Michael to return those study materials to me, but when Monica saw that, she thought I was deliberately making things difficult for him and drove me out without a second thought. That day was bitterly cold, with rain pounding down loudly. Monica and Michael were sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window as they ate their dinner, while I stood stubbornly outside until I blacked out. I would never do something that stupid again, though. I deliberately lowered my head to pack up my things, pretending not to notice her gaze. Monica looked at me in silence for two seconds before grabbing Michael and leaving, slamming the door behind her. They were both laughing merrily and fooling around downstairs the entire afternoon, only to fall silent the moment Doreen Hall, the housekeeper, called me downstairs for dinner. They acted as though my arrival had totally ruined the mood. I didn't really react; I just silently ate the food on my plate. Michael suddenly placed a pork cutlet onto my plate and said, "You should try this, Hugh. I specifically asked Doreen to make it for you." I hesitated for a moment before saying, "Thank you, but I don't eat pork." Michael looked embarrassed. He went rigid and looked down, looking so pitiful that it could break one's heart. "What's the big deal if you take one bite? Is it going to kill you?" Monica slammed her cutlery onto the table, her glare making it glaringly obvious that she thought I was faking it. I looked at her resentful gaze, unable to understand when everything had changed. She had treated me like a fragile doll when she first brought me back home at 12 years old, meticulously checking my three meals every single day. She had taken me to travel to various places when I was 13 years old, doing everything she could to broaden my horizons. She had single-handedly gone after the school when I was 14 years old, after finding out that a classmate of mine had mocked me for my accent, forcing the classmate to apologize to me. … I was clenching my fists so hard that my fingernails dug deep into my palms. I quickly looked away, not wanting her to catch this brief moment of weakness of mine. I reopened my eyes a few seconds later, and I was back to being calm and detached. It was half an hour later, and the rain began to fall outside right on cue. I then heard the exact words Monica had said to me in my past life. "Michael is staying over tonight. He's afraid of the dark, and since the lights in the guestroom are broken, you two are swapping rooms." Monica stared intently at me while saying this, seemingly certain that I would lose my temper. She wasn't wrong to think so; after all, in my past life, I had indeed thrown a massive fit and turned the whole house upside down. Michael ended up backing down and staying in that dark room, but because he suffered a panic attack, he had to be rushed to the hospital. It was from that moment forward that my relationship with Monica hit a freezing point. It didn't matter to me anymore since I was moving out in a couple of days anyway. I had no problem vacating the room and giving it to him right then and there. Upon seeing me agree so readily, Michael was visibly ecstatic and practically jumped for joy. Monica, however, looked momentarily dazed, her gaze tinged with desolation as she watched my figure ascend the stairs. It had been quite some time since the guestroom had been aired out, so the quilt smelled a bit musty, which actually brought back memories of my hometown. I recalled my incompetent father, my cruel stepmother, my loyal childhood friends, and the elderly neighbor who used to secretly slip me crisp apples. I slowly drifted off to sleep while surrounded by these various memories. It was then that a sudden, piercing scream woke me with a start, and before long, panicked footsteps echoed down the hallway. I opened the door, only for a hand to roughly grab my collar and yank me outside. Monica shoved me hard onto the floor, her face twisted with a mixture of rage and disappointment. "You're too malicious, Hugh! I'll make sure you end up behind bars if anything happens to Michael!" She helped Michael, whose face was twisted with pain, and slowly led him downstairs after saying that. It was only then that I noticed the blood covering Michael's back, along with a few thumbtacks stuck into it. I shook my groggy head and braced myself against the railing to stand; my fingers, which were injured from the fall, were still trembling. I had already chosen to step back in this life, but Michael still wouldn't leave me alone. I had already prepared for this possibility, though. I went into the room and retrieved the camera I had hidden behind the vase. Thankfully, since Michael hadn't turned off the lights, the footage captured every moment of him scattering the thumbtacks. Chapter 3 I dragged the suitcase out from under the bed and began packing my clothes once the footage had been exported. Doreen walked into the room after knocking on the door. She had practically watched me grow up, so her face was filled with sadness when she saw me packing to leave. "There's definitely been a misunderstanding, Hugh. I'm certain that you didn't do it. You should just wait for Monica to get back and explain everything to her—" I suddenly cut in with a question of my own before she could finish. "Do you believe I'm innocent, Doreen?" Doreen, without any hesitation, nodded her head vigorously. I smiled, quickly wiping away a tear as I looked down. I took out a doll I had treasured for years once I finished packing. Monica had given it to me when I was 12 years old, back when she first brought me home, and it had sat at the head of my bed ever since, keeping me company for a decade. I handed it to Doreen and said with a smile, "I remember your granddaughter really liked this, Doreen. I'm all grown up now, so if you don't mind, please give it to her to play with." Doreen accepted it somewhat hesitantly. "I remember Monica sewing this herself. She spent half a month on it, getting quite a few blood blisters on her fingers from all the needle pricks." I murmured in acknowledgement, showing no discernible reaction. I made it to the hotel with my suitcase more than half an hour later, and Monica called right away, her voice trembling with built-up rage. "Why haven't you come to the hospital after causing such a huge mess, Hugh?" I was still feeling dizzy from her push earlier. I couldn't even find the energy to speak properly as I merely murmured, "I didn't do it…" "Who else could it have been if it wasn't you? Get to the hospital this instant and apologize to Michael!" Monica bellowed before abruptly hanging up. I considered it for a moment before I picked up the flash drive containing the footage and went to the hospital. I had just reached the hallway when I spotted Monica waiting outside the hospital ward. She looked at me with a chilling expression, her face devoid of warmth. "Doreen told me you've moved out. Where did you move to?" I caught myself for a moment, not expecting her first question to be about that. I extended my hand toward her instead of replying to her question, showing her the flash drive I had been clutching the entire way. "I wasn't the one who pushed him. I can show—" Monica swatted the flash drive away before I could even finish my sentence. "What kind of lies are you trying to spread about Michael? Why are you being so petty when Michael is only staying for a single night?" She looked indescribably disappointed as she asked, "How did you end up like this?" She then went back to the question she had asked before. "Where did you move to?" I paused as I reached down to pick up the flash drive. I then stated coldly, "It's none of your business." In that instant, a deathly silence suddenly gripped the surroundings. I felt that something was off, so I turned around to look. Monica had already stepped right up to me, her bright red fingernails digging hard into my arm. Her eyes filled with rage, while the veins on her forehead were practically popping. "Did that wretched lover of yours tell you to move away?" I was completely baffled. I was just about to ask who exactly this lover was when a figure suddenly flashed across my mind. I realized she was talking about Cora Livingston, a childhood friend with whom I had grown up in the same town. I had saved her from drowning in the reservoir when we were young, and even when I left the town, we still kept in touch. Monica had mocked our relationship on more than one occasion. I remembered one summer when Cora had traveled all the way to Astoria alone just to bring me fruit from our hometown. She happened to encounter Monica coming home, but Monica said nothing then. Monica, however, turned around and threw all the fruit into the dog bowl while I was sleeping and even grabbed me by the hair, warning me to keep my distance and behave myself. I calmly pushed her away after listening to her intolerable insults. "It has nothing to do with you." Monica's eyes turned bloodshot with rage. She then nodded repeatedly before she placed her hand on my groin. "Is it really none of my business? Who was the one holding onto me and wouldn't let go? Who was crying and begging me not to ignore them? Who exactly was the one taking off my clothes and crawling into my bed in the middle of the night?" Upon hearing her string of accusations, I finally understood how utterly shameless I was in my past life. I merely chuckled softly, without getting defensive like she thought I would, and without throwing a humiliating tantrum. Chapter 4 I stated calmly, "You can rest assured that it'll never happen again." Monica looked coldly at my departing back, her tone arrogant and cold while saying, "I'll give you a few days to think it over, Hugh. You'd better come and apologize to Michael once you've thought it through; otherwise, don't bother coming back." Monica had indeed thought too highly of herself. In the period that followed, I rented a place for myself. I focused entirely on preparing for my exams, ignoring every single call that came from Monica. I had just walked out of the exam hall when I received a flood of messages—some from my classmates and some from my teachers. "You have to come to the university as soon as possible—Michael has filed a complaint against your scholarship, Hugh. "There might be an issue with your scholarship, so please come to the campus this instant, Hugh." I had to take certificate exams and write my thesis with graduation drawing near, and now Michael had to show up on top of that. I sneered and immediately took a cab to the campus. I walked into the student advisor's office and noticed Michael sitting there with bloodshot eyes, encircled by familiar faculty and classmates. They were taking turns offering him comfort. I couldn't help but feel my heart skip a beat, as though I realized what was happening. Upon seeing me, Michael immediately sprang to his feet. His shoulders trembled ever so slightly, as though he had been badly frightened. "I couldn't watch someone like you keep the scholarship after what you did, Hugh." I cocked my brow slightly and asked, "What exactly did I do?" "You really don't know what you did, huh?" Monica asked as she pushed open the door and walked in slowly. Having not seen her for over a month, Monica's cold, haughty attitude had become even more pronounced, while her eyes were fixed on me as though I were a complete stranger. Michael hurried over to Monica and intertwined his fingers with hers. He grew even more confident with Monica by his side. He looked at me as though he held the moral high ground and said, "You're the one who injured my back, Hugh. You weren't even punished for it, yet you won't even apologize to me." I didn't beat around the bush and asked directly, "Why on earth should I apologize for anything when you're the one who orchestrated the whole thing yourself?" Michael seemed to have anticipated this response from me. His face instantly flushed while his body shook slightly, looking as though he was too furious to speak. In that instant, even several of my classmates found the situation intolerable. They felt compelled to intervene and stop me, saying, "You shouldn't take this too far, Hugh; no one sane would inflict harm upon themselves." "I know, right? Is apologizing really so hard? You're only treating him like this because he's from an underprivileged background, aren't you?" Mason Lowe, Michael's best friend, looked at me with undisguised contempt. "You're just jealous because Monica likes Michael. You were merely an unwanted stray until Monica kindly took you in. You shouldn't harbor any improper expectations; whoever she chooses to love is her own business!" He spoke with absolute conviction, looking as though he were defending what was right. I, however, was aware that Michael had instructed him to say these things. They had planned this from the start—they meant to destroy my reputation in front of everyone. Mason's speech successfully appealed to the gossipy nature of the surrounding crowd, who began pointing at me and whispering to one another in succession. "Hugh seemed like such a nice guy. Who would have thought he could be so malicious?" "I know, right? You just can't judge a book by its cover!" Monica just stared at me in total silence, her brow furrowed as if she were deep in thought. Michael hid behind Monica and subtly cocked his brow at me in a blatant, provocative gesture. Jodie Clark, who had been my student advisor for four years, immediately lowered her voice and said, "You should just offer an apology first, regardless of the facts. It won't do you any good if this blows out of proportion." Mason immediately barked, "Why shouldn't we blow this up? You can't shield him just because you're his student advisor! You're supposed to serve as an exemplar of your profession, for goodness' sake! You're an absolute disgrace to your profession!" Ms. Clark hadn't anticipated such insolence from him and was intending to confront him out of sheer anger. I reached out to stop her. I then smiled and winked at her, saying, "I have a video to show you, Ms. Clark." Ms. Clark looked down in confusion, and gradually, her rapid, heavy breathing began to calm. She then looked up, offering a subtle smile that only I comprehended.