Second Chance: I Won't Fail My Wife

A rule immediately flashed through my mind. It said, "You're not allowed to let your wife know that you've been reborn with your memories. If you do, you'll be considered to have forfeited this opportunity to change the past."

I was instantly terrified, but I didn't have any time to think further because my wife, Ingrid Sanford, was already heading toward the door with her phone in her hands, checking the repair platform.

I tried to open my mouth to call out to her, but only a muffled breath escaped my throat.

"Ah… No…"

The car crash from six years ago had damaged the part of my brain responsible for speech.

Left with the mind of a three-year-old, I could only repeat a few simple words.

When I was frustrated, I would cry and wail, throw tantrums, and smash things onto the floor.

Now, my mind had recovered, but my body was still as useless as ever. This made me extremely anxious and frustrated.

Ingrid turned around when she heard me making a sound. She saw me glaring at the door and smiled gently as she walked over to me and wiped away the drool at the corner of my mouth.

She'd cut her nails short and even taken off her wedding ring so that it would be easier to take care of me. They were the same hands that wrote one more line on her will before she jumped to her death in my past life, asking the hospital to please continue with my treatments even after her death.

At that thought, my eyes welled up with tears instantly.

"It's okay, Nick. You don't have to be afraid. It's just the repairman for Oxy."

"Oxy" was the name she'd given to my oxygen concentrator machine. She'd always been gentle like this.

The doorbell rang again, and Ingrid got back up with her phone. I was so anxious that I raised my left hand and scrambled to tug on the hem of her shirt.

"No…"

However, my arm wouldn't listen to me and slid down as soon as it touched her shirt.

She could sense my resistance and crouched back down over me, gently caressing my head in confusion.

"What's the matter, Nick? Do you not want to see a stranger at home today?"

I blinked with all my might, struggling to make a sound.

She'd asked me the same question in my previous life. But back then, I'd only just taken my meds and was still giggling happily while hugging my soft toy. I never thought that the man outside would completely ruin our lives.

Ingrid waited for a while and saw that my breathing was getting more rapid and shallow. She gently patted me on the chest and said, "Okay, okay. We won't open the door for now."

She then spoke through the door and said, "Sir, can you please state your name and the order number?"

The man outside the door immediately replied, "Tyler Wilkerson, order number 7396. The photo you see in the app is mine."

Ingrid immediately began comparing the details on her phone.

Tyler's name and order number matched the details on the platform. He also looked just like his photo. Her tensed shoulders relaxed for a moment.

Tyler smiled at the front door camera and said, "You have a patient at home who can't be without the oxygen concentrator, don't you? I'll be able to fix it in ten minutes. I won't disturb you for too long."

Alarm bells went off in my head at once. This was the exact line he'd said in my previous life to trick Ingrid into opening the door for him.

So, the moment she grabbed the door handle to open it for him, I hurriedly nudged against the wheelchair handle with all my might and managed to knock over the glass on the table next to me.

The glass shattered on the floor, sending broken shards of glass and water everywhere. Ingrid got a huge shock and hurriedly rushed over to me.

"Nick!"

I didn't care that the back of my hand had a bloody scrape. I even continued rubbing my hand and foot against the glass shards on the ground.

Keeping her busy was the only way I could think of to stop her from opening the door for Tyler. It was a very stupid plan, but I didn't care as long as it worked.

I felt even more determined when I saw the anxious look on her face.

I was never going to let anyone hurt Ingrid in this life—not if I could help it!

She grabbed my flailing arm, her eyes reddened.

"Okay, okay, Nick. We won't fix Oxy anymore. Please stop hurting yourself…"

She quickly bandaged up my hands and cancelled the order on the repair platform. A cancellation fee of 100 dollars popped up, and she didn't even bother disputing it, paying it at once. She didn't care how much money she spent as long as she could get me to calm down.

I looked at the tenderness on her face and felt as though a knife was driving through my chest.

She also used to be like this in my previous life too. She always prioritized other people's comfort over her own, willingly taking a step back each time I acted up.

However, Tyler was never after the 100-dollar cancellation fee from the start.

There was a brief silence at the door. Then, two minutes later, the sounds of his footsteps leaving could be heard.

Ingrid leaned against my knee and smiled tiredly at me. "He's gone, Nick. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Yet, I still stared intently at the door. I knew that this beast hadn't left. The last time, the police told us that he'd waited near our apartment for four whole hours, but Ingrid had no idea about this.

She'd just gotten up to clear away the glass shards on the floor when there was a sudden snap, and suddenly, the power in our whole apartment went out.

Oxy let out a shrill, warning beep just before powering off.

My chest tightened, and my breathing quickly turned shallow. It was getting hard for me to breathe.

Tyler's voice sounded outside the door again.

"Your husband's panting inside the apartment, isn't he, Ms. Sanford? You know he's going to die if you don't open the door for me, don't you?"