Chapter 1He Put Me Second

On the day Eleanor Whitmore’s will was read, the attorney reached the final page in front of the entire family.

“For the postnuptial trust held under Mr. Adrian Whitmore’s name, the first-priority family beneficiaries are…”

He paused and looked at me.

But the names written on the page were not mine.

They were Paige Avery—the woman Adrian had brought back—and her son, Noah Whitmore.

Adrian was sitting beside me, filing the boy’s nails.

The attorney lowered his voice.

“Mr. Whitmore, would you like to confirm this? Mrs. Whitmore is not listed as a primary beneficiary.”

Adrian did not look up.

“Confirmed.”

I looked at him.

Only then did he explain, his tone flat.

“Paige and Noah have only just returned to the Whitmore family. On paper, they need some security.”

“You’ve been with me for years, Willa. You’re not short of anything.”

In my previous life, after that list was read aloud, everyone assumed Paige and her son were the people Adrian truly meant to protect.

The boy kissed Adrian’s hand and sweetly called him Dad.

Before I died, Adrian held my hand and told me that the next time the trust was amended, he would put me back in first place.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment before the attorney closed the file.

Paige looked deeply apologetic.

“Willa, could you sign as Noah’s guardianship witness? He’s still so young. He doesn’t understand any of this.”

Adrian looked at me, impatience already showing in his eyes.

“Don’t make my grandmother’s will look ugly.”

In my previous life, I signed.

This time, I pushed the photocopy of our marriage certificate back in front of him.

“What’s ugly about it?”

“I’ll step aside. That way, you and your son can be legitimate.”

…

The moment the photocopy stopped beside Adrian’s hand, the conference room went silent.

Noah still had his hand resting in Adrian’s palm.

The edges of his nails had just been filed, leaving a thin white rim.

“Daddy, blow on them.”

Adrian lowered his head and gently blew across the child’s fingers.

The motion was soft.

As if the one afraid of pain was him.

The attorney stood nearby with a pen in his hand, his voice even lower than before.

“Mrs. Whitmore, if you refuse to act as guardianship witness, the trust execution will require an additional verification process.”

This trust was part of a family arrangement Eleanor had overseen before her death. It included marital assets, so a spouse’s acknowledgment could not simply be skipped.

Only then did Adrian look up.

“She’ll sign.”

I looked at him.

“Who said that?”

His brow creased slightly.

“Willa.”

Whenever he said my name like that, it had always felt like a soft blade.

It did not cut deep at first.

But it was enough to press every word I wanted to say back down my throat.

In my previous life, he had called me the same way.

When I signed my name, Paige thanked me with red eyes.

Noah wrapped his arms around Adrian’s neck and said Daddy was the best.

Afterward, every time anyone asked about that trust, Adrian would say:

“Willa was there.”

“She agreed too.”

I flipped to the second page of the document.

The witness line was blank.

On the beneficiary line, Paige Avery and Noah Whitmore were written side by side.

I picked up the pen.

Adrian’s expression eased a little.

The next second, I wrote a sentence in the blank space.

Spouse present. Refuses to sign as guardianship witness.

Adrian’s face cooled at once.

“Willa James!”

I did not look at him. I asked the attorney directly:

“If that note is included, can the process still continue?”

The attorney glanced at Adrian and did not answer immediately.

Adrian reached out and pressed his hand over the paper.

His knuckles turned white, one by one.

“Do you have to do this today?”

I looked at his hand.

“This is my right to informed consent.”

“You never used to fight over things like this.”

“No one used to ask me to sign something like this.”

I pulled the document out from under his hand.

“If I’m not the first beneficiary, I need a record of that.”

Adrian stared at me.

His gaze was very cold.

But Noah suddenly tugged at his sleeve.

“Daddy, will I still get to live in the big house?”

Noah had been back with the Whitmores for less than half a month.

Adrian had said Eleanor had met him once while she was ill, had nodded her approval, and had asked that the child use the Whitmore name for now so he would not have to answer awkward questions in public.

Paige’s face went pale.

“Noah, don’t say that.”

Adrian’s patience was almost instantly pulled away by the child.

He lifted Noah onto his lap.

“You will.”

“Will Daddy be there too?”

“Yes.”

He answered too smoothly.

Without even a second’s pause.

The attorney cleared his throat.

“Since Mrs. Whitmore is requesting that the note be added, we can only seal the file for now.”

Adrian stood.

As he passed me, he reached for the shawl on the back of my chair out of habit.

I shifted aside and pulled it into my own hands.

His hand closed on empty air.

Adrian paused.

“Don’t be stubborn in front of outsiders.”

He lowered his voice.

“We’ll talk at home tonight.”

At the door, Noah called, “Daddy, one of my nails still has a sharp part.”

Adrian withdrew his hand.

“I’m coming.”

He walked away quickly.

The shawl was clenched in my hand, its fabric wrinkled into a tight knot.

In that moment, I finally understood.

Some things he gave me so naturally.

And when he took them back, he never hesitated.