I Went Back and Set Him Free
I hated my husband most in the moment he died for me, swallowed by the flames. Right before he took his last breath, he tore our marriage certificate in half, his eyes burning red.
"If there's another life," he said, "I'd rather we never met."
My whole body went rigid. Only then did I understand—he blamed me.
Ten years ago, his childhood sweetheart and her family had been exiled. She had begged him for help. But that day, he'd gone with me on a trip and missed the chance to save her. And for ten long years, he held that grudge against me.
After my husband's death, the world turned on me. Even my in-laws, who had always cared for me, looked at me with pure disgust.
"If not for you, Russ wouldn't be dead. We wish you'd never been born!"
I couldn't bear it anymore. I ended my life.
I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I would be back on the day Russ Williams came to propose.
This time, I would do exactly as he wished. I would give everyone what they wanted.