Letting Go Before the Light Fades

“Ms. Schuman, are you done signing the document?”

Minerva Schuman blinked, disoriented, as she looked around the city hall lobby. It wasn’t until the staff member repeated the question that she finally snapped out of it.

She had been reborn.

Not just to any day, but to the very moment she and Benedict Robertson were registering for their marriage certificate.

She still remembered how thrilled she had been in her previous life, waking early and practically dragging him to join the line, her joy barely contained.

Now, as her fingers brushed over the application form, her expression held no trace of that joy.

The Robertson family was the most powerful in Jinovia, known for their rigid expectations and complex etiquette. As the heir, Benedict needed a wife who would be his greatest asset—gentle, devoted, and willing to center her entire life around him and his family. So, in her past life, Minerva did exactly that.

She gave up everything—her career, her independence, and even her identity. She quit her job, raised their children, cared for their elders, and sacrificed herself to the role of the perfect wife. By her 50s, she was exhausted, ill, and confined to bed.

That was when she found the letter. It was addressed not to her but to her younger sister, Rowena.

“You’re a free-spirited bird, meant to soar in the sky. I love you too much to cage you. Your sister looks a bit like you, and when I see her, I can almost pretend it’s you beside me. She takes care of the children, manages the household, and handles everything. You, my love, only need to be happy, brilliant, and free.”

Only then did Minerva realize—Benedict had never loved her. He had always loved Rowena, and he had married Minerva for one reason only.

The truth shattered her. When her son, Nigel, learned what had happened, he didn’t offer comfort. Instead, he appeared delighted.

“Mom, if Dad loves Aunt Rowena, then just divorce him already. You’ve never been a match for her. She’s a diplomat, and you’ve just been managing the house. She suits Dad way more. You’ve done all the hard work. If Aunt Rowena marries in, she won’t have to lift a finger. She and Dad can finally be happy together. Just let go, okay?”

Minerve died of rage right then and there.

Now, here she was again, returned to the day her life had started down that path.

One had to love oneself first. This time, she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

She was just about to speak when Benedict’s phone began to ring. It was a call from Rowena. The moment he saw the name, his cold expression softened. Without a word, he stepped aside to take the call.

Minerva did not know what was said on the other end, but Benedict returned a minute later.

“Minerva, Rowena twisted her ankle. As her brother-in-law, I should check on her. Just sign the papers and head home on your own.” With that, he turned and walked off, not even waiting for her response.

Seeing him leave, his assistant, Peter Walton, hurried after him.

“Mr. Robertson, the meeting at the company is about to start. The contract is worth over a hundred billion—”

“Cancel it.”

Benedict stepped on the gas, and his car disappeared into traffic in an instant.

As his figure vanished, all Minerva felt was a deep, bitter ache. In her past life, her heart and eyes were only for Benedict, but she never realized that his had always been full of Rowena. His affection had been so obvious. How had she not seen it? She had wasted her entire life.

From behind the counter, the staff member tapped on the glass window. “Ms. Schuman, are you still signing this?”

Minerva curled her lips into a smile, though it wasn’t quite genuine. “Yes.”

She picked up the pen and, stroke by stroke, signed a name on the application form—Rowena Schuman.

Then, calmly, she took out Rowena’s birth certificate from the folder where her parents kept all the family’s important documents and handed it over. If Benedict loved her that much, then Minerva would give him exactly what he wanted.

Walking out of city hall, Minerva glanced down at the marriage certificate in her hand and let out a faint, mocking smile.

The groom’s name was listed as Benedict Robertson, but under the bride, it said Rowena Schuman. She wondered what kind of expression Benedict would wear when he finally saw the certificate.

Just as she slipped the document into her bag, her phone rang. She answered, and the voice of the minister, Harry Tillery, came through, tinged with regret.

“Minerva, are you sure you want to resign from your post as a diplomat? The Foreign Affairs Ministry only accepts the best of the best, and you’re one of the most promising. I was even planning to offer you an overseas posting, but you suddenly said you wanted to quit. I know family means a lot to you, but still, I have to say something—”

Before he could finish, Minerva cut in, her voice calm and firm. “Mr. Tillery, I’m sorry. I was confused before. I’m not resigning. I accept the overseas assignment.”

In her past life, she walked away from her position as a diplomat, and that coveted overseas post went straight to Rowena.

Minerva had foolishly believed that giving up her dreams for love would win Benedict’s heart. Instead, it had won her nothing but a life confined within the Robertson residence, where her brilliance slowly withered like a flower left in the dark.

Meanwhile, Rowena had taken the assignment, made a name for herself, and earned national recognition. Students admired her, and the country celebrated her.

This time, Minerva wouldn’t let love chain her down. She would never again sacrifice her future for Benedict. From this day forward, she would live for herself and shine on her own terms.

On the other end of the line, Harry was momentarily stunned by Minerva’s response. Then, his voice lit up, brimming with excitement and relief.

“Great, that’s fantastic! I’ll submit your name right away. Minerva, you don’t need to come in for the next few days. Just stay home and get ready. You’ll be leaving in half a month.”

Minerva paused. Half a month? That date… It was the exact day of… No. It was Rowena and Benedict’s wedding.

She smiled faintly and nodded. “Got it.” With that, she ended the call.

With both major tasks done, a surprising sense of calm settled over her. She casually flagged down a cab and headed home.

Outside the gates of the Robertson residence, she entered the security code. As the door swung open, a voice from inside startled her.

“Benedict, isn’t it kind of bad that you left Minerva all alone at city hall just for me?”

Benedict was crouched on the floor, gently massaging Rowena’s ankle. His usually cool voice was now warm, almost tender. “She’s always been understanding. She wouldn’t get upset over something like this. That’s exactly why I married her.”

Standing in the doorway, Minerva let out a soft, bitter laugh.

Understanding? Yeah, she was definitely understanding. So understanding, in fact, that this time, she had gone ahead and married him to his true love, Rowena.

Without sparing either of them a glance, she walked straight into the house. It wasn’t until Benedict heard the door close that he stood up and turned around.

Benedict set the ointment on the table and said evenly, “You’re back. Rowena twisted her ankle, and her leg has been hurting, so I was helping her massage it. Also, since she’s having trouble walking, she’ll be staying with us for a few days.”

Minerva gave him a faint smile. “Mm, I figured. Given your relationship now, that’s exactly what you should be doing. And her staying here? That makes perfect sense.”

The words sounded polite—perfectly so, but if listened closely, there was something underneath them. A second meaning was hidden beneath the surface.

Benedict opened his mouth to speak, but Rowena was quicker. She walked over with a smile and casually hooked her arm around Minerva’s. “Minerva, thank you for letting me crash here. I brought you a little something from my trip,” she said, picking up a nearby shopping bag and handing it over.

“But seriously, you’re still so young. Why do you always dress like an old lady? Look, I picked these out just for you while I was abroad.”

Minerva glanced down at her outfit—a simple black and white matching set. It wasn’t flashy, but it was elegant and appropriate—exactly what one would expect from the young mistress of the Robertson family.

She liked color, too. She was a woman, not a shadow. But in her past life, in the name of “propriety,” she discarded her youth without hesitation.

Rowena, seeing Minerva look down, mistook her silence for wounded pride. Her smile deepened. “Go on, try them on. You can wear them to work tomorrow.”

Before Minerva could respond, Benedict interjected, “Rowena, Minerva has already resigned. From now on, she’ll be at home, taking care of the household. These colors don’t suit her anymore. They suit you better. You should keep them.”

At that, Rowena’s eyes lit up. “Minerva, you really quit?”

The pride and barely concealed excitement in her voice made Minerva pause. Of course, she knew why Rowena was so thrilled. In her previous life, they attended the same school, joined the same department, and entered the Foreign Affairs Ministry side by side.

But at every step, Minerva had outshone her. Now that she had willingly stepped aside, how could Rowena not be delighted?

Minerva didn’t say a word. She simply stayed silent, letting the two of them continue with their assumptions.

Rowena took her silence as confirmation. Her face lit up with delight as she tugged on Benedict’s hand and said sweetly, “We’ve been chatting for a while. Benedict, I’m getting hungry. When are we eating?”

At that, Benedict turned to Minerva without hesitation. “It’s already late. You should be making dinner. Oh, and Rowena doesn’t eat green onions and cilantro, so don’t add any.”

Minerva had heard that familiar, matter-of-fact tone countless times before. But for the first time, it felt sharp and dismissive. In the past, he never had to remind her, and she would’ve already been in the kitchen by now. Cooking for someone only made sense when you loved them. Now that she no longer did, she had no desire to lift a finger for him.

She looked up at Benedict and said calmly, “I’m not feeling well. Have the maids cook.”

Benedict frowned. “Minerva, you know I’m used to your cooking.”

Used to it.

A flicker of bitterness stirred in her chest. Of course. She remembered how he used to suffer from frequent stomach issues and how particular he’d been with food. She spent countless hours learning recipes, adjusting flavors, and preparing milder meals that wouldn’t upset his stomach.

Over time, she cured his issues completely and spoiled him into someone so particular that even Michelin-starred chefs couldn’t please him. Only her cooking ever did.

She gave a faint smile. “Then maybe it’s time you get used to something else? What if I’m no longer around one day?”

Benedict blinked, confused. “Not around? Where would you go?”

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Rowena quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “How about… I cook dinner instead?”

“No!”

Benedict instinctively refused. “You were raised in comfort. How could you be around grease and smoke?”

His protectiveness caught Rowena off guard for a moment. Then, she smiled shyly.

Minerva, watching their affectionate exchange, gave a tight smile. Ignoring them completely, she said flatly, “Well, I’m not cooking,” and turned to head upstairs.

In the end, Benedict brought Rowena to a restaurant for dinner without her. He didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. Or maybe he did notice but simply didn’t care. After all, he was so certain of Minerva’s love, so sure she would never leave.

He probably thought she was just upset about being left alone at city hall earlier today. So the next day, in a rare show of effort, he canceled his meetings and took her dress shopping for the wedding. The entire bridal boutique was cleared out for it. Every staff member was present to serve Minerva and Minerva alone.

When the curtain was drawn back and she stepped out in her gown, the entire room fell silent. The dress was pure white, with delicate floral vines spiraling from the shoulders downward. Tiny crystal roses adorned each vine, catching the light and giving the gown a shimmering three-dimensional texture.

Bathed in soft golden light, Minerva looked like a goddess walking on air.

The staff were stunned, their eyes filled with awe. Even Rowena, standing to the side, couldn’t hide the flash of jealousy in her gaze. She slowly walked over, her eyes sweeping over the gown before she gasped in admiration. “Minerva, this dress is stunning. I almost want to try it on myself.”

Minerva turned to her with a faint smile. “Then go ahead. Try it on.”

No one had ever seen a bride offer her wedding dress to someone else. One of the staff members quickly stepped forward, alarmed. “Miss, that’s bad luck.”

Minerva didn’t flinch. She seemed unconcerned with superstition. Instead, she turned her gaze to Benedict. When she stepped out in the dress, he hadn’t reacted. His expression remained calm and unreadable.

But the moment he heard that Rowena might try it on, his throat bobbed, and something flickered in his eyes—longing.

Minerva knew exactly what that meant. In his heart, he had already accepted that he could never marry the woman he loved. Still, he longed to see Rowena in a wedding dress, even if it wasn’t meant for her.

So, the curtain opened once more, and Rowena stepped out, wearing the same dress Minerva had worn.

“Minerva, this dress is gorgeous. It just doesn’t look right on me. It’s a bit big and doesn’t fit well,” she said, frowning at her reflection in the mirror.

Minerva smiled slightly, then turned to the staff. “Adjust the size. Make it fit her,” she said.

The words hung in the air. A moment later, both Rowena and Benedict, whose eyes had never left Rowena, snapped out of their daze.

“What do you mean by that?”

Minerva gave a faint smile. “Oh, it’s nothing. The wedding is in a few days. I think I should lose a little weight.”

That was a lie.

Thanks to her little maneuver, the wife’s name on the marriage certificate was Rowena’s. So naturally, the upcoming wedding belonged to Rowena too. Naturally, the dress needed to fit her.

While picking out the rings, Minerva casually handed Rowena a massive diamond, well over ten carats, to try on. She didn’t seem to care whether she liked it herself. Instead, she kept asking Rowena for her opinion. Once Rowena said she liked it and that it fit perfectly, Minerva sealed the order.

The same thing happened with the wedding shoes.

One move after another, it finally began to dawn on Benedict that something wasn’t right.

As they stepped out of the boutique, he was just about to speak when Rowena tugged at his sleeve. “Benedict, I want mango ice cream.”

Naturally, Benedict prioritized Rowena’s request. Without asking anything, he turned and walked off. Soon, he returned with two cones, both mango flavored. He handed one to Minerva, but she didn’t take it. “I’m allergic to mango.”

A flicker of awkwardness crossed Benedict’s face. “I’ll go get you something else.”

As soon as he disappeared from view, Rowena lifted her cone smugly, her gaze fixed on Minerva. “Minerva, you’ve figured it out by now, haven’t you? Benedict has always loved me. Otherwise, why would he remember I like mango but not that you’re allergic to it?”

The taunting words hung in the air, but Minerva’s expression remained perfectly calm.

That, of course, didn’t sit well with Rowena. She stepped closer to Minerva, and her voice grew sharper, more venomous with each word.

“I could never outshine you growing up, but this time, I won completely. Minerva, how does it feel knowing the man you’ve loved for so long has only ever had eyes for me? God, I’m thrilled. You’ve always overshadowed me, but now? I finally get to watch you break.”

A cruel smile curled on her lips, beautiful like a poppy but deadly like poison. It sent a cold shiver down Minerva’s spine.

Before she could react, Rowena suddenly shoved her. Minerva lost her balance, toppling backward down the stairs like she was falling through space.

Everything spun. On instinct, she reached out and grabbed Rowena’s outstretched hand. Loud thuds echoed as both women tumbled down the stairs together.

Minerva felt like her bones had shattered. As she tried to push herself up, a sharp cramp tore through her lower abdomen. A warm, sticky flow spread beneath her. Her hands trembled as she looked down—blood. So much blood.

Beside her, Rowena was already crying out in pain.

“Rowena!”

Benedict’s voice came from around the corner. He was walking over, and the ice cream cone slipped from his hand the moment he saw them.

Even though both women had fallen, he rushed straight past Minerva and dropped to his knees beside Rowena. Without hesitation, he scooped her into his arms and ran for the car. He never even glanced at Minerva, who was left lying there, motionless in a pool of her own blood.

As if to mock her pain, dark clouds rolled in overhead, and rain began to pour. The rainwater washed over the blood beneath her, sending thin red streams trickling into the gutter.

Agonizing pain knifed through her stomach. Her limbs went limp, and her vision blurred. Then, everything went dark.

…

When Minerva finally woke up, she was in a hospital bed. A stranger had called for help—a passerby.

Benedict had been too busy with Rowena’s injuries. So busy, he might not have even noticed that she had fallen too. Perhaps even if he had seen her in that state, he wouldn’t have cared. Because she wasn’t the one he held in his heart.

It didn’t matter. After all, the name on the marriage certificate listed Rowena as his wife.

Pale-faced, Minerva was just about to get up and sign herself out of the hospital when the door to her ward swung open.

A doctor stepped in, holding a report. “Ms. Schuman, congratulations. You’re pregnant! That fall was serious, but thankfully, you got here in time. Otherwise, the baby might not have made it.”

The words echoed in her ears, sharp and metallic, like a ringing bell she couldn’t silence.

How could she have forgotten? In her previous life, it was around this exact time that she’d gotten pregnant too. Back then, the news that she was carrying Benedict’s child had filled her with joy. She had sworn to be a good mother, to give the baby all the love and care she could.

In the end… what had that child grown up to do? He had stood by her sickbed and urged her to divorce so that his father could finally be with his aunt.

At the thought, a bitter smile touched her lips. Her voice was quiet but steady with resolve. “Doctor, I don’t want this baby. Please schedule the procedure.”

The doctor looked surprised but didn’t press. Instead, he simply handed her a consent form. “You’ll need a family member’s signature before we can proceed.”

That night, Minerva returned home with the abortion consent form in hand.

Benedict was in the kitchen, clumsily making soup for Rowena, who had fractured a bone in the fall. When he saw Minerva come in, he barely looked at her. He was completely unconcerned with her injuries.

She let out a hollow laugh. Then, carefully concealing the form in her hand, she approached.

“Benedict, the wedding planner called. The venue is almost fully set up. They need your signature on this document,” she said.

Benedict, clearly out of his depth in the kitchen and distracted by Rowena’s condition, didn’t even hesitate. “You can handle that stuff. Don’t bother me with these little things next time.”

He grabbed the paper and, without glancing at it, signed his name on the abortion consent form.