Last Life She Killed Me for My Rich Husband, This Life I Let Her Have Him Chapter 08

Last Life She Killed Me for My Rich Husband, This Life I Let Her Have Him Chapter 08

The next day, my high school alumni group chat exploded. The few classmates who had led the mockery all lost their jobs on 

the same day. 

I scrolled through 999+ notifications and didn’t need to guess who was behind it. 

Then I remembered. In the last life, Benjamin and I had also 

been fired for no reason around this time. With no other options, we started our own business. 

So that explained it. 

But I hadn’t said anything bad about my sister back then. Could it be… she was already hating me that deeply? 

Before I knew it, my due date arrived. 

Money got you the best of everything: a team of top doctors. and nurses, a luxury postpartum center that burned through six figures a day. 

But Charles was overseas and couldn’t make it back. 

On the day I gave birth, my parents and a swarm of relatives I 

didn’t even recognize crowded around me. Half of them I’d 

never met in my last life, but now they were all here, cozying up and fussing over me. 

Once they realized the only people in the hospital were medical staff and the childcare team, the compliments shifted to snide 

remarks. 

“Emma’s having a baby, and the father doesn’t even show his face?” 

“Well, he’s probably unhappy it’s a girl. She’ll have to try again. Families like that need sons.” 

“I feel bad for Emma. All that money, but she’s kind of pitiful. She’d be better off with an ordinary guy, just living a simple 

life.” 

“Right? Olivia and her husband seem like the happy couple.” 

My sister sat nearby, smiling modestly, one hand resting on her own still–flat stomach. “Benjamin’s not very capable,” she said with fake humility. “I just like that he’s good to me.” 

“He’s a big boss and still not capable? Then the rest of us are beggars.” 

She kept deflecting, but her smile only grew. “He just runs a recycling business. That’s not exactly a big deal.” 

“He works from dawn to dusk hauling scrap for every penny. But I believe he’ll make something of himself someday.” 

Just then, the clouds parted, and sunlight caught on her perfectly manicured nails. They sparkled. 

In my last life, I never had manicures when I was pregnant. Not because Benjamin forbid it, but because I worked too hard. Nails just got in the way. 

Now here was my sister with her soft hands, porcelain skin, looking for all the world like a lady of leisure who’d never lifted a finger. 

She wanted to copy my path, yet she just forgot what it took to get there.

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