Worth Every Bullet

After Stefan Grimaldi's first love died, he hated me for five years. I did everything I could to please him, but he never softened. The only thing he ever said was, "If you really want to make me happy, go die. Go keep Sienna company in her grave." It cut deep every time. I told myself it would always be this way, that he would carry that hatred until one of us was gone. I was wrong. When assassins came for us, Stefan stepped in front of the bullet without hesitation. He went down in my arms. With the little breath he had left, he looked up at me and said, "Annie, if there's a next life, I hope I never meet you again." At his funeral, his father stood over the casket, barely holding himself together. "Stefan, I was wrong. I never should have forced you to marry Annie. If I had listened to you back then and let you marry Sienna, none of this would have happened," he said. His mother turned on me, tears streaming, her eyes filled with blame. "This is all your fault. Every time, Stefan ended up in danger because of you. What have you ever given him besides disaster?" I kept my head down and said nothing. They were not the only ones with regrets. I regretted marrying Stefan too. On the night of the full moon, I climbed to the top of the church tower and jumped. I woke five years in the past. This time, I was done.