The Love Tester's Lies A Husband's Revenge After Rebirth

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My best friend was a self-styled love tester.

He said he was afraid I'd get hurt by terrible women, so every time I started dating someone new, he'd disguise himself as her ideal type and pursue her relentlessly until he'd seduced her into bed.

Every single time, he'd send me the photos afterward:

"You should be thanking me, brother! If I hadn't been looking out for you, another gold-digger would've played you for a fool! Aren't you glad you have me?"

It broke me. I cut him out of my life completely and moved to a different city.

That was where I met the love of my life: Sylvia Fox.

On the day of our wedding, I spotted him again, disguised as a makeup artist.

"Brother! Let me run one last test before you tie the knot!"

He drugged me unconscious and climbed into Sylvia's bed.

I woke up just in time. I brought people with me, burst into the bridal suite, and had him dragged off to prison.

Later, while Sylvia was pregnant, she insisted I drive out in the middle of the night to get her a late-night snack. The brakes failed halfway there, and the crash shattered my spine on impact.

Sylvia refused to sign the consent form to save me.

"Morris just wanted to give himself to me before the wedding, to fulfill a wish he'd been carrying for years!"

"But you threw him in prison. He killed himself because of you, and now I'm left alone with our child, with nothing! You owe him your life!"

That was when I finally understood. The woman I thought was the love of my life had fallen for my so-called brother long ago.

Even the baby she was carrying wasn't mine.

I died an unjust death. She threw my ashes into a gutter.

Then I opened my eyes again.

I was back on the day Morris Harding had shown up at my wedding disguised as a makeup artist.

The moment my eyes opened, I saw that familiar face staring back at me.

Just like before, he was pointing at me and howling with laughter. Everyone around us had their phones out, cameras shoved in my face, snapping photos.

I didn't need to guess what they were laughing about.

I looked calmly into the mirror.

Sure enough, stamped across my face in blue ink, just like last time, were the words "GRADE-A CERTIFIED PORK."

"What's going on? What happened? What's so funny?"

The door swung open, and Sylvia Fox walked in wearing her wedding dress, a smile playing at the corners of her eyes.

Morris Harding sauntered over to her with a grin.

"Miss Fox, I prepared a little pre-wedding prank for you two. What do you think? Pretty funny, right?"

His foot slipped. He let out a small gasp, and as if by accident, his arms wrapped tightly around Sylvia's slender waist.

His face flushed red as he looked at her.

"Sorry about that."

It was his favorite little seduction trick. I'd seen him pull it a thousand times.

In my previous life, the moment I opened my eyes and saw Morris standing there like a nightmare made flesh, the moment I realized he was about to destroy the wedding I'd waited so long for, watching him flirt and use the same tired moves to seduce my wife

The rage and despair hit me like a dam bursting.

I'd charged at him screaming, ripped him away from her, and slapped him across the face.

"Get out! You're trying to steal the woman I love again, aren't you? I won't let you!"

Sylvia had called for the groomsmen to pin me down. Morris had retreated to a corner, trembling, eyes wide and pitiful.

"I didn't do anything. Mr. Sawyer, you've got it all wrong. It was just a pre-wedding prank. That's all it was."

No matter how I tried to explain, no matter how many times I told them he was a so-called love tester who had seduced every girlfriend I'd ever had and destroyed every relationship I'd ever been in

Morris just stood there shaking, tears streaming down his face.

"I swear I didn't. I don't even know you. I'm just a makeup artist."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll get on my knees and apologize if that's what you want. Please, just stop making things up about me..."

The whispers rippled through the room:

"A love tester? Someone's been reading too many novels. People like that don't exist."

"Guy's got a cuckold complex. Thinks everyone's out to steal his wife. Pathetic..."

My protests grew weaker and weaker, drowned out by the mocking laughter of the crowd and the weary look in Sylvia's eyes.

She sighed, resigned, and walked over to wrap me in a gentle embrace.

"It's okay. If you don't like him, we'll fire him. How about that?"

"But you should've just told me directly instead of jumping to conclusions and spreading rumors about the poor guy..."

I'd thought she was simply deceived by Morris's lies and his act, just like all the other guests.

It wasn't until the moment I died that I learned the truth.

Her heart had already turned toward Morris.

...

This time, I watched with no expression as Morris threw his arms around Sylvia.

I didn't miss the flicker of emotion that darted through her eyes.

But a split second later, she shot a quick glance my way.

She shoved him off and said coldly, "That joke isn't funny. Apologize to my husband right now, then fix his makeup and cover that writing up."

"No need."

My voice was calm.

I lowered my head and pulled up the hospital's booking page to schedule a laser removal appointment.

Sylvia let out a breath of relief and patted Morris's hand gently.

"Hurry up and apologize to my husband. If he weren't so kind-hearted and easy-going, he wouldn't be letting this slide..."

I cut her off.

"Sylvia. Forget the makeup. The wedding is off."

Sylvia stared at me in disbelief. After a long pause, she let out a short laugh.

"That's not funny."

"It's not a joke."

I pulled off the suit she'd gone through God knew how many connections to have flown in from overseas. Tossed it aside like a piece of garbage.

"The wedding is canceled. We're done."

I put on my jacket without hesitation and headed for the door.

"Simon!"

Only then did Sylvia realize I was serious.

She grabbed my wrist, panic written all over her face.

"You're calling off the wedding over one stupid joke from a stylist?"

She looked up at me, those wide, beautiful eyes brimming with hurt and confusion.

"Simon, stop this!"

"Do you have any idea how much we put into this wedding? Our friends and family are all here. You can't just"

I shook her hand off. I ignored the whispers and pointed fingers around us, and looked at her with nothing but cold contempt.

"Sylvia, you know exactly why I'm not going through with this."

"I'm giving you a chance. A chance to be with the person you actually love. Isn't that what you want?"

I expected to see panic flash across her face.

Instead, she looked perfectly composed, her expression full of wounded bewilderment.

"Simon, what are you even talking about? Everyone knows the person I love most is you!"

She pointed at Morris.

"Is this because of him?"

Her voice was helpless.

"I didn't know he was going to pull that stunt."

"Besides, didn't I already say I'd make him apologize? If that's still not enough for you, I'll fire him on the spot!"

Morris's eyes instantly filled with tears. He turned and bolted from the room.

Sylvia didn't spare him a single glance. Her dark eyes held mine, steady and deep.

"There. Are we good now?"

I looked at her, my gaze flat. I didn't say yes. I didn't say no.

The Fox parents walked in, their voices laced with reproach.

"She's already apologized to you. Playing hard to get at this point is just childish."

"Simon, do you have any idea how good Sylvia has been to you? Have you forgotten who arranged your mother's surgery? Who set up her follow-up treatment? A man shouldn't bite the hand that feeds him."

A sharp pain tore through my chest.

My mother's cerebral hemorrhage was caused by Morris.

He'd done it on purpose. At my wedding to my ex, Morris had projected their bedroom photos for everyone to see, then eloped with my fiance right in front of the guests, leaving me as the laughingstock of the entire reception.

My mother collapsed from the shock.

To get her the treatment she needed, I transferred her from hospital to hospital until we ended up in Havenport, where I met Sylvia, a neurosurgery specialist. Over the course of my mother's treatment, Sylvia and I gradually fell in love.

I understood the threat buried in Betty's words. The Fox family had a reputation to uphold. If I ruined this wedding and embarrassed them today, my mother would be thrown out of their hospital.

"Mom!"

Sylvia cut Betty off, her tone measured but firm.

"Simon is my husband, and his mother is my mother-in-law. Taking care of her is my responsibility."

She turned to me, her voice soft and pleading.

"Honey, at the very least, for the sake of everything I've done for your mother, can we please not make a scene at our wedding?"

I dug my nails into my palms and let a wounded expression surface.

"Sylvia, do you really not know that stylist? Because he just whispered to me that you deliberately had him stamp my face to humiliate me on your behalf. That's why I got upset."

The moment the words left my mouth, the guests who had been looking at me with disapproval shifted to expressions of sympathy.

A muscle in Sylvia's cheek twitched. Then she smoothed it over with a reassuring smile.

"He was talking nonsense. He's just jealous that you married such a wonderful wife."

When I said nothing, she relented with a sigh.

"I'll file a complaint against him right now, okay?"

Only then did I let myself smile.

"Then swear on it."

"If you really do have something going on with him, if you've betrayed me, then we're getting a divorce."

Sylvia cooed and soothed me, raising her hand to swear.

The guests laughed warmly.

"You're overthinking it. Sylvia only has eyes for you."

Outside the door, Morris's face flashed past, twisted with venom at his failed scheme.

I didn't spare him a glance.

The wedding ended.

I was heading back to my room to change out of my suit when someone pressed a cloth over my nose and mouth.

I held my breath, closed my eyes, and played along.

Just like last time.

Morris and Sylvia stumbled down the hallway tangled in each other, shoving open the door to the room next door. They fell onto the bed, unable to hold back the sounds that followed.

I snapped my eyes open, slipped downstairs, and found the Fox parents chatting with guests.

This time, I didn't do what I'd done in my previous life. I didn't tell them Morris had drugged me and tried to climb into my bed.

Instead, I put on a worried expression.

"Mom, Dad, I think Sylvia had too much to drink. She doesn't look well."

Fergus and Betty, ever doting on their daughter, rallied immediately. Curious relatives trailed behind them, and the whole group followed me upstairs in a procession.

The moment we reached the door of the guest room, the muffled sounds from inside were unmistakable.

Every face in the crowd went rigid.

The Fox parents scrambled to cover it up, but I pushed the door wide open.

"Sylvia, are you feeling okay?"

The door swung back. Two entangled figures on the bed shot apart, frantically clawing at the sheets.

Through the crowd, Morris flashed me a triumphant grin.

In an instant, the hallway erupted.

"Oh my God, that man. Isn't that the stylist from this morning?"

"So Simon was telling the truth. Jesus..."

Fergus's face turned beet red. He bellowed in humiliation.

"Sylvia! Look at what you've done!"

Betty charged into the room and dragged Morris off the bed.

"This is all your fault! You must have drugged my daughter!"

She whipped around to Sylvia. "That's what happened, isn't it, sweetheart? We're calling the police! We'll have this animal thrown in prison!"

The moment those words left her mouth, the smugness drained from Morris's face.

His face went white, and he pulled Sylvia tight against him.

"Don't!"

Sylvia screamed, knocking the phone out of her mother's hand before she could dial.

Then she lifted her head and looked at me through the crowd.

Her eyes were dark, steady. Not a flicker of panic. Not a trace of guilt.

"Honey, let's talk."

The Fox parents cleared everyone out of the room.

That left just the three of us.

I didn't think there was anything left to talk about.

All I could think was: in this life, I hadn't sent Morris to prison. I hadn't let him rot behind bars. And yet she could still look me in the face without an ounce of shame.

For a moment, I couldn't tell if what filled my chest was bitterness or hatred.

I pulled off my wedding ring and tossed it into the trash.

My voice came out flat. "You swore an oath. If you ever lied to me, we'd divorce."

"Sylvia, I'll have the papers drawn up as soon as possible."

"Simon!"

She called after me from behind.

"I'm not divorcing you."

I spun around, and for the first time, I looked at her with real hatred.

"Then I'll file in court!"

"Go ahead and try!"

Sylvia's face was half-lost in the dim light of the room.

"You file for divorce, and I pull the plug on your mother's treatment. Immediately."

"I will make sure that no hospital in this cityno, in this entire countrywill take her in."

"Sylvia!"

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. My whole body was shaking, and I couldn't make it stop.

I imagined how I must have lookedpathetic, powerless, completely broken.

Because I saw Morris flash that gleeful smile again.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"If you love him, just divorce me! You two can be together out in the open! Why do you have to drag me into this?"

I looked at Sylvia through the tears burning in my eyes.

"I've already stepped aside for you. I have never done a single thing to wrong you! Why won't you just let me go?"

Sylvia's voice was perfectly calm.

"You haven't wronged me. But you've wronged Morris."

My eyes went wide.

"When did I ever"

Sylvia let out a cold laugh.

"Every single girlfriend Morris ever hadyou stole them, didn't you?"

"You, hiding behind that 'love tester' act, seduced every one of Morris's girlfriends. You slept with them. You pushed him into depression. He nearly killed himself!"

"You took that many people from him. It's only fair you find out what it feels like to have your own wife taken away."

"And your mother! Do you dare tell me what really caused her stroke?"

"Your mother went to Morris's wedding to cause a sceneall to help you steal yet another woman. She got screamed at until she collapsed. Your mother lying there half-dead? That's what she deserved."

My head exploded. A roar of white noise drowned out everything, and before I knew it, I was standing right in front of them.

My hand cracked across Sylvia's face.

But when I raised it again, swinging toward Morris

Sylvia shoved me back.

"Enough! Even now, you're still bullying him!"

I wiped the tears from my face. Every word came out through gritted teeth.

"I never did any of that. None of it. Sylvia! Morris is the one who stole my girlfriends. He's the one who eloped with my ex at the wedding. He's the one who sent my mother into a stroke!"

"There are witnesses. There are text messages, all saved on my phone. You can check for yourself"

"Enough!"

Sylvia's palm struck my face, cutting me off mid-sentence.

Her expression was ugly with contempt.

"Even now, after everything, you still won't admit it. You still won't repent."

"Simon, I had no idea you were this shameless and heartless!"

"Won't admit it, huh? Still lying through your teeth? Then let's see just how stubborn you really are!"

She stood up and called in her bodyguards. They grabbed me and dragged me toward the stairs.

"Let go of me!"

They threw me straight into the basement freezer and locked the door behind them.

"Let me out!"

I pounded on the freezer door like a madman.

The only answer I got was her voice, cold and merciless from the other side:

"You won't confess? Fine. Let's see which gives out firstyour life or your stubbornness."

"The second you admit what you did and get on your knees to apologize to Morris, I'll let you out!"

I slammed my fists against the door until my knuckles split, but no one came.

The temperature plummeted.

I slid to the ground, helpless, my body going numb as the cold seeped into my bones.

I didn't know how long I'd been in there when the freezer door finally opened.

I looked up and saw Morris rushing toward me, face full of concern, reaching down to help me to my feet.

"Hey, you okay? Come on, let's get you out of here! We need to get you to a hospital!"

I stared at the earnest worry on his face and felt something inside me crack apart.

"Morris, why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you? Why do you keep destroying my life?"

My voice broke.

If I had to choose who I hated morebetween Sylvia and Morrisit was Morris. Every time.

We'd grown up together. We were supposed to be brothers. Best friends since childhood.

I'd stepped in front of him when a senior tried to slap him around, took the hit meant for his face.

He'd slung his arm around my shoulders afterward and told me we'd be brothers for life.

And yet this was the same person who, time after time, had driven a knife straight into my heart.

Morris put on a wounded, wronged expression.

"I was just worried you were being deceived by that woman. All I wanted was to help you find a wife who actually loves you and trusts you!"

I shoved his hand away, tears streaming down my face.

"You're not looking out for me! Every single time, all you do is hurt me!"

Morris blinked at me with those guileless eyes.

"Okay, okay. You're right. I was wrong. But let's get you to a hospital first."

He hauled me up by forcemy legs could barely hold meand pushed me into a car.

The car didn't go to the hospital. It pulled up to a hotel. I stared at him, every nerve on edge.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

He just smiled, something secretive flickering across his face, and dragged my weakened body into a room.

The door swung open. Inside stood a group of burly men with leering, repulsive faces.

Morris let out a sudden shriek, ripped his own shirt, smashed his own forehead against the doorframe until blood ran down his face, and bolted out of the room.

"I'm sorry! Please, Mr. Sawyer, I won't fight you for her! I won't compete with you for anything! Please stop hitting me!"

Every instinct screamed danger. I forced my body upright, trying to grab him.

Before I could even steady myself, the door was kicked open from the outside.

Sylvia took one look at me, then at the thugs standing behind me.

Her eyes went red instantly.

Her palm cracked across my face.

"Simon! Do you have a death wish?!"

"Not only won't you repent for what you've done, now you're trying to get revenge on Morris?! You were actually going to ruin him! How can you be this vicious?!"

"I didn't do anything!"

I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood.

"Morris is the one who opened the freezer! He brought me here!"

"Enough! You and I are the only ones who know the passcode to that freezer! There's no way Morris could have opened it! You obviously snuck out and dragged Morris here yourself!"

Sylvia's jaw clenched, her teeth grinding together.

"So that's how it is. Threatening your own life won't make you bend. Then let's see if your mother's life will."

My eyes went wide.

"What are you going to do?!"

Sylvia gave the order without hesitation.

"Throw Simon's mother out of the hospital. No one touches her case."

"No!"

I collapsed at her feet, sobbing.

"I'll apologize! You want me to apologize to Morris? I'll do it! Just don't touch my mother!"

"Too late."

Sylvia's voice was ice.

"When Morris wakes up and forgives you, that's when I'll let someone deal with your mother. Not a second before."

I looked toward Morris, still cradled in her arms, and caught him snapping his eyes shut. Pretending to be unconscious.

Desperation drove my forehead to the floor. Again. And again.

"I'm begging you, Sylvia. Do whatever you want to me. Anything. Just leave my mother alone."

"Morris, I've given you everything you ever asked for! Can't you just let us go?!"

The only answer was Sylvia's back as she walked away, her voice trailing behind her like a verdict.

"Watch him. Keep him on his knees. If he tries to stand, break his legs."

One hour. Two hours.

I knelt there, crying, praying that Morris would have a shred of mercy left in him, that he'd wake up and stop Sylvia.

What I got instead was a phone call from Sylvia's assistant. Cold. Clinical.

"I'm sorry, sir. Your mother has passed away. Since you weren't present to sign for the body, we've already sent her remains to the processing facility."

"No!"

The scream tore out of me. Blood followed, pouring from my mouth in thick, dark waves.

The bodyguards received a message from Sylvia. They hauled me off the ground.

"Miss Fox is hosting a birthday party for Mr. Harding tonight. She wants you cleaned up and on your knees at the venue to apologize. You're his birthday present."

I followed them like a dead man walking. Into the car. Back to the house. Into the bedroom to get ready.

They waited outside.

Minutes passed. Then more minutes. I never came out.

They kicked the bedroom door open.

I was gone.

All that remained was a beautifully wrapped gift box sitting on the bed.

Sylvia wore a smile as she watched the man in front of her blow out his candles.

But irritation gnawed at her beneath the surface.

Simon still hadn't shown up.

She'd scared him enough, hadn't she? All she wanted was for him to apologize to Morris, to put a period at the end of all the wrongs he'd committed. Was that really so much to ask?

Her agitation was reaching its peak when a bodyguard rushed into the room.

Sylvia's eyes lit up. Then dimmed the moment she scanned the space behind him and found no trace of Simon.

"Where is he?!"

The bodyguards were drenched in cold sweat. One of them held out the gift box with trembling hands.

"This is his gift, ma'am. He said to open it."