Chapter 4: MY FATHER IS STILL ALIVE

I barely slept that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the ocean. I felt the freezing water against my skin and heard Marcus telling me that loving him had been my mistake.

Then I would remember waking up three years earlier, and my heart would race all over again.

I had died, yet somehow, I had returned.

And I was terrified of losing my father again.

At seven the next morning, I gave up trying to sleep and went downstairs.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the house. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, and my father's voice drifted from the dining room.

I stopped at the doorway.

He was reading something on his tablet while eating breakfast. His reading glasses rested low on his nose, and his hair was slightly untidy, just as it always was when he had been working late.

It was such an ordinary sight.

In my previous life, I would have walked past him, complained about being tired, and rushed off to begin my day. I had always assumed there would be another breakfast, another conversation, another opportunity to tell him how much he meant to me.

I had been wrong about so many things.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

His voice pulled me from my thoughts.

I quickly smiled. “Good morning, Dad.”

He studied me over his glasses.

“You're up early. Couldn't sleep?”

“Not really.”

“Are you still feeling unwell?”

I shook my head and took the seat beside him.

“I'm fine. I just wanted to have breakfast with you.”

He lowered his tablet.

“Breakfast with me? Should I be worried?”

I laughed softly despite myself.

“Can't I spend time with my own father?”

“Of course you can.” He smiled. “I'm simply surprised. Usually, I have to schedule an appointment to get more than five minutes of your time.”

His words made my smile falter.

He was right. I had been so caught up in my own life that I had failed to appreciate the man who had given me everything. I had cared about parties, expensive clothes, romantic promises, and the future I imagined with Marcus.

I reached across the table and held his hand.

“I'm sorry.”

His eyebrows drew together. “For what?”

“For not spending enough time with you.”

He looked at me for a moment, then gently squeezed my fingers.

“Elena, you don't need to apologize for growing up. I know you have your own life.”

“But you're important to me.”

“I know that.”

“No, Dad. I mean it.” My voice trembled, and I looked down before he could notice the tears gathering in my eyes. “You're more important than anything else.”

He was quiet for a moment.

Then he stood, came around the table, and kissed my forehead.

“You've always been my little girl. Nothing will ever change that.”

I closed my eyes, holding on to his words as if they could protect us both.

I wanted to tell him everything about the life I remembered, but how could I explain something I barely understood myself?

He might think the shock had affected my mind. He might worry unnecessarily. And even if he believed me, I had no idea how to explain why I was here.

So I said nothing.

Instead, I held his hand a little longer.

After breakfast, I followed him into his study.

The room was exactly as I remembered it. Dark wooden shelves lined the walls, and family photographs stood on the desk. One showed me as a little girl sitting on his shoulders, laughing while he pretended to struggle beneath my weight.

I picked it up.

“I remember this day,” I said.

“You refused to get down from my shoulders for nearly an hour.”

I smiled. “You said you would carry me anywhere.”

“And I did.”

My throat tightened.

He had carried me through scraped knees, childhood nightmares, and the heartbreak of growing up. He had worked hard to give me a comfortable life, and I had never questioned whether he would always be there.

Until now.

I placed the photograph back carefully.

“Dad, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you promise to take care of yourself? No working until midnight. No skipping meals because of meetings. And please, take a break sometimes.”

He stared at me.

“Where is all this coming from?”

“I just worry about you.”

His expression softened.

“You don't need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Elena. I'm doing fine.”

I nodded, though his answer couldn't erase what I remembered.

I couldn't explain my fear, and I couldn't change everything overnight. But I could start with the things within my reach.

I could spend more time with him. I could pay attention. And when the time came to make difficult decisions, I would choose differently.

My father returned to his work, and I sat quietly on the sofa, watching him.

For the first time since waking up, the fear in my chest began to loosen.

He was alive.

I still had time.

When I finally left his study, I made myself a promise. I would protect my father, even if it meant changing everything about my life.

And Marcus Cole would never get the chance to destroy me again.

As I reached the top of the stairs, my phone vibrated in my hand.

His name appeared on the screen.

Marcus Cole.

For several seconds, I simply stared at it.

In my previous life, seeing his name had filled me with warmth. I would have answered immediately, eager to hear his voice.

Now, all I could remember was the coldness in his eyes as he watched me drown.

The phone vibrated again.

A message appeared.

Good morning, sweetheart. I miss you. When can I see you?

My fingers tightened around the phone.

He was still pretending to love me.

He had no idea that the woman he had murdered in another life was standing here, reading his words.

I slowly typed my reply, then stopped.

If I confronted him now, I might change the future before I understood how to protect myself. If I continued pretending to love him, I would have to look into his eyes and hide everything I knew.

I took a deep breath and deleted the unfinished message.

Not yet.

This time, Marcus would not see me coming.

I looked at his name one last time before locking my phone.

He believed he still had three years to make me his victim.

He was wrong.

I had three years to make sure he never got the chance.