I Gave His Name to the Woman He Chose

When the marriage contract was placed in front of me, I only took a moment to read the terms, but Lucien Moretti urged me three times to sign.

He was in a hurry, after all. His precious savior, Isabella, was waiting for him to take her to her favorite opera.

So I picked up the pen, but I did not sign my name. I copied Isabella’s handwriting and wrote hers instead.

In my last life, I had signed that contract with a heart full of hope. I thought becoming Lucien’s wife meant I would finally stand beside him as the Donna of the Moretti family. Instead, he kept me hidden after the wedding. At every public event, Isabella was the woman on his arm. Every matter that should have required the Donna’s approval went through her first.

I told myself I was not strong enough yet. I swallowed every insult and was forced to give up everything that should have been mine.

Until the night gunmen broke into the Moretti estate, and Lucien chose her again. He carried Isabella out in his arms while I bled out behind him.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself back before the wedding contract was sealed.

This time, I gave Isabella the Donna’s necklace. I gave her the wedding dress. I even signed her name on the contract meant for me.

I gave up my name, and I gave him up with it.

...

I came back to life in Lucien Moretti's private chapel, with a pen in my hand and his family lawyer waiting for me to sign away the rest of my life.

"Grace, Isabella is waiting for me," Lucien said, checking his watch for the third time. "How much longer are you going to drag this out?"

The chapel smelled of candle wax, old stone, and expensive roses. The white lilies by the altar were the same. The gold-edged contract on the table was the same. Even Lucien looked exactly as he had in my last life: black suit, sharp jaw, calm eyes.

Last time, I had signed with shaking fingers and a full heart. I thought marrying the heir of the Moretti family would save the Vances and prove that Lucien loved me. I thought patience could become love if I was gentle enough.

I was wrong.

On our wedding night, Isabella called. Lucien left before I had even taken off my veil.

"She is having an episode," he had told me. "She saved my life. I owe her. Don't make this ugly."

"But tonight is our wedding night."

"Grace, she is like family to me. We have the rest of our lives."

The rest of my life turned into years of watching Isabella sit beside him at every Moretti dinner, sleep in the room next to his, and wear the jewelry meant for his wife. I gave way because I did not want to seem cruel. I smiled because I did not want to seem jealous. In the end, I gave away so much of myself that there was nothing left to save.

Then came the raid. Smoke, glass, screaming. I still remembered the heat of my own blood under my palm and the sound of Lucien calling Isabella's name first.

"Grace." His voice cut through the memory. "What is wrong with you?"

I looked up at the man I had loved enough to die for. "Nothing."

"Then sign. I need to go."

"You can go now," I said. "Don't keep her waiting."

Relief softened his face so quickly it almost made me laugh. "Good. I knew you could be reasonable."

He leaned down to kiss me, but I turned my head, and his mouth brushed my cheek. He paused for half a second, as if something about that bothered him, but Isabella called again, and he was already gone.

The chapel door shut behind him.

I picked up the pen. On the contract, my name waited beside his: Grace Vance, future wife of Lucien Moretti.

Never again.

I drew a clean line through my name, slow enough to feel every inch of it leave me. Then I wrote another name in its place.

Isabella Vale.

The lawyer stared. "Miss Vance, are you sure?"

"Completely."

He hesitated, but the Moretti seal was already stamped on Lucien's side. The bride's name could be amended before final filing, and no one in that room had the power to question me unless Lucien told them to.

I signed the witness page and slid the folder back across the table.

For the first time in two lifetimes, I could breathe.