Chapter 1My Older Husband and My Younger Husband

Three years of marriage to Harvey Wen, and we were still as polite as strangers. He was gentle and considerate, always showering me with gifts and money, a man who never seemed to get angry.

Until he suddenly reverted to his eighteen-year-old self.

He demanded a divorce, threatening to jump off a building if I didn’t agree. I reluctantly gave in. In his glee, he ran off to an all-night internet cafe, dyed his hair blond, and adorned his ears with half a dozen piercings. He even slapped temporary tattoos of dragons and tigers on his arms. It was only then that I realized the old Harvey had been a bit of a punk.

On the day we were supposed to finalize the divorce, a man who looked exactly like Harvey appeared in our home. The adult version was back.

I looked from the big one to the small one, a long-forgotten silence falling over me.

So… are we getting this divorce or not?

* * *

What do you do when your gentle, wealthy husband suddenly turns eighteen and becomes a raging rebel?

I stood in the middle of our living room, completely at a loss, staring at the hostile boy who was supposed to be Harvey. He was holding a kitchen knife, his face a mask of panic.

"There's no way I'm married! Especially not to someone like you!"

A bitter taste filled my mouth. "Harvey… honey, could you please put the knife down?"

"No way! You'll just try to hug me and kiss me again, you pervert!"

I flushed with embarrassment. A few moments ago, I’d just stepped out of the shower, barely dressed, and had wrapped my arms around him from behind, planting a kiss on his neck.

His reaction was explosive. A deep blush had spread from his cheeks all the way down his neck as he’d screamed, calling me a seductress. When I’d tried to explain that I was his wife, he’d been stunned into disbelief. I’d moved closer to figure out what was going on, and he’d grabbed the fruit knife, holding it out as if I were about to defile him.

"Harvey, I won't kiss you," I said, trying to sound calm. "Don't you want to know why you've time-traveled ten years into the future?"

He frowned, but his guard didn't drop. He finally lowered the knife, his eyes averted. "Just… don't walk around dressed like that in front of me. I'm not your husband."

I glanced down at myself. I was wearing a perfectly normal lace slip dress. A little form-fitting, perhaps, and the neckline was admittedly eye-catching. The twenty-eight-year-old Harvey always lost control when I wore it. It was one of the few times he ever showed any real passion. Today was supposed to be one of those nights, which was why I'd been so forward.

I quickly grabbed a robe. This younger Harvey obviously wasn't ready for that kind of fun.

The atmosphere was thick with awkwardness. His frustration was a palpable force in the room.

"You stay here," he finally said. "We're getting a divorce tomorrow."

"No," I replied without thinking. Harvey and I had met on a blind date. While there wasn't much passion, our three years of marriage had been respectful and calm. Besides, ours was a business alliance. This marriage was about more than just the two of us; it was about two corporations.

But the boy in front of me couldn’t possibly understand that. And even if he could, he wouldn't care.

"Woman! I don't care what you're scheming, we're getting a divorce!" he declared. "My life is the untamed wilderness! It cannot be chained! I want freedom!"

I stared at him, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"My dad set this up, didn't he?" he demanded. "That old bastard loves to control my life."

"No, it was your mom." It had been his mother who had approached my family about the match.

He snorted. "I knew it!"

He stormed into the walk-in closet and started rummaging through the clothes, his face wrinkling in disgust at the racks of black, white, and gray suits. "What is this trash? Don't tell me you bought this for me."

"You bought it yourself," I said, exasperated.

He muttered under his breath, "My taste can't be this bad."