The Night I Died

I used to think betrayal came with warning signs. A cold glance. A whispered secret. A shift in the air you could sense if you were paying attention.

But the truth is, betrayal feels like nothing until it feels like everything.

The night I died, it wasn’t the poison in the wine that hurt the most. It was the smile on my husband’s face as he watched me choke on it.

Richard Hale, the man I gave my youth, my loyalty, and my heart to, stood over me with a glass of champagne in his hand, his eyes colder than I’d ever seen.

“I told you, Elena,” he said as my fingers clawed desperately at the edge of the dinner table, knocking over candles and silverware. “You should never have trusted me.”

My throat burned, my chest heaved, and my body screamed for air. I wanted to scream back at him, to ask why? Why ruin me? Why destroy everything we built? But all that came out was a strangled gasp.

The grand dining hall blurred. The chandelier above split into shards of light, spinning and warping as my vision failed. My hand reached out for him, not for love anymore, but for the sheer disbelief that the man I had chosen, defended, and worshipped was watching me die.

And then… everything went black.

---

I don’t know how long the darkness lasted. Time itself seemed meaningless in that void.

But when I opened my eyes again, I wasn’t in the afterlife. I was staring at a ceiling I hadn’t seen in years.

My childhood bedroom.

The soft cream paint, the little cracks in the corner, the faded floral curtains… all of it exactly as it had been a decade ago.

I shot upright, my body trembling. My hands flew to my throat, expecting the searing burn of poison, but there was nothing just skin damp with cold sweat.

My gaze swept the room. The vanity table cluttered with cheap cosmetics. The small bookshelf stacked with romance novels I used to sneak home from the library. The ticking alarm clock shaped like a rose.

It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t.

With shaking hands, I stumbled toward the mirror above the vanity. And what I saw made my knees buckle.

A young woman. Smooth skin, bright eyes, no trace of the weary lines betrayal had carved into my face in my first life.

I was… twenty again.

A strangled laugh escaped me. Or maybe it was a sob. I touched my face, my hair, my trembling lips, as though confirming I hadn’t lost my mind.

I remembered everything the lavish wedding, the whispered lies, the moment Richard swore he loved me, the cruel smirk as he killed me.

And yet… here I was. Back at the beginning.

Back before I said yes.

Back before I tied myself to the man who would ruin me.

Fate had handed me a second chance.

And this time, I wasn’t going to waste it.

---

The sound of footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts. My bedroom door creaked open, and my mother peeked in, her face just as soft and kind as I remembered before illness took her in my first life.

“Elena?” she said, surprise flickering in her eyes. “You’re awake early. Did something happen?”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My throat tightened as I rushed to her, wrapping my arms around her frail frame.

“Mother,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “You’re here.”

She laughed lightly, patting my back. “Of course I’m here, silly child. Where else would I be?”

Tears slipped down my cheeks. In my first life, I had been too busy chasing Richard’s dreams to notice how quickly my mother’s health declined. I’d been too blind to see the sacrifices she made until it was too late.

Not this time.

This time, I would protect her.

I would protect everything.

---

For days, I tested the truth of my situation. Memories came flooding back with terrifying clarity. Every betrayal, every humiliation, every lost opportunity. And every moment I had missed the quiet dinners with my parents, the career paths I had abandoned, the friends I had neglected all for Richard Hale.

I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

So when Richard came calling, all charm and smiles, I was ready.

I remembered this moment. I had been twenty, sitting in a little café downtown, my heart pounding as Richard slid into the booth across from me with that easy grin that had stolen my breath the first time around.

“Elena,” he said warmly, his eyes sparkling with practiced sincerity. “You look even lovelier than the last time I saw you.”

In my first life, I had blushed, my heart fluttering at his words. I had believed every lie that dripped from his tongue.

Now, all I saw was poison wrapped in silk.

I forced a smile, leaning back against the booth. “Richard. What a surprise.”

He reached across the table, covering my hand with his. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. I believe you and I are meant to be.”

Meant to be? The words rang in my head like a cruel joke. Meant to destroy me, perhaps. Meant to bleed my family dry.

I tightened my grip on my teacup, steadying myself. “Is that so?”

His grin widened. “Of course. In fact, I was hoping we could talk about a future together.”

In my first life, this was the moment he had offered me the world. Promises of love, marriage, success all lies that had led to my downfall.

But this time, I wasn’t the same naïve girl.

I was a woman who had already seen the end of the story.

I looked into his eyes, my heart steady, my resolve iron-clad.

This time, I wouldn’t walk into his trap.

But Richard didn’t know that.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a husky whisper that had once made me tremble.

“Elena Dawson,” he said with that wolfish smile, “marry me.”