(Michelle Lui's POV)
The weekend arrived with a silence that felt both freeing and cruel.
For once, there were no unread messages lighting up my phone. No half-hearted good mornings. No lunch reminders that meant nothing. Just stillness and the faint sound of water rippling from the koi pond outside my window.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the sunlight stretch lazily across my room. Then I sighed.
"Okay," I told myself. "We've done crying. Now we do thriving."
After all, I hadn't traveled back in time just to spend my second youth crying over a boy who categorized emotions the way other people sorted spreadsheets.
If I'd learned anything from two lifetimes — one as a not so satisfied wife, and one as a delusional college girl — it was that heartbreak passes, but smart investments last forever.
So after breakfast, I turned on my computer, logged into my trading platform, and began Operation Future Billionaire.
