On Christmas He Cheated, on New Year He Died

The night before Christmas, my husband makes it official with his 49th mistress. "Love of my life, @TiffanyVale." "Love of my life, @RomanBlackwell." Then he turns to me and tries to smooth it over. "She lost a dare. Don't take it to heart." Everyone laughs at me, but I don't make a scene. What they don't know is that I have a deal with the System. Every time Roman cheats, a year of his life transfers to me. By now, his 80 years are down to just one. All I have to do is make it past New Year's, and he drops dead of natural causes. Then I can take our three children and inherit the Blackwell family's trillion-dollar fortune. Chapter 1 The post broke the Internet. Roman Blackwell and Tiffany Vale's announcement shot straight to trending. In under ten minutes, it had over 100 thousand comments. "Mr. Blackwell is so romantic! Now that's true love!" "Tiffany must've saved the galaxy in a past life!" "@CorinneHalstead, hey wifey, come look! Your husband's got a new one!" I set my phone down, perfectly calm, and picked up my tea. The doorbell rang. Roman's parents stormed in, both radiating fury. His father, Douglas Blackwell, was dark with anger, and he let out a heavy sigh. "Corinne, that brat is a disgrace. Let me buy you a yacht. Go clear your head if you need to." His mother, Judith Ainsley, patted my shoulder gently. "Corinne, don't you worry. You're the only daughter-in-law this family will ever recognize. Those little homewreckers will never set foot through this door." I poured the tea with my head down and arranged my face into something understanding. "Thank you, Mom, Dad. I know." Why would I make a scene? After all, this was already Roman's 49th mistress. That was just wonderful. Seven more days, and this would all be over. The next day, the head of Blackwell Group's PR department came to the house personally. "Mrs. Blackwell, here's the drafted statement. If you could take a look..." I scanned it, and it read the same as always. It was just a game; I didn't mind. We were very happy together, and there was no need to waste public attention on something so trivial. Over the past ten years, I'd put out plenty of these. This time, they were taking it especially seriously, because it was the first time Roman had gone fully public with a mistress, and he'd done it with fanfare. I'd seen the young woman. She was different from the ones before, sharper and more perceptive, and she bore a stronger resemblance to the dead love of Roman's life than any of the others had. Once the statement went live, my feed blew up again. In the socialite group chat, someone tagged me directly. "Corinne, you're just so gracious! If my husband pulled that, I'd have broken both his legs!" "See, that's why she's the real queen. The rest of us could never." I'd long grown tired of the passive-aggressive nonsense. I closed the chat and went to the study. At the very bottom of a drawer sat a small leather-bound notebook. The first page was dated ten years ago. "Lauren Oakes, 23. Dance academy student. Three-month affair. He bought her an apartment." The second page read, "Bianca Keyes, 25. Internet personality. Four-month affair. He set her up with a clothing store." … On page 48, I had written, "Alexis Marlowe, 22. Music conservatory student. Two-month affair. He gave her a sports car." I picked up my pen and started writing on page 49. "Tiffany Vale, 24. Drama school graduate." I didn't know yet what she'd walk away with. But I had a feeling her ambitions ran deeper than the rest. I closed the notebook. Outside the window, a light snow had started to fall. The Christmas tree in the garden glowed with colored lights, and my three children were out building a snowman. Their laughter drifted in through the glass. My real name used to be Sage Adler. The day I crossed over into this world, the woman whose body I now inhabited had just taken her last breath. Sleeping pills were scattered across the nightstand, and her phone screen was still lit up with photos of Roman in bed with Lauren. She'd been consumed by one unshakable belief. "Roman isn't the villain... It was that woman's fault. Take care of him for me." The moment I heard that, I wanted to refuse. She was a classic love-blind fool. She'd been driven to death by the other woman and was still making excuses for the man who'd destroyed her. The System talked me into it. "You can't go back anyway. Complete the task, and I'll grant you one wish." I thought it over and nodded. "Fine. The original Corinne believed Roman would never betray her, right? Then let's make a deal. "Every time Roman cheats, a year of his life transfers to me. And if the day comes when he's burned through every last year, my task is complete." The System went quiet for three seconds. "Deal." 49 affairs meant 49 years gone. Roman was supposed to live to 80, and now he had just one year left. No. To be exact, once the clock struck midnight on New Year's, his time was up. The thought filled me with a deep, quiet sense of freedom. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Roman. "I won't be home for dinner. "About the stuff online, you know how it is. She lost a dare. Don't take it seriously." I didn't reply, so he didn't follow up. That was our unspoken arrangement, years in the making. "Corinne, you've always been so understanding. I'm just blowing off steam. "Don't worry. You're the only Mrs. Blackwell." I scoffed and called the kids inside for dinner. Christmas bells chimed faintly in the distance. I only had to make it seven more days. On New Year's Eve, fireworks would fill the entire sky. And I'd finally close the books on all of it. Chapter 2 The next day, Roman didn't come home alone. He walked in holding Tiffany's hand. "Corinne, we need to talk." I looked up at him, a thread of unease pulling tight in my chest. He had never brought a woman home before, let alone paraded one in front of me. "Tiffany's grandfather is seriously ill. His only wish is to see her get married." I frowned slightly. "And?" Roman hesitated before finally saying it. "So, we need to get a divorce." The air in the room went still. A divorce? I had endured ten years of this. I was so close to the finish line that I could taste it, and now, right at the last stretch, he wanted to throw me out? When I didn't speak for a long time, something like guilt flickered across Roman's face. "It's just for a month. Once her grandfather passes peacefully, we'll remarry right away." Tiffany let the tears fall right on cue. "Please, Corinne. I'm begging you." She walked toward me, and her knees started to buckle like she was actually going to kneel. "The doctors say he only has a few days left." I didn't move, but my mind was racing. If I wasn't legally Mrs. Blackwell when Roman died, how much of the estate would I lose? The thought of Tiffany and my three children fighting over the inheritance made my stomach turn. No. I couldn't let that happen. For the original Corinne, for my children, and for myself, I had to hold on to my position as Roman's wife. I looked Roman straight in the eye. "New Year's is right around the corner, and the family gathering is coming up. Don't embarrass everyone in front of the relatives. Wait until after the holiday, and then you two can put on whatever show you want." "No!" Tiffany shrieked, tears pouring instantly. "I'm afraid my grandfather won't make it that long!" She dropped to her knees for real this time, fingers clutching the hem of my pants, her eyes red and swollen. "Please, Corinne. He's the only family I have left. If he doesn't get to see me married, he won't be able to rest in peace, and I won't want to go on living either." The way Roman looked at her was pure anguish, and when he turned to me, irritation had crept into his expression. "Corinne, just do me this one favor. It's not an unreasonable ask." I smiled bitterly. "Roman, I've been doing you favors for ten years. You've had 49 mistresses, and I never once lost my temper at you or said a bad word about you to anyone. "I've taken care of this house, your parents, and our three children without a single complaint. And now you want me to give up my place as your wife?" "It's just one month!" he pressed. "No." I stood up, firmer than I had ever been. "That was your promise to me, and you need to keep your word." Roman remembered his promise, and for a moment, he looked caught between the two of us. Tiffany buried her face in her hands and sobbed. "Forget it. Forget it. I'll just go be with my grandfather." She pulled herself up from the floor, then made a show of crumpling back down, her whole body trembling. Roman looked devastated. He pulled Tiffany into his arms and looked at me, his expression turning cold. "Corinne, I'm not asking. You've always gone along with what I wanted, and that's not changing now." I bit back a laugh. In my head, the plan was already forming. If I refused to sign, he'd have to go through the courts, and a contested divorce took at least two months. In six days, on New Year's Eve, it would all be over. When he saw me heading for the door, Roman grabbed my wrist. "Where do you think you're going?" I gave him one cold glance. "I don't want to look at the two of you. I'm leaving." Roman sneered, wearing the look of a man who thought he'd figured me out. "Think you can just run off and dodge the divorce? Going to tip off my parents, is that it?" He dragged me toward the door. "We're going to the county court right now. We're getting this done today." Chapter 3 On the way to the county court, Roman held my hand in a death grip, as if he was afraid I'd throw myself out of the moving car. "Corinne, it's just one month. I promise." I didn't answer. I just gently pulled my hand free. Roman grabbed it again, harder this time. "Tiffany and I won't go public, and there won't be a ceremony. Nobody outside will know. You'll still be Mrs. Blackwell." I stayed quiet, but my mind was working fast, figuring out how to blow this wide open. If it became a public spectacle, he couldn't very well force me into anything. I slipped my hand into my pocket and quietly sent a text. In my contacts, there was a name listed as "James Whitley (Reporter)". Three years ago, he'd broken a scandal about Roman and nearly gotten crushed by the Blackwell family's retaliation. I was the one who'd called them off. He had no love for Roman, and he owed me a favor. We finally pulled up in front of the county court. The moment we stepped out of the car, a cluster of reporters closed in. "Mr. Blackwell, are you here to file for divorce? You went public with Ms. Vale yesterday. Are you making it official with her now?" "Mrs. Blackwell, do you have anything to say about your husband's infidelity? You've put up with it for so long. Why is this the breaking point?" Roman froze. He clearly hadn't expected to be ambushed, and for a moment, he had no idea how to respond. I looped my arm through his and smiled graciously. "You've got it all wrong. We're not here for a divorce. Today is our tenth wedding anniversary. We came back to revisit where it all started." Roman's arm went rigid against mine. A few seconds passed before he collected himself and managed a thin, easy smile. "That's right." The reporters looked stunned but kept pressing. "Then what about Ms. Vale?" "Tiffany is a new artist Roman's company just signed." I kept the smile on my face, though it was getting harder to hold. "The announcement was a promotional teaser for her upcoming show. Right, honey?" Roman clenched his jaw and gave a short nod. "Right." I seized the moment, pulling him back toward the car so we could leave. That was when a scream cut through the air. "Someone's about to jump!" Across the street from the county court, on the rooftop of an office building, a figure in white stood at the edge. The wind was strong enough to make her sway, and she looked like she could topple at any second. It was Tiffany. My heart sank. This had just gotten a lot more complicated. Sure enough, Roman couldn't stop himself from shouting. "Tiffany, don't do anything stupid!" Tiffany looked down at him, tears streaming, her voice cracking. "I can't live without you, Roman." Roman grabbed at his hair in a panic. "Come down! I'll divorce her! I'll do it right now!" He spun around to face me, desperation in his eyes. "Corinne, get inside. We're getting divorced." Every reporter's camera swung toward me, lenses trained on my ashen face. I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. Chapter 4 "Is this divorce mutual?" The clerk behind the counter looked up, her eyes sharp with suspicion. I opened my mouth to say no, but Roman's fingers dug into the soft flesh between my thumb and forefinger, and the pain swallowed the word before it left my throat. The clerk asked again. Roman's other hand pressed down on the back of my neck, forcing my head into a nod, once, then again. The clerk stood up, visibly angry. "Sir, this constitutes coercion." Roman smiled coldly. "Fine. Go ahead and ask her if it's mutual." He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "Think about your three children. If you don't sign, they won't be Blackwells by tomorrow." My whole body went rigid. I looked up at him in disbelief. "Roman, they're your children." "So what?" His eyes were flat and empty. "The Blackwell family doesn't need them. I can have as many as I want. But Corinne, can you really afford to take that gamble?" I couldn't. After ten years of endurance and 49 betrayals, I had poured everything I had into this. What I was waiting for wasn't just Roman's death, but a future where my three children could inherit everything that was rightfully theirs. To protect them, I forced the words out. "The divorce is mutual." The clerk stared at me for a few long seconds before sitting back down and sliding the form across the counter. When I signed the last line, my wrist was trembling, not from grief, but from the bitterness of being outmaneuvered. Roman snatched the divorce papers and bolted for the door. Outside, Tiffany had already come down from the rooftop. She was wrapped in Roman's coat, her face pale, but her eyes bright with triumph. Roman rushed to her and pulled her into his arms. "Tiffany, I'm a free man." He took her hand, drew her close, and kissed her right there in front of everyone. It was long and deep, like the rest of the world didn't exist. The reporters descended. "Mrs. Blackwell, or rather, Ms. Halstead, how are you feeling right now?" "Will you be seeking custody?" "Regarding the division of assets..." I didn't answer any of them. I watched Roman take Tiffany by the hand and walk back into the county court. This time, it was the marriage window. They sat side by side, filling out forms, signing papers, posing for the photo. When the camera flash went off, Tiffany was beaming. She couldn't post fast enough, uploading the photo with a caption that read, "Here's to forever, @RomanBlackwell." Within a minute, the comments hit 10,000. I went back to the Blackwell residence. Douglas and Judith had already heard the news and were waiting when I arrived. Douglas was so angry he'd hurled his teacup against the floor. "That ungrateful little bastard!" Judith clutched her chest, her face drained of color. "Corinne, don't you worry. I will never accept that woman. The moment her grandfather dies, I'll make Roman divorce her." I kept my head down and said nothing. I couldn't afford to wait for that. There were only five days left. Then a new idea began to take shape. I picked up the phone and called a company called Luminos Technologies. They specialized in legally extracting memory fragments from the dying, and their work was used in medical research, legal proceedings, and estate disputes. It was time to change my approach. Chapter 5 When I walked into Roman's office, Tiffany was perched on his lap, feeding him grapes. When she saw me, she nearly fell off. Roman frowned. "Corinne? What are you doing here?" "Working." I flipped the badge hanging around my neck so he could see it. It read "Pinnacle Insurance Co." "Any chance the boss wants to help out his ex-wife's sales numbers?" Tiffany let out a mocking laugh. "Wow, Corinne. That's quite a change of pace." Roman's frown deepened. A down-on-her-luck ex-wife showing up at his office clearly wasn't doing his image any favors either. "Are you short on cash? The divorce settlement gave you two apartments, plus the—" "I need to think long-term," I cut in. "Real estate doesn't put food on the table. I haven't worked in ten years, so I need to learn how to support myself." Roman studied me for a few seconds, then waved me off impatiently. "I've got plenty of insurance already. I don't need—" I pulled out a contract and placed it on his desk. "This is an accidental death policy. High coverage. You can name Tiffany as the beneficiary, or the two of you can buy matching policies for each other. Think of it as a symbol of your love." Tiffany's eyes lit up. "That's actually really romantic, babe." Roman glanced at her with that indulgent look of his and finally nodded. "Fine. Put Tiffany down as the beneficiary." New Year's Eve arrived before I knew it, and Douglas and Judith called me back to the house. "Corinne, family should be together on a night like this. Come for the children, at least." I agreed, because I needed to be there to witness Roman's final moment. At 6:00 pm, Roman walked in with Tiffany glued to his side as if they shared a spine. He glanced at me with a trace of guilt. "Tiffany's grandfather is doing better. He stabilized. So, the remarriage is going to have to wait a while longer." I kept my eyes on my tea and didn't look up. "Suit yourself. Whether it's one year or ten, that's your business." He frowned, annoyed. "Corinne, don't be like that. You've always been the bigger person." I gave a dry laugh. "Haven't I? Big enough to hand my husband over to someone else." That shut him up. At 11:30 pm, everyone gathered on the terrace. The staff had set up fireworks, and the children were running around in excitement. I pulled my three kids close to me. A security camera sat under the eaves, angled to capture the entire terrace and everyone on it. I wanted that footage. Tiffany clung to Roman the whole time. Douglas and Judith sat on the other side, stiff-faced with barely concealed anger. The countdown began, and everyone shouted along. "Ten, nine, eight... Three, two, one!" I kept my eyes on Roman. In those final seconds, he was still smiling. On the last beat, the first firework burst open across the distant sky. "Happy New Year!" The sky erupted all at once, fireworks blooming everywhere until it was almost as bright as day. The children screamed with delight. Douglas and Judith managed tight smiles, while Tiffany threw her arms around Roman's neck and kissed him. "Happy New Year, babe!" Roman laughed and wrapped his arms around her. Then, just like that, the laugh froze on his face. His right hand flew to his chest, fingers clenching around the fabric. "Babe?" Tiffany felt the shift before she understood it. Roman opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His knees buckled, and he dropped straight back like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Inside my head, the System's voice rang out. "Task complete. Lifespan transfer initiated."