No More Saving Him

I still can’t describe how it felt when I heard those words.

At the time, Soren Vantrell was bent forward, his face buried in the hollow of Dr. Nadia Pembroke’s neck, lifting her long hair and breathing it in lightly.

She was his psychologist.

Lately, he had been mentioning again and again that his mental state was unstable and that he needed to see a doctor.

I never imagined this was what he meant.

The way the two of them clung to each other was blinding. The fury and grief of being betrayed swallowed all my reason in an instant. I almost rushed in on the spot, demanding to know how he could do something like this.

Three lifetimes.

Through all three rebirths, Soren’s heart had always belonged to me.

I had believed that without question, yet the reality of this fourth life struck me like a blow to the head. For a moment, I couldn’t even accept it, wondering if I had misunderstood what I was seeing.

Then the Soren I believed loved me most, the Soren I believed to be the most devoted, finally spoke.

He glanced sideways, eyes half-lidded, fingers playing idly with the long hair of Nadia, who was sitting on his lap. With a faint scoff, he said, "Dr. Nadia, do you think there’s really something wrong with my head?

"But I don’t think the first three deaths were fake. When I think about that pain now, it still makes my chest tighten."

Nadia covered her chest, her concern exaggerated and deliberate. "Then what should we do? You’re not going to die again this time, are you?"

The corner of Soren’s mouth lifted. "How could I? Life after life, I stayed with Sloane Hartwell, and every single time I died right next to her.

"I was curious at first, wanted to see how she’d try to save me this time. But thinking about it now, she must have been bad luck. Once I stayed far away from her, didn’t I end up living just fine?

"In this life, I’ve got you. Sweet Dr. Nadia." His tone rose slightly at the end, teasing.

Nadia’s face flushed, and she let out a coy protest. "Then you found the right person. This time, the doctor will treat you properly."

At that moment, the laughter and flirting between Soren and Nadia inside the room sounded as if it were separated from me by a thick membrane, distorted by distance as it reached my ears.

Soren’s words replayed over and over in my head, each sentence magnified, pounding against my heart until it tightened painfully, and a suffocating sensation surged up.

I braced myself against the wall, gasping for breath.

I no longer remember how I got home that day. I only remember that the moment I sank onto the sofa, it felt as though every ounce of strength had drained from my body.

I collapsed, limp, as if my spine had been pulled out.

That was no exaggeration.

What had supported me through each restart was a single obsession: saving the 28-year-old Soren.

In the first life, he died when we loved each other most. We had just registered our marriage. He drove us on a trip, and in the car, I was admiring the ring on my finger, saying I wanted to design a matching pair of earrings.

Before he could fully utter "okay", a runaway truck on the highway violently crashed into our vehicle.

In that instant, time seemed to slow. In my pupils, blown wide with terror, I saw him lunging toward me, half his body shielding me in front.

The last thing I saw was his bloodied eyes that refused to close, filled with love and pain.

I screamed until my voice broke, sobbing so hard I could hardly believe it was real.

My mind held only one thought.

'No. No. Soren can’t die. There are still so many things we haven’t done yet.

'I need to go back. I need to save him.'

Suddenly, it was as if a voice appeared in my mind, asking me, "Are you sure? Are you sure you’re willing to give up your future to go back and do something that might fail, again and again?"

I said yes.

So I exhausted one lifetime, then another.

In this lifetime, he confessed to me that he knew everything.

He watched as I became desperate and pathetic, begging him to stay alive. He even said that I was bad luck and that I was the one who caused his death.