My Husband Buried Me Alive

Aurelia’s POV

“Mommy! Wake up!”

My eyes flew open.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe as I felt the crushing weight of dirt and darkness from the coffin. The memory slammed into me so hard that I sat up with a gasp.

“Mommy?” A small hand touched my arm.

I froze. Slowly, I turned my head. Nolan stood beside the bed wearing his school uniform, his backpack hanging from one shoulder.

My heart stopped.

No, that wasn’t possible. I had buried my son. I had watched his tiny white coffin disappear into the ground. How was he here?

“Mommy, are you okay?” His voice trembled slightly.

I stared at him. He had the same messy black hair, the dimple in his left cheek, and the tiny scar above his eyebrow.

My chest tightened painfully, “Nolan?”

His frown deepened, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Tears filled my eyes. Before he could react, I pulled him into my arms.

A small squeak escaped him, “Mommy!”

I held him tighter. He was warm, real, and alive. He wasn't a dream or a memory.

The tears I’d been holding back spilled down my cheeks. For a long moment, I couldn’t let go. I was terrified that if I did, he would disappear.

“Mommy, you’re acting weird,” he complained.

A laugh escaped through my tears, “Maybe I missed you.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, “I’m only going to school.”

I released him and immediately reached for my phone. My hands were shaking as the screen lit up and I saw the date was September 14.

I froze. September 14 was my tenth wedding anniversary and also thirteen days before Nolan’s death, after which my husband sentenced me to death.

The phone slipped from my fingers onto the bed. I was back. Somehow, impossibly, I was back before Nolan’s death.

A knock sounded on the bedroom door before I could respond, the door opened.

My blood turned cold as Callum Arden walked into the room carrying a breakfast tray.

He looked the same. Tall, dark-haired, and dangerously handsome. The most feared Mafia boss in the city, my husband, and the man who buried me alive.

The tray nearly slipped from his hands when he saw my face.

“Aurelia?” Concern flashed in his eyes.

The sight confused me because the last time I saw those eyes, they were filled with hatred.

I remembered screaming his name, begging him to believe me, begging him not to leave me there.

He hadn’t listened.

Now he was standing in front of me carrying breakfast as if he hadn’t personally condemned me to die.

“Happy anniversary,” his voice was gentle.

In my last life, this had been one of the happiest days of my marriage before everything fell apart when Nolan died and Callum became a stranger.

Nolan jumped off the bed, “Dad, Mom’s crying.”

Callum immediately set the tray down and crossed the room.

My entire body tensed as he reached for me and I flinched. Callum saw it and confusion flickered across his face.

He slowly lowered his hand and ran a hand through his hair instead.

“Aurelia,” he said quietly. “What happened?”

The answer lodged in my throat. You buried me alive, you watched me die, you called me a murderer. Instead, I forced out a shaky breath.

“Nothing,” I lied.

His eyes narrowed, he clearly didn’t believe me. Before he could ask another question, his phone rang.

The ringtone shattered the tension as Callum glanced at the screen and a faint frown appeared on his face.

“I need to take this.”

He stepped toward the door while Nolan followed him out, complaining about a math test.

The moment they disappeared, I collapsed back against the headboard.

My mind raced as I remembered everything.

Nolan’s death, my trial, the coffin, my execution, every horrifying detail. But as I sat there trying to make sense of it all, a memory surfaced.

A memory I hadn’t thought about in years. My eyes widened. In my previous life, this was the day it started.

The day Callum received a phone call during our anniversary breakfast. The day he abruptly left for business. The day nobody could reach him for hours.

At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it but now I remembered something else. Thirteen days from now, Nolan would die and after that day Callum Arden was never the same again.

My gaze drifted toward the open doorway and a chill ran down my spine as Callum walked back inside with an apologetic look.

“Darling, I have to go take care of something. I promise I'll make it up to you when I'm back,” he said.

Except in my past life, that wasn’t what happened. He left after receiving that phone call. Hours later, he came home. After that day, everything changed.

“Wait…” I started to say as I stood up, “I’ll come with you.”

Callum arched a surprised brow at me, “Are you sure? You've always been explicitly clear that you didn't want to involve yourself in the family business.”

I cleared my throat, “I’ve changed my mind. I'm coming with you.”

In my previous life, I had watched Callum walk out that door without a second thought.

This time, I wouldn’t let him out of my sight because thirteen days later, my son would be dead and somehow, I knew that phone call was where it all began.