Why Does The Protagonist In All Our Tomorrows Make That Choice?

When I'm having dinner at home, I find out that my childhood sweetheart, Drew Calloway, has given up on the opportunity to get promoted to the northern military camp for the sake of my cousin, Brynn Jeffries. "Brynn can only attend a local college because of her SAT results. It so happens that Mrs. Ward is in poor health as well. I've already filled in the details on your college form, Lena. We'll both stay here." My mom goes along with the flow. "That's right. I promised your uncle that I'd take good care of Brynn, so you must help me take care of her too. You should forget about Northgate University, seeing as it's useless to pursue an education there. When you marry Drew in the future, you'll be a military wife who stays in the military camp with him." Before I can say anything, Brynn's eyes well up with tears. She starts crying as though she's the one feeling aggrieved. "It's my fault for being useless. My parents are no longer around. Because of that, Lena can't attend her dream university. You should just leave me be. I'm fine staying here all by myself." As soon as Brynn starts crying, Drew and Mom fly into a state of panic and start comforting her. As for me, I rise to my feet and return to my room quietly. Thankfully, I'm able to change my desired institution back to Northgate University one second before the deadline. Honestly speaking, the reason I want to attend Northgate University isn't just so that I can be closer to Drew in terms of distance. I also wish to watch the heavy snowfall with him. If we walk together in the snow with snowflakes covering our heads, it symbolizes the possibility of us spending the rest of our lives together till we're old and gray. Well, it doesn't matter who's standing next to me when I watch the snowfall now. My only wish is that I must watch the snowfall no matter what.

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

I have the ability to see how people will die. The day my divorce is finalized, I'm hit by an electric scooter and sent flying. When I wake up, I see a line of text above the nurse's head. It reads, "27 years old. Breast cancer in eight years." I pick up my phone. The first name in my contacts is my ex-wife, Caroline Meyer. After a moment's hesitation, I open her social media. Her latest post shows her and her new boyfriend vacationing in Marencia, captioned, "Forever starts with you." The location tag says it was posted three hours ago. We only finalized our divorce the day before. Later, I get a voice message from my daughter. "Daddy, Mommy says I can't go to her new house anymore. Her boyfriend doesn't like kids." I clutch my phone and head out to pick her up, only to run into Caroline's father, John Meyer, outside the apartment building. Above his head, the words read, "62 years old. Carbon monoxide poisoning in three months." The moment John sees me, he starts yelling. "What a loser! My daughter should've divorced you years ago! Her new boyfriend is young, handsome, and owns three houses. What do you have?" I glance at the words above his head, then slowly delete the warning text message I'd already typed out. After that, I take my daughter's hand and say, "Come on. I'm taking you out for burgers."

The day I win a brand-new BMW, I suddenly receive a call from myself, ten years in the future. "Kieran will ask to borrow your car in a bit. And whatever you do, do not lend it to him. He intends to use it to pay off his gambling debt." Even with such an impossibility happening to me, I do not doubt a thing. When Kieran asks for my keys, I shut him down at once. That very night, he drives his old beater car to visit our parents. Along the way, he loses control of the car and collides with another vehicle. Just like that, he slips into a coma. The guilt hit me so hard that I eventually pass out. Mom and Dad stay by my side day and night until I can stand on my own two feet again. But the future version of me sounds cold when she calls again. "They only want to push you onto an operating table. They want your heart to save him!" Growing suspicious, I check their bags and find a donor report. Rage burns through me. I immediately block them on all platforms and throw them out of my home. When news that Kieran dies from blood loss arrives, I learn that they only ever needed my blood—not my heart. I try to find them to tell them the truth and apologize for my mistake. But the mysterious phone rings again. "They hate you because Kieran died. If you go to them now, they will drag you into a suicide pact." I freeze at the revelation, then tell my future myself that I will wait until they calm down. Later, I learn that a thief breaks into their home and kills them. I try to rush over and see them one last time, but a truck hits me and kills me on the spot. I die without ever understanding why the version of me from ten years in the future wanted me dead. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day I won the prize.

When Michele Barone, the Underboss of the Moretti family, proposes to me, I receive a video call from another version of myself, who's five years in the future. In the video call, my older self is already shaved bald. She's also trapped in the Moretti family's basement. "Don't marry him! You have to get rid of the unborn baby in your belly and get out of here right now!" I throw the ring to the table on the spot before going through an abortion right away. When Michele finds out the truth, he breaks down and cries his heart out. At the same time, he keeps demanding answers from me. All of my family and friends keep blaming and accusing me. They even claim that I've gone nuts. Meanwhile, Michele's childhood friend, Gianna Grasso, hides outside the room with a hand clamped over her mouth as she giggles secretly to herself. "AI nowadays sure is powerful! I can't believe she actually believes that the woman in the video call is actually her future self five years from now!" My lips curl into a small smile. Honestly speaking, I can tell right away that it's just a fake AI video, based on how shabbily it's made. It's quite simple as to why I've done those things, though—I've received an actual video call from my future self for real.

After being accepted into Doctors Without Borders, I handed over the position of Chief at the capital’s hospital to Elaine Brown. My best friend frowned at me. "You’re destroying any chance of a future with Jeffrey if you go.” I gave him a faint smile. "I'm just returning him to the woman he's always had in his heart." In my previous life, Jeffrey Carter and I were the infamous bickering couple everyone in our circle knew to avoid. He resented me for refusing to replace Elaine when she applied to join Doctors Without Borders. She later caught an infection and died on the job. I resented him for his hypocrisy. If he loved Elaine so much, why did he agree to my parents' demands to care for me for the rest of our lives? We spent seven years of marriage together, yet the best we ever wished for each other was a miserable death. However, amid the gunfire and chaos on the battlefield, he used his last ounce of strength to shield me completely when his heart was pierced by a bullet. "I've arranged for someone to meet you. Once the sweep ends, run. You must survive!" he whispered, his voice fading. "I'll protect you fully in this life… and in the next, we’ll never meet. "Elaine, I'm doing this for you." However, the bomb dropped from above gave us no chance to escape, and we were both annihilated. When I opened my eyes, I had returned to the eve of our wedding. Jeffrey… In this life, I would fulfill your wish.