He Chose Her in Both Lifetimes

I awoke with a jolt.

The burning wooden furniture around me crackled and groaned.

I instinctively grabbed the phone to call the fire department, but all I got was static hissing through the receiver.

With no other option, I dialed the number I knew by heart: the number of my husband, Austin Marchetti.

It rang three times before he picked up.

"Daisy?" Austin's voice came through. "I'm already on my way back. I'll get to you..."

Before he could finish, someone cut him off. The line dissolved into a broken, garbled sound. I could only make out a few words.

"Jo... missing...mountains..."

My heart dropped straight to the floor.

Time crawled by, the silence stretching longer and longer.

Finally, Austin's voice came back, rough and strained.

"I'm sorry, Daisy. Jo just went missing up in the mountains. You know her depression's severe. I have to go find her.

"I've already sent Marco up there. He's coming as fast as he can. The fire won't reach the third floor for a while yet. Grab a wet towel, cover your mouth and nose, and just wait for me to come back."

As I stood in the middle of that scorching fire, I felt something in my chest go cold instead.

"But the fire's already climbing up here..."

There was a pause on the other end.

Then Austin's voice came back, edged with something like reluctance. "Trust me, the fire's still small right now. Just hold on a little longer. Someone will be there for you any minute."

"And if the fire moves faster than that? What if I can't hold on until Marco gets here?"

My voice shook in a way I hadn't even noticed until I heard it.

This time, the fire was spreading faster than it had the first time around.

"Nothing's going to happen to you." A trace of impatience crept into Austin's voice. "Stop making a scene. The second I find Jo, I'll head straight back."

The line went dead before I could respond.

Along with it, the last shred of feeling I had left for Austin died too.

I never expected to find myself back here, at this exact moment.

In my last life, when the fire swallowed the entire mansion, I hadn't cared about the blisters covering my burned hands. I'd called my husband for help. I called him over and over.

And the man who'd promised to choose me for the rest of his life picked up just long enough to say he was busy, then hung up on me.

The next second, he had taken the entire family up into the mountains to search for his missing childhood friend.

My child and I burned alive.

By the time he got back, all that was left of me was a charred skeleton.

He had knelt on the ground that day, wrecked with grief. He refused to eat or drink for three days straight, holding what was left of me and our baby.

His childhood friend, Jo Valenti, had cried and told him how sorry she was. Austin had just looked at her and said nothing.

After that, he had wiped out the rival family responsible for the fire. He would then sit at my grave and our child's, drinking until dawn with tears streaming down his face.

Just when my soul had finally decided to forgive him, he chose to marry Jo instead.

On the very day we had originally planned for our wedding.

The whole Marchetti family celebrated for him, certain he'd finally moved past his grief.

Instead, he put a gun in his mouth on his wedding day and pulled the trigger.

His last words were that if he ever got the chance to live it all again, he'd choose me without a second's hesitation.

And somehow, that single line had been enough to fool me. Some small, stupid hope had lingered in me. I thought that maybe this time, he wouldn't leave me to burn.

It turned out that even with a second chance, Austin made the exact same choice all over again.

I wiped the tears off my face and shoved open the scorching hot balcony door.

I didn't have time to look at the blisters covering my hands.

This time, I was getting myself out alive.