My Reborn Ex Dumped Me Again. Joke’s on Him, I Married Better Chapter 02

My Reborn Ex Dumped Me Again. Joke’s on Him, I Married Better Chapter 02

The taxi pulled up to the Vance estate. The living room lights still burned.

I pushed open the door. The sofa was buried under the engagement gifts Grayson had brought Celeste that day.

Celeste held up a diamond necklace, and when she spotted me, she gave it a playful shake. “Sera, look. Grayson got me this. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“Beautiful.”

I swapped my heels for house slippers and headed toward the guest room. My mother emerged from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly cut strawberries, all smiles. “Girls, come have some strawberries. Just bought them. So sweet.”

Celeste skipped over and popped one into her mouth.

My mother took one too, then waved at me. “Seraphina, come eat. Do I have to call you for everything?”

I had been back for three years. They still didn’t know I was allergic to strawberries.

“I’m allergic.”

My mother blinked, then let out a little “Oh!” and tapped her temple. Not a trace of apology in her voice. “Slipped my mind entirely. Well, don’t eat them then. Celeste, you have more.”

She nudged the whole bowl toward Celeste.

Behind me, my father spoke up. “I’ve packed everything for your marriage to the Harringtons. They’re sending someone tomorrow. Don’t say anything foolish.”

I opened the door to the guest room and stepped inside.

My father followed. He pulled a bank card from his pocket and held it out. “Twenty thousand. Call it a wedding gift. Don’t embarrass yourself in that house. You’re still a Vance.”

I took it. Said nothing.

The diamond necklace Grayson gave Celeste for her engagement cost more than that in raw stones alone.

I stood in the middle of the room and looked around. This used to be a storage closet.

A single bed. An old armoire. Curtains stiff from too many washes, their edges fraying into threads.

The bedsheets were castoffs my mother dug out of the linen closet, gray and lifeless.

Down the hall, Celeste’s door hung half open.

A sprawling primary suite. Plush beige wool carpeting. A walk-in closet lined with couture gowns and limited-edition handbags.

On her nightstand sat a family portrait — Celeste wrapped in my parents’ arms, beaming.

I wasn’t in that photograph.

Passing the living room, I caught Celeste’s voice, syrupy with pleading. “Grayson, I want that Vera Wang gown for the wedding next month. You promised me ages ago.”

“Anything you want.”

In my last life, when I married Grayson, my mother feared I’d humiliate her. She gritted her teeth and bought me a few decent outfits. Even ordered a custom gown.

So when I stood at the altar, I at least looked like a respectable bride.

But that dress never fit right.

On my wedding day, as I stood beside Grayson, the whispers floated up from the pews. “That’s the real Vance daughter? Can’t even manage a gown that fits. You can take the girl out of the gutter…”

Grayson never glanced at me. Not once.

This time, I was marrying a dying old man to cure him. The Vances didn’t even bother pretending.

The next morning, the Harringtons sent their man.

When the steward laid the marriage contract and asset list in my father’s hands, his eyes bulged.

“An eight-figure settlement? Three penthouse suites downtown?”

My mother’s voice shook. She gripped the paper, scanning it again and again. “But… isn’t she just supposed to be a deathbed bride for some invalid? Why would they offer all this?”

The steward smiled and offered no explanation. He turned to me. “Miss Vance, my employer asked me to inquire — do you have any requests? We can accommodate anything.”

I lifted my gaze. “None. Just set the date.”

The steward nodded respectfully and took his leave.

My parents stared at the contract, giddy for a long while before they seemed to remember I was there. “Seraphina, you’ve landed in sheer luck. Who knew that old man would be this generous? We’ll hold onto all this for you. It’s not like you’ll need it in that house.”

“Mm.”

I didn’t argue. I didn’t fight.

Celeste stood off to the side, biting her lip, her expression souring.

She had dreamed of her wedding for years. Grayson’s settlement had only been six hundred thousand.

I was being sold to a dying man and receiving far more than she ever would.

When Grayson arrived that evening, she was already in the middle of a tantrum.

“Grayson, Seraphina’s getting more than I did. I don’t care — I want the full pink diamond set. You only got me the necklace before.”

“Fine. I’ll get it for you.”

He soothed her, stroking her hair. But as he did, his gaze drifted, almost against his will, toward me on the terrace.

I stood there in a washed-out cotton dress, my face turned to the side, sunlight catching on my lashes as I watered the flowers.

He suddenly remembered his last life. Seraphina had stood on that same terrace, watering those same flowers.

When she spotted him coming home, her eyes would light up like stars. She’d hurry over, bring him his slippers, take his briefcase from his hands.

He found her irritating back then. He always sidestepped her, and the light in her eyes dimmed a little more each time.

“Grayson?”

Celeste tugged at his arm. “What are you staring at?”