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The husband Raymond's voice came: "Thank you for your hard work, my dear. You prepare so many meals for us every day. Marrying you is a blessing that I have cultivated for three lifetimes!"

He gently buried his head in my shoulder and rubbed my cheek. However, this intimate action made me feel cold. The next second, I reached out and pushed him out of the kitchen, "It's too fumes inside, don't come in."

Actually, I didn't know how to cook before, but in order to take care of my mother-in-law, I learned it little by little. Raymond is different from other men. He never thinks it is his wife's duty to cook, and he is grateful for my care for him and my mother-in-law. After seven years of marriage, our feelings have not faded at all, but have become more and more sticky.

But if he hadn't publicly accused me of being a ruthless murderer who killed my mother-in-law in my previous life, I'm afraid I would never know that the man I loved for seven years would have such an unbearable and despicable side.

As soon as I put the food into the bowls and plates, he came in through the crack of the door again, gently hugged my waist, and said considerately: "You have worked too hard. I will go to bring food to mom today. I think we can pick her up in the next two days after the examination. Then we will go on a self-driving trip to celebrate our wedding anniversary. I have chosen the place."

After that, he took out the lunch box and divided a part of it to take to my mother-in-law. My hands froze. Travel? Is there still a chance? At this time in my previous life, three hours later, my mother-in-law would have committed suicide by taking pills. When I rushed there, I saw only her cold and stiff body.

The accusations from my best friend, the abuse from passers-by, the slap from Raymond... those memories haunt me like a nightmare. I know very well that I can't go down that old path again.