Chapter 3: This Time, I Choose Myself

The church is too quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Judgmental quiet. I can feel every pair of eyes on me. They’re watching me, confused, curious, and annoyed. Daniel’s grip tightens around my fingers, his nails digging into my skin hard enough to remind me exactly who he is beneath the mask. 

“Jade,” he whispers through clenched teeth, his smile still perfectly in place for the audience. “What are you doing?”

What am I doing? I almost laugh. What I'm not doing is dying for you again. Not this time. Not ever again.

I force my breathing to slow. Panic would ruin everything. Rage would expose me. Right now, silence is my greatest weapon. 

“I’m sorry,” I say suddenly. “I—I feel dizzy.”

Murmurs spread across the church. Concern replaces tension. Daniel’s grip loosens slightly. Confusion flashes across his eyes. He wasn't expecting a retreat. He was expecting obedience from me. To be the good woman I’ve always been.

I turn to the priest. “I just need a moment.”

The priest nods. “Of course, my child.”

Daniel leans closer, his breath brushing my ear. “Don’t embarrass me.”

There it is. Not Are you okay? Not What’s wrong? He only cares about his stupid non-existent reputation. His fucking Image. I swallow the bitter taste rising in my throat.  Ella, my bridesmaid and friend from work, guides me toward the waiting room behind the altar.

She remains outside. The moment the door closes, my expression dies. The mirror reflects a stranger. White lace wrapping around my body like a burial shroud. Soft makeup. Gentle curls. Innocent blue eyes.

The same girl who had died on an operating table while her husband negotiated the price of her organs. My fingers tremble from the memory. I can still feel the scalpel. Still hear Daniel’s voice. And Barbara’s.

Kindness is for losers.

Tears slip from my eyes. A  slow smile spreads across my lips.

“I guess I’m done being kind.”

I wipe my face slowly. That's when I see a number on my wrist. 365. My breath catches in my throat. Maybe it’s a trick of the light. Or a stain from the makeup artist's brush. It burns when I touch it. Not painfully. So I rub at it, harder and harder—but it doesn't fade.

Then the timeline clicks into place in my mind. I have gone back into the past. My eyes go wide in shock. Maybe the number is a countdown. My pulse slows.

Does this mean I have exactly three hundred and sixty-five days before the accident? Before Daniel and my family decided I was worth more dead than alive?

Three hundred and sixty-five days to dismantle every lie. To expose every betrayal. To make sure the people who planned my death begged for their own.

A strange calm settles over me. I adjust my veil and study my reflection again. Before, I used to stare at mirrors searching for approval. Now, I’m searching for my weakness. 

And I found it. My kindness. My love for them. It was my biggest weakness. But Jade—the naive version—was already dead. What remained was a version I’d never seen.

A soft knock sounds on the wooden door.

“Jade?” Ella’s voice comes through. “Are you feeling better?”

I blink once and nod. Then I soften my expression.

“Yes,” I reply gently. “Just nerves.”

The door opens slightly. Ella peeks in, concern written across her face.

“I was worried. You looked like you were about to faint.”

I force a small laugh. “I probably was.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie. After all—I had died once already.

“Daniel looks stressed,” she adds carefully.

Of course he does. This wedding wasn’t about love. It was about legal access. And I’ve disrupted his investment plan. The thought makes something dark curl inside my chest.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” I say.

Ella nods. I stretch my left hand toward her. “Do you see a number on my wrist?”

She shakes her head. I lift my hand to my chest, holding it tightly. Only I can see the numbers. 

“Jade?” Barbara’s sweet and concerned voice.

Ella steps outside, leaving Barbara and me alone. My stomach twists violently as I look at Barbara. But I force my face to relax. She rushes in immediately, wrapping her arms around me. 

“I was so worried!”

Her perfume makes my skin crawl. I remember the scent very well. It had filled the hospital room the night I died.

“I’m okay,” I say, pushing her away. 

Her brows knit, but she hides her anger. Her eyes scan my face carefully. Barbara had always been observant. That’s what made her dangerous.

“What happened out there?” she asks.

I lower my gaze.

“I just… got scared.”

Her shoulders relax. Hook. Line. Sinker. “Marriage is a big step,” she says reassuringly.

Yes. Especially when it ends in murder.

“Daniel is pacing like a caged tiger. You can’t keep him waiting. It’s bad luck.”

“I just got overwhelmed.”

“It doesn't matter. You gave us such a scare. You know how much Daniel loves you, right? Now, fix your lipstick and get out there.”

“He really needs this marriage to happen today, doesn't he?” 

Barbara freezes. Her eyes narrow. “What a strange thing to say. We all want this. You’ve always wanted this.”

“But that’s changed,” I say slowly. Her gaze pierces me. “Do you love him, Barbara?” 

Her expression shifts, replaced with shock which she manages to quickly hide. “What are you talking about? That’s nonsense.”

“You seem close.”

“Did something happen to you? You sound… different?”

I force a smile—the most beautiful, fragile, and utterly fake smile I’ve ever produced.

“I’m not getting married to Daniel. You can keep him.”

Barbara’s posture slumps with fake relief. “I get the joke now. Brides are always tense. But stop this nonsense and finish the ceremony. I’ll tell Daniel you’re coming.”

My smile fades the moment she leaves.  I see a pair of scissors staring at me. I pick it up and rip the lace at the side of my gown, cutting through the fabric.

The sound is sharp in the quiet room. Fabric tears. Again. And again. And again. The elegant wedding dress begins to fall apart piece by piece.

My hands stop shaking. Instead, I feel free. When I’m done, the gown is no longer perfect. It sits above my knees. The lace is torn, the design ruined. Just like this marriage. I rip the veil out of my hair, drop the scissors and walk out.

****

The church doors open. Conversation stops instantly. Gasps follow. Daniel’s face goes pale as he looks at my dress.

“What—”

I walk straight to the altar. I’ve never felt more unbothered in my entire life.

“I’m sorry,” I say clearly, my voice carrying across the room. “But this wedding is not happening.”

There’s utter silence in the hall. Then whispers.

Daniel steps forward. “Jade—”

I raise my hand.

He stops.

“I’ve realized I cannot marry a man who’s in love with another woman.”

The reaction from the small crowd is immediate. People gasp in shock. My eyes shift toward Barbara. Her face is completely drained of color.

“And the interesting part,” I continue, “is that both families already know.”

The church erupts into louder whispers. Daniel’s mother suddenly stands and storms toward me.

“You ungrateful girl!”

Before I can react, she slaps me. The sound echoes through the church. My head turns from the impact. For a moment, everything goes still.

Memories suddenly rush back. In our marriage, Natasha lived with us. She turned me into her maid. A punching bag. A trash can where she dumped all of her garbage. All the times she slapped me before, all the insults, the humiliation; she enjoyed it.

I turn my face slowly toward her. Then I tilt my head, offering the other cheek.

“I’ll let you get off with the first one. But go ahead. Slap me again if you dare because it’ll be the last time you ever touch me.”

Her hand freezes midair. She doesn’t move. For the first time, she looks unsure. My family is shocked just as much as everyone. I turn away from Natasha and face the guests instead.

“Please enjoy the food and drinks prepared for the reception. There’s no wedding. But at least there’s still a party. Don’t let the food go to waste. I paid a lot of money for it.”

A few awkward laughs follow. I walk down the aisle with my head high. Daniel is almost running mad behind me. Barbara is panicking. My parents are furious.

“Jade!” Daniel screams. “Get back here.”

Mason is holding him from running after me. But I don’t turn back. Because this time—I choose myself. My first stage of revenge is separating myself from them. But I know them. They won't give up. They’ll come after me.