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One Year Back: The Second Chance

"Arrghhhhh!"

I bolted upright, gasping for air that wouldn't come. It felt as if my heart and lungs were being ripped from my chest. My fingers clawed at my throat, searching for words that had been silenced in that cold hospital room. But then, I realized something was wrong. I wasn't wearing a thin hospital gown. I wasn't lying on a flat, sterile mattress.

I looked down at my hands. They were smooth, free of the scars and IV bruises that had defined my final days. My clothes were damp with sweat, but they were my clothes. As I scanned my surroundings, my brain began to spin. I wasn't in the hospital at all. I was standing in the middle of the new house Adrian had bought for our first anniversary.

The last thing I remembered was dying while watching my husband and his mistress laugh at my misery. I touched my stomach; it was flat and empty. I touched my face, my skin warm and alive. This isn't a dream. My phone lay on the floor. I scooped it up, my heart nearly stopping as I checked the notification bar.

3:30 PM | April 11, 2023. Our anniversary. The exact day my nightmare had truly begun. I stood there for a moment, dusting off my clothes, my mind racing. It seemed impossible, a glitch in the universe. I ran to my laptop and flipped it open. The screen confirmed the impossible: the same date, the same time.

I had really gone back. I was back on the day Adrian told me he had a "surprise"—the day he brought his mistress, Victoria, into our home and claimed she was his cousin. A rush of cold, vengeful energy surged through me. God had answered my prayers. I had a second chance, and I wasn't going to waste a single second of it.

At exactly 3:35 PM, the familiar chime of an email alert echoed through the room. I knew who it was before I even looked. In my previous life, I had sent my father a smug, foolish text bragging about Adrian’s success, even though my family had disowned me for marrying him.

I opened the mail. My father’s words hit me harder than they had the first time: “I don’t care if he is successful or not. I am only responding to let you know the offer for the contract marriage still stands. You should come back before you regret it.”

In my past life, I had replied that I would never regret staying with Adrian. How wrong I had been. I remembered him crying over my corpse while Adrian and Victoria shared a victory smile. I remembered my sister Haley standing there, having been missing for ten years.

I began to type, my fingers steady this time.

“Father, I already regret it. It is time for me to come home. Give me one month to fix things here, and I will return to you. Prepare the marriage contract, because Harriet Walter is coming back to claim what belongs to her.”

I clicked send.

I walked into the kitchen, counting down the seconds. I knew Adrian’s routine perfectly. One... two... The doorbell rang. He had the passcode, but he never used it; he preferred the power trip of making me open the door like a servant. In my last life, I had run to that door with a desperate smile. This time, I moved with the grace of a predator.

I opened the door. The first thing out of Adrian’s mouth was a bark: "What took you so long?"

I forced a thin, fake smile. "I'm trying to bake a cake for our anniversary, so forgive me." I looked past him. The porch was empty for now, but I knew she was hovering just out of sight. I stepped back to let him in.

"Happy anniversary, baby," Adrian said, though his eyes were already wandering.

"Thank you, Adrian," I replied. I noted the change immediately—in my past life, I had been the one begging for his attention, blurting out the greeting first. Today, I let him lead.

"I have a surprise for you," he said.

I feigned shock, widening my eyes. "Seriously? I love surprises!"

"Close your eyes," he commanded.

I did as I was told, feeling a flicker of dark joy. I could smell it now—a floral, cloying scent that wasn't mine. She was standing right there.

"You can open them now."

I opened my eyes to see Victoria. I played my part perfectly. "Who is this?"

"You've always wanted to meet my family," Adrian said, his voice smooth and lying. "So, I thought I’d finally introduce you to Victoria, my cousin."

I looked her up and down, from her perfectly styled hair to her expensive shoes. "Oh, thank you, honey. I really appreciate it. But... she looks pregnant?"

Adrian didn't blink. "That's because her husband passed away and she’s all alone now."

I softened my expression into one of deep, fake concern. "Oh, I am so sorry, Victoria. You are more than welcome here. Don't worry about a thing; just let me know what you need. Make yourself comfortable—treat this like your own house."

I turned to her. "So, what can I get you? What are you craving?"

"No, no," Victoria replied, her voice sweet and poisonous. "Don't worry, Adrian already fed me. I really appreciate it."

I smiled. I knew exactly how Adrian had "fed" her. I didn't say another word. Instead of going back to the kitchen to slave over a stove, I walked to the living room and sat down in the plush armchair.

Adrian followed me, his face reddening. "Babe, why are you just sitting there? I thought you were making the cake!"

I ignored him and picked up the remote, flipping on the television. A bright morning talk show filled the silence.

"Babe! I said I'm talking to you!" he screamed. "The cake!"

I looked at him, then back at the TV, then back at him again. "Yeah, I was making a cake. But since you said your 'cousin' already ate, why should I bother finishing it? No one is going to eat it anyway."

In my last life, I had stayed in that kitchen cooking while she "offered" to help. She had used that as an excuse to go upstairs, where I had heard the sounds of them together—noises I was too blind to understand back then. Not this time.

"Why are you acting like this today?" Adrian demanded.

Victoria stepped in, playing the martyr. "No, please, don't fight. It's just a cake. I’ll finish it. I'll prepare everything so there's no need for you two to argue."

I looked at Adrian. He was waiting for me to apologize, to protest, to be the "good wife." I said nothing.

"Are you seriously going to let this happen?" he hissed, raising his voice. "You called me by my name earlier, you didn't even congratulate me on our anniversary, and now you want a guest to finish your work? What is wrong with you, Harriet? Just because you do a few chores doesn't mean you can talk to me this way. I am your husband, for goodness' sake!"

I looked him dead in the eye. "And I am your wife, for goodness' sake—not your slave."

"Please, stop," Victoria pleaded. "I'll make the cake."

I smiled at her, radiant and cold. "Oh, thank you so much, Victoria. You’re such a darling. I’ll be going upstairs now."

I walked away, climbing the staircase slowly. I felt their eyes on my back. When I reached the landing, I tucked myself behind a large pillar, watching them through the railing.

I saw Adrian approach her. He pulled her close, whispering into her ear, "Don't worry, babe. I appreciate you. I'll make sure she handles all the chores from now on." Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Don't worry, baby. I've got you," Victoria whispered back.

She headed into the kitchen to finish the cake I had abandoned. I twisted my hair into a bun and walked into the bedroom. I was done being a fool. Just as I closed the door, intending to finally get some real rest, my phone vibrated with a message from an unknown number.